Chianti Classico Collection 2012

Today for my Wine Marketing class, our teacher Enrico took us to the presentation of the new Chianti Classico Collection. It was a type of wine expo held in Florence in the Stazione Leopolda (an old converted train station, Dad you would have loved it!) where all of the vineyards in the region of Chianti Classico present their new vintages. All of the Chianti Classico wines are labeled DOCG (Denominazione di origine controlatta e garantita), which is the highest production standard for Italian wine. Today’s event was reserved for trade professionals and not open to the public, but Enrico was able to score us a meeting with the few English-speaking marketers. For a five-euro deposit we received wine glasses stamped with a black rooster, the traditional symbol of Chianti Classico and goofy little wine glass totes to wear around our necks. If I wasn’t a starving college kid I might have kept the wine glass and tote as a souvenir. We tasted four different varieties of 2009 Chianti Classico from the regions of San Casciano Val di Pesa, Radda and Gaiole. Most of the wines are made using the Tuscan sangiovese grape. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s all I drink these days but I think I’m becoming partial to it.

Aside from the wine, what struck me about the event was the juxtaposition of the tradition of wine making presented in an old Florentine train station with the hip décor that looked more like it belonged in New York City. At the end of the lines of busy tables packed with vintners and marketers were brightly colored, plush chairs arranged in little clusters with colorful lighting. Various signs displayed logos of the event comprised of colorful wine bottles arranged in different shapes. I’m not quite sure if I’m cool enough to work in this industry, but I have to say I wouldn’t mind attending many more events like this in the future.

The search for the elusive "secret bakery"

In Florence there are numerous bakeries that American students refer to as “secret bakeries”, although my Italian roommate, Marta, assures us they’re not a secret. These are bakeries that open in the early hours of the morning to prepare for the next day and have clearly recognized the opportunity of selling warm pastries to hungry students returning home around two or three in the morning after a night of drinking. On our first failed attempt to find this magical place, we had been guided (or really, misguided) by Marta’s vague directions that the Bakery was a few blocks away and that we would just be able to smell it. We could definitely smell the delicious pastries baking but, as I angrily told Marta later, “we’re not dogs,” and our noses failed to lead us right to the source. The second failed attempt a few nights later was accompanied by crushing disappointment followed by a serious meltdown when I got home (although that may have been more due to my anxiety finally catching up with me than to a lack of chocolate). Feeling very much defeated, there were no attempts to find the secret bakery for a few nights until, this past Saturday we were out with Marta. Around 1:30 or 2:00, we were able to rally everyone to head home with the promise of Marta guiding us to the secret bakery. When we finally reached it, I was glad to have her with us. As I had been picturing a secret door, behind which lying a magical world of treats displayed for my taking, I was surprised when Marta walked up to a glass door, through which we could see the kitchen and bakers hard at work and asked for five or so anything’s with chocolate. The warm chocolate filled croissant that I paid one Euro for was a little taste of heaven. The chocolate oozing out of its center tasted almost like chocolate mousse and was unlike anything a pastry in America would contain. Although plenty of it ended up on both my face and the inside of my coat sleeve, I’m pretty sure I slept with a smile on my face that night. Last night when we returned, this time without Marta, my anything with chocolate was fried… yum. Now, for the rest of the semester, on a late night, I plan to forego that last five Euro beer that I really don’t need anyway, and get five warm anything’s with chocolate instead. 

Update on Ethics of Globilization

Today was our first real class and I couldn’t be more excited about the semester. Our teacher walks in, an older, somewhat scary looking man, wearing a nice cozy sweater and scarf ensemble. He made me nervous until he made fun of a girl who said that one of our textbooks was no longer “getable”. He is American, laid-back about attendance but has no tolerance for grammatical errors on papers, definitely knows what he’s talking about and has a very sarcastic sense of humor. We’re going to get along great. The class requires a lot of reading and a research paper that accounts for 50% of our grades (yikes), but I think it’s going to be really interesting.  We started off the class discussing Nike (always fun) but he was objective and didn’t immediately bash the corporation for it’s outsourcing which I appreciated. Considering my class is at three, my body and mind should both be fully awake for it every day so I really expect to enjoy it, even though it’s two and a half hours long and we sit on pink couches with zero back support. 

Some shots of my classroom... Sala Rossa in all its glory.

Personally I found the artwork and chandeliers distracting.

La Mia Prima Settimana dei Corsi

On Monday morning I woke up my new IKEA alarm clock beeping incessantly. The tiny little machine is far too loud and complicated to have only cost one euro.  Waking up in my apartment is always confusing because we have shutters over the window, blocking out any light so I always feel like it’s the middle of the night. On top of all this we have no carpets and the apartment is only heated at about 68 degrees for a few hours a day so getting out of bed and stepping onto the freezing cold floors is exceptionally difficult. Once up and out of bed I packed up my bag, grabbed a banana and headed off to my first class. While running to cross the street before getting hit by a bus, the shoulder strap of my bag snapped under the weight of my books and my things spilled into the middle of the road. Luckily Florentine bus drivers are used to crazy pedestrians so I wasn’t run over. After scooping up my bag I rushed to meet Corinna by the Duomo. My first class was Wine Marketing and Communications, held, with all the other food and wine classes in the building farthest away from my apartment, on Via Guelfa. After about a twenty-minute walk and a little backtracking we finally found the building. When I walked in and asked the woman at the front desk where my class was, she informed me that it was actually held in Corso dei Tintori 21, the building closest to my apartment and pretty much on the other side of town. After another twenty-minute walk in the bitter cold I reached my classroom, muttered apologies in Italian and English and sat down at the back of the class. I quickly got over my embarrassment (especially when a girl walked in late about an hour after me and didn’t even bother to apologize) and eagerly started taking notes. It’s going to be a great class and my teacher, Enrico, seems very nice. It’s a pretty standard marketing class except for its concentration on wine and the fact that we’ll actually be doing a few wine tastings in class.

            On Tuesday I attended my first conversational Italian class. Having completely forgotten how to speak Italian since last Italian course in the spring, I was nervous to see what level the rest of my classmates were on. I could tell when I sat down that everyone else was nervous, which was comforting. There were only six of us so we made some awkward conversation about how we hoped the teacher was nice and how we didn’t even really speak Italian at all. When the teacher finally came in and handed out our syllabi the first thing I noticed was the course description which read: “This course is meant for those students who already possess fluency and confidence in the Italian language and who wish to perfect their skills in current idiom.” I’m sure that not one person in my class is fluent (except a guy who transferred in on Thursday from a higher class because he was too lazy and makes us all look really bad), so I’m not too concerned. Thursday’s class proved that our teacher is plenty willing to dumb her lessons down until we get back into the swing of things.

            Aside from learning that my friend Nellie is in my Ethics of Globalization class, Wednesday was fairly uneventful. Our teacher was a no-show so a woman came in to hand out our syllabi and inform us that this teacher “expects a lot of his students,” which is something every college kid hates to hear. After class I went to pick up our three required books: “Confessions of an Economic Hit Man”, “Bad Samaritans: The Guilty Secrets of Rich Nations & the Threat to Global Prosperity” and “The Travels of a T-shirt in the Global Economy”. Sounds fun right? Stay tuned…

            Thursday is both my busiest and most exciting day of class. I leave my apartment right at 8:30, giving myself a full half hour to make it across the campus to Via Guelfa (thankfully I had triple-checked my course list today making sure I was going to the right building). I walked into An Exploration of Wine Culture and was immediately greeted by the sight of six bottles of wine and rows of wine glasses on the desk at the front of the room. My teacher, Lapo, spent the first part of class giving a simple introduction of the process of wine making and tasting in a very thick Italian accent. By around 11 am we were tasting Prosecco (Italian champagne). Lapo walked us through a proper tasting and then toasted to the semester. Even before tasting the wine I couldn’t seem to keep a smile off my face. There’s just something about being required to drink wine in class before noon that makes me giggly. Just before ending class Lapo said, “Remember my dear, the wine is an alive product.” Expect many more quotable quotes from Lapo throughout the semester.

            By Food, Culture and Society in Italy at 3:00, I was dragging a little. Sitting around the countertop tables in our kitchen-classroom I found myself glancing at the clock every five minutes or so. Like my wine class in the morning though, once we reached the second half of class I was well awake. Starting next week we’ll have a short lecture followed by a tasting and then a cooking exercise. The first class was strictly tasting. We tried two different types of Italian honey a strong, dark honey called Miele della Luigiana and a lighter honey that was extremely sweet and smooth that comes from the Acicia tree. We also tried three different types of olives: green olives preserved in brine, black olives that are dried, baked and then rehydrated with olive oil and water, and then another type of green olive that is preserved with chili powder. We tried both the olives and honey on various types of Tuscan bread. Saving the best for last, my teacher brought out tiny jars of thirty-year-old balsamic vinegar (each jar costing about sixty euros) and had us taste the vinegar by itself. Then we drizzled it on top of a custard-flavored gelato. The combination was amazing. The balsamic vinegar gave the gelato an almost fruity taste. By the end of class I fully trusted my teacher and decided that, no matter what, I will taste everything she offers us. The lesson on cheese is late in the semester so hopefully I will have expanded my palate enough by that point to at least not gag during the tasting.