MARIANI’S

 

Virtual Gourmet

OCTOBER 4,  2026                                                                                            NEWSLETTER


Founded in 1996 

ARCHIVE




Carole Lombard

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NEW ORLEANS: ANTOINE'S
GOES ON AND ON AND ON
By Melanie Young

NEW YORK CORNER
SPACARELLI'S

By John Mariani


PEARL
CHAPTER  THREE

By John Mariani

GLUTTONY
Chapter Three
By John Mariani



NOTES FROM THE WINE CELLAR
SOME ITALIAN BEAUTIES

By John Mariani



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NEW ORLEANS: ANTOINE'S
GOES ON AND ON AND ON
By Melanie Young





     Service as the fifth-generation steward of the oldest restaurant in New Orleans and the oldest continually family-run restaurant in the United States falls on the broad shoulders of Rick Blount, CEO of Antoine’s Restaurant. Blount (left) is the great-great-grandson of this restaurant’s original founder, Antoine Alciatore, a young French chef who came to New Orleans in the 1800’s and opened Antoine’s in 1840.
    Like many individuals who grew up in a family-run restaurant business, Blount paid his dues and worked at Antoine’s during high school and college  After taking time to oversee other businesses enterprises both in New Orleans and Texas, he returned to the family business to join Antoine’s in 2005.
      Blount sat down with us for a recording of The Connected Table podcast to share his family’s story and the legacy of Antoine’s Restaurant, which has withstood the test of the time and its many challenges for nearly 200 years. That includes the Civil War, Prohibition, two World Wars, the Great Depression, Hurricane Katrina and the Covid-19 pandemic. Antoine’s started as a French Quarter boarding house and restaurant that won the hungry hearts of New Orleans society. In 1868 the restaurant moved to its current location on Saint Louis Street. Through shrewd real estate investments, Antoine’s son and chef, Jules Alciatore, expanded the restaurant’s footprint on that block.
         Generations of New Orleans families have gathered at Antoine’s alongside visitors to the city to enjoy the restaurant’s timeless haute French-Creole cuisine. These include signature dishes created at Antoine’s like oysters Rockefeller (right), pommes de terre soufflé, pompano en papillote and eggs Sardou. Today, the kitchen is overseen by native New Orleanian Executive Chef Ralph Pausina, who grew up working on his Croatian family’s oyster boats, developing an appreciation for Louisiana ingredients and heritage.
      Many world legends have dined at Antoine’s, from royalty, religious and political leaders to the arts, entertainment, sports and business.
Their autographed photos and letters of appreciation line the walls of one of the main dining rooms. Antoine’s has fourteen different dining rooms of various sizes, each  akin to a miniature museum with items collected over the years. One, the 1840 Room, is lined with family portraits. A few rooms are named for Carnival Krewes, with the most photographed being the Rex Room. At the Hermes Bar you can enjoy drinks while you wait to be seated or enjoy charbroiled oysters and generous bar bites, from shrimp remoulade and seafood gumbo to a wagyu beef burger.
    Some of our favorite dishes at Antoine’s include all the oyster dishes, the soufflé potatoes, pompano Pontchartrain (grilled pompano filet topped with butter poached lump crabmeat in a white wine reduction, Louisiana blue crab crusted redfish, and beef tenderloin filet with Marchand de Vin sauce.

       Whatever you do, save room for dessert. They are all fabulous, but the Baked Alaska (right) is the house specialty. Order in advance and be prepared to be wow’ed.
        We always enjoy finding an occasion to dine at Antoine’s. Of course, any day is an occasion to dine there. What makes it truly special besides the food and the history is the service that defines New Orleans hospitality. We even have our favorite servers, Murphy and Megan Ruiz, a delightful father and daughter. Murphy have worked at Antoine’s for nearly forty years’ and Megan talks about joining her father and learning from him with admiration. That kind of dedication to fine restaurant hospitality is hard to find these days.



Antoine’s is located at 713 Saint Louis Street.  The Hermes Bar is 
located at 725 Saint Louis Street.



Melanie Young and David Ransom co-host The Connected Table, broadcast to more than 65 podcast channels. Watch on YouTube at 
The Connected Table TV or Talk 4 Media. The show airs live Wednesdays, 2pm EST on W4CY/Talk 4 Media.Follow us on Instagram@theconnectedtable





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                                    NEW YORK CORNER


                                 

SPACCARELLI’S

238 Saw Mill River Road

Millwood, NY

914-941-0105

By John Mariani


                                                           



 

       I first visited Spaccarelli’s back when it opened in 1986 and thought it was an above average suburban Italian restaurant. After it changed hands in February this year, the Zuppa Group  completely renovated it to be one of most handsome restaurants in Westchester County, and I returned to find the food better than I recall but without much variation from what the menu had been. After all, why mess with success  over four decades?  

        But I could tell that co-owner Edi Dedi, whose long-running Zuppa in Yonkers and Mima Vinoteca in Irvington are thriving, wanted to put more of his and executive chef Paskual Dedi 's  (Edi's uncle)  own stamp on the menu, slowly and seasonally introducing regulars and newcomers to special dishes one doesn’t readily find in the region. I spoke to him about his plans and asked him to call me back when he had brought his menu more into focus and line with his ideas. No that I've tasted the results, I  found that Spaccarelli’s is now one of the best Italian ristoranti in the county.

       As noted, it’s a grand and beautiful space with high ceilings, tall windows, fine lighting, polished wooden floors and well-set tables. The noise level is, thankfully, not too high, but they don’t need the intrusive background music to keep spirits high. There is a sparkling bar area and also a splendid downstairs party room.  The wine list is strong, at 145 labels.

       The daily menu has all the old favorites, including the beloved potato gnocchi alla pomodoro, potato croquettes and chicken “Cif Ciaf” with sausage and peppers. I told Edi to have the chef cook what he wanted me to try and the results were, overall, superb.
    Right from the start things went well: the housemade focaccia was light, airy and topped with sun-dried
tomato whipped butter. Also made in house was excellent mozzarella, served with sweet cherry tomatoes and basil leaves. The last of summer's bright zucchini flowers (left) were amply stuffed with ricotta and an  arugula pesto, served with a light tomato sauce.
    Too often octopus salad  (above)  comes in a watery condition, but here, served with
green olives, red onion, red bliss potatoes, and frisée, finished with an olive oil and lemon dressing. everything remained crisp and the octopus suffused with flavor of its own.
    Unquestionably the the best rendition I've had in a long while of
Eggplant Parmigiana was at Spaccarelli's, with the texture of velvet and the sweetness married to the creamy topping.
                 Saltimbocca is classically made with veal cutlets pounded thin with a prosciutto and sage leaf blanket, but at Spaccarelli's they do a turn by using colossal-size shrimp finished with demi-glace,  a fine rendition I have not found anywhere else.    Dayboat Sea Scallops  were almost translucent, juicy and sweet, served over grilled corn with spicy hot ’nduja sauce.
    To everything on this specials menu there is a twist: House-made agnolotti (left) are packed with oxtail meat and salty
Pecorino Romano, served in sage brown butter and finished with spicy pangrattato  (breadcrumbs) for texture. I have had lobster risotto before but never colored and flavored by beets, arriving a lovely pink, its Canaroli rice perfectly tender, laced with goat's cheese and topped with toasted pistachios and lobster tail.
    Veal chop alla Valdostana (from the Valle d'Aosta region) was once a staple of Italian restaurants, but I haven't seen it in some time, and Spaccarelli's  reminds me how delicious, if over the top, this dish is (right): A massive
chop stuffed with oozing Fontina,prosciutto and spinach, served over whipped potatoes with a dark, woodsy porcini mushroom sauce, instead of the watery, tasteless brown sauce usually used.      
    They have thought through desserts, too, like the delightful, fried, crispy zeppole with ricotta (left) served with a caramel sauce, and a fine pistachio gelato.

     It would have been easy to play it safe with old favorites at Spaccarelli's, but Dedi and his staff recognize that there is a sophisticated clientele willing to try something different, distinctive, even educational. Among those I count myself. I can't wait to go back this fall and see what else is new.


Open Tues.-Sun. from 4 PM. Closed for lunch.


 

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PEARL


The Mysterious Death of Janis Joplin

By John Mariani


 



 CHAPTER  THREE

      

       Katie and David met midway between their homes at a small French bistro named  Saint Georges  in Hastings-on-Hudson where they had onion soup and steak frites with a bottle of Côtes-du-Rhône. 
    “Do you know what bothers me about all these celebrity drug deaths?” asked Katie. David took a deep breath, as if to suggest, “Here we go again.”
        “No, it’s more than a little strange that they are always ruled as ‘accidental,’ usually as an overdose,” she said.
        “Well, unless they can prove the guy did it on purpose and left a suicide note, what else can they say?”
        “Clearly some might have been suicide, given their personal histories. Others sound about as accidental as swallowing a whole bottle of aspirin.”
        “Which you’d throw up, if you did. I’ve seen it. Not pretty.”
        “Okay, a bottle of pain killers or sleeping pills.”
        "Well, you have to assume that in some, maybe most, the intent was not suicide but just taking enough to work the way the pills did when they were only starting out before the body began to want more and more to provide the desired effect.”
        “Ike Turner’s coroner’s report said he died of lung disease ‛complicated by cocaine overdose.’ With Heath Ledger they called it ‘combined drug toxicity’ from six different prescription drugs.”
        “Hollywood doctors tend to be very liberal with dispensing that shit,” said David.
        “And that’s part of my story.”   
        "Oh, so you now have a story? Alan Ok’d it?”
        “No,” said Katie, “you know how I always have to talk him into these things or go off on our own at our own expense.”
        “Yeah, so you had all the freedom you could want to pursue a story even I thought had no traction.”
         “Which you don’t think this one has?”
          “This wine’s making me a little fuzzy,” he said. “Tell me what the story is.”
          Katie wiped her mouth and took out a small notebook.
         “Okay, so many of these overdoses—not all but so many—once they were ruled accidental it took any suspicion off why and how they occurred. Official report, closed case. But I’ve done a little research and found that in so many of these cases there were almost always some suspicions swirling around the events.”
        David leaned back and said, “You mean conspiracy theories, like Bobby Kennedy had the Mafia kill Marilyn Monroe to cover up him and Jack screwing around with her?”
       “That was a bit far-fetched,” said Katie. “And a long time ago. I’ve been looking at the ones that happened in the late ‘60s and’70s, although there were plenty of others in the ‘80s and ‘90s.” Flipping through her notebook Katie rattled off, “Elvis, Judy Garland, Howard Hughes, Freddie Prinze, Keith Moon, Sid Vicious—all in the ‘70s’; John Belushi, the jazz trumpeter Chet Baker. Hey, how did Bob Marley die?”
        “Skin cancer. Go on.”
       “Abbie Hoffman, River Phoenix, Cobain, Margaux Hemingway, Chris Farley, and so on into the 2000s.”
       “Okay, and your point is?”
       “My point is that there may be a thread here as to who gave them these drugs with such abandon.”
       “You’re speaking of several decades, drug cartels, big time pushers, crooked doctors—not to mention those in their entourage who bring them new drugs to try all the time.”
       “And that’s my story,” said Katie.
       “Follow the money?”
       “That’s only part of it.  I want to make connections, ferret out the big names. What always bothers me is that these stars’ managers and agents and the insurance companies who underwrite them as safe risks allow these people to slide into a quick death after a slow decline. If they allow it to go on they’re just losing their golden goose.  Millions of dollars at stake if your cash cow dies.”
       “Nice mix of animal metaphors,” said David.
    “I’m serious. The general outline of the entertainment business’s drug trade and usage is nothing new, but there are always rumors about the death of these top-of-the-pack celebs.”
       “Such as what?” asked David, as if he was a desk sergeant at three in the morning in a drug-rich precinct.
       “Glad you asked. You know Stevie Ray Vaughan?”
       “The Texas blues singer? Oh, yeah, one of the greatest ever, according to his competitors. Died in a helicopter crash  accident, right?”
       “Right, I love his work too. So, I’m scrolling around for some of his videos on YouTube and I come across an interview in which he was asked what he thought of Jimi Hendrix, who had died years before. And Vaughan mumbles about how they’re really two different styles of guitarists and so on. Then the interviewer asks him what he thought about Hendrix killing himself with drugs. And Vaughan takes a pause, looks down and then looks straight ahead and says—without elaborating—‘
I don't believe that he died because he was a druggie. I believe he had a little help because he scared many people.’
       “Now, the interesting thing is that both Hendrix and Vaughan came from rough childhoods, Vaughan’s father was an alcoholic and he became one, too, as well as addicted to cocaine. I read where his morning pick-me-up was a glass of whiskey with cocaine dissolved in it. So, he has a mental breakdown on tour, and the doctor at the hospital says his health was shot and that he had the stomach of a 65-year-old. That seems to have shaken him out of it and he got sober. But he well knew what Hendrix had gone through.”
       “So, what are you saying?” asked David.
       “Well, what did he mean by such a statement? What exactly did happen? Was anyone else involved?”
       Trained as a detective to be highly skeptical of open questions suggesting  conspiracy, David said, “And how, after all these years, do you plan to find out? Dig up their graves? Exhume the bodies?”
       “I’m too squeamish for that. But I did read the official coroner’s report  that concluded Hendrix suffocated from his own vomit while intoxicated with barbiturates, but  at the inquest the coroner said there was no evidence of suicide and, without any more evidence, recorded his death as ‛an open verdict.’ And you know what an open verdict means?”
         David nodded and said, “Refresh my memory.”
       “It means that a death is ‘suspicious’ and that a crime  may have been committed  but they haven’t the evidence to prove it.”
       “Exactly, and did you know that the drummer of The Who, Keith Moon, had an open verdict when he died?”
       “When was that?”
       “Late seventies, like ‘78. Supposed overdose. Some said it was suicide, but he’d just asked his girlfriend to make him some lamb chops, which you don’t do if you’re planning to kill yourself that same evening.”
       “Curiouser and curiouser,” said Katie.
        “And did you know he was renting the same flat in London where Mamma Cass also lived and died? That one was said to be a heart attack, with no drugs in her system. Her daughter said she died from a heart attack because of her morbid obesity and that her agent made up a story about her choking on a ham sandwich to dispel any rumors she died from a drug overdose. Though she did have a bad drug habit to boot.”
        "Another odd coincidence.”
        "If you say so.”
        “David, how do you know all this stuff?”
       “I loved The Who. I saw them do Tommy at Madison Square Garden. Moon was already out of control, known for blowing up hotel toilets. All The Who members did drugs, but Moon was really out there.”
        “And that was an open verdict, too?” asked Katie.
        “Yeah, but, you know—and I’m playing into your suspicions—with a lot of celebrity deaths the officials whitewash what might have happened. They don’t want people like you snooping around, so they leave the determination of death a little  . .  . vague. Open verdict.”
        Katie slanted her head and said, “And even more curious.”
        “Well, you know about Nelson Rockefeller’s death, right?”
        “Yeah, he was supposedly with his mistress?”
        “An aide, a nice twenty-five year-old named Megan Marshack. So,  the initial report on his death stated
that he died  from a heart attack at his desk in his office at Rockefeller Center, but a few days later they changed that to say he actually keeled over late that evening at his townhouse on West 54th Street, with Megan, who everybody knew he was having an affair with. The joke at the time was that Rockefeller didn’t know if he was ‘coming or going that night.’ First person Megan calls is a TV reporter friend, not 911, the medics or the police. Afterwards the Rockefeller family refused to allow an autopsy and cremated the body. Megan got a little money from Rocky’s will.”
        “This was when?”
        “Nineteen-seventy-nine.”
     “So, all these people we’re talking about are dying within years of each other under questionable circumstances.”
       “Lots of people did and do,” said David. “Duane Allman got killed in a motorcycle accident in ’71. His brother Gregg lasted until ’92 but he did die of a drug overdose.”
        “He the one married to Cher, for, what, one week?”
        “Yeah, but that was back in the seventies.”
        “So, you don’t think there’s any possible connection between all, or some, of  these very odd deaths of very prominent people?”
        David picked up his wine glass and said, “Well, if anyone can find that out, it will be you, Katie Cavuto. Alla salute!”





 
© John Mariani, 2025




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                    GLUTTONY

                                                                    Eating Ourselves Sick

                                                                   By John Mariani




CHAPTER THREE



        That some of the earliest art in prehistory is so consistently devoted to hunting, preserved and protected deep within Stone Age caves proves the symbolic importance of the activity as a form of story-telling with both practical and mythical associations. To go by the depictions of such hunts in cave paintings (the oldest date to about 35,000 years ago) in sites like Cantabria, Spain, and Lascaux, France, the figures of hunted animals are not only sophisticated in their artfulness but also robust, colorful and realistic, showing the sheer, massive bulk of the prey. The hunters at Lascaux (left) were instead drawn as kinetic figures of good physique, but  a cave painting in Morella la Vella, Spain (right), from the Late Magdalenian Period (15,000-10,000 BC) shows fighting archers looking more like praying mantises than human beings, with less flesh on them than a Giacometti sculpture. A hundred-yard long rock panel, discovered in 2011, known as the Sea Island Petroglyph in Utah shows Navajo and Ute tribe depictions of hunters and horned animals from 6,000 BC to about 1350 AD that give both the same, more natural scale and bodily bulk.
       Homo sapiens were not emaciated, and hunters of the period of the cave paintings were certainly stocky, like today’s Southern Mediterranean males, though in Africa they might have been as tall, lean and wiry as Maasai warriors, who originated in the southern Nile Valley. 
      
In contrast, the small female figures carved from soft stone found in many of the caves and other sites were usually fat to the point of what we would today call morbid obesity. Some have small heads and tapered waistlines, but usually the breasts, stomach and thighs are those of a very fat, perhaps pregnant woman. They have been dubbed “venus figurines,” the name of the Greek goddess of love and beauty bestowed on them by Frenchman Paul Hurault, who in 1864 discovered the first such figurines in France’s Vézère Valley  (left), which, curiously, have no facial features, perhaps suggesting a universal woman rather than an individual.
       There are no accepted theories as to why these females were depicted in such bloated ways: conjectures have ranged from their being an exaggerated anatomical reverence of fertility or as powerful earth mother goddesses.* Archaeologists who discovered an 8,000 year-old bovine female figurine with pendulous breasts at Catalhoyuk, Turkey, have surmised that she was not a fertility goddess but a representation of an older woman who had achieved status among her people (right). There has even been a quirky suggestion that they were made by adolescent boys fueled by their hormone-driven fantasies.  There is certainly nothing to suggest that actual hard-working Paleolithic women had access to so much food that they could gorge and bulk up to such tremendous size while their mates remained thin. A bit of extra food allowed or encouraged for a pregnant woman might have made sense, but allowing a female to gorge did not. Sharing everything was the key to survival in Paleolithic times. 


* Although such figurines were a deliberate exaggeration, the idea behind them is borne out by modern studies of how society views women’s curvaceousness. According to an article in the Journal of Biological Psychology  (March 2005), "Hip size indicates pelvic size and the amount of additional fat storage that can be used as a source of energy. Waist size conveys information such as current reproductive status or health status ... in westernized societies with no risk of seasonal lack of food, the waist, conveying information about fecundity and health status, will be more important than hip size for assessing a female's attractiveness.”

 

 

       The popular idea of a fit, muscular caveman leaving his family to hunt and then return to a small extended family tending the children is not so farfetched. Indeed, it appears that among Paleolithic hunter-gatherers the acquisition of meat by male members of a community was considered of such crucial importance for its survival that everyone shared equally in its  consumption, without favoritism or hierarchy. In his book Affluence Without Abundance: The Disappearing world of the Bushmen (2017), anthropologist James Suzman writes that the Bushmen of Namibia and Botswana (left) still engage in a ritual of “insulting the meat” brought back by the hunter, so that “the sum of individual self-interest and the jealousy that policed it was a fiercely egalitarian society where profitable exchange, hierarchy, and significant material inequality were not tolerated.”   In other words, the idea of one boastful male claiming a bigger share or a choicer cut of the meat as his right is stopped short as soon as he arrives back at camp hoisting the meat from his shoulder.
       There was, then, a division of labor among hunter-gatherer tribes, both before and after agriculture came to dominate human history. Before, each member had his or her job, the hunter to hunt, the women to gather and cook, the children and elderly to maintain the premises around the fire camp. “The exchange and sharing of food meant that the one who gives today can expect to receive tomorrow,” write Peter Farb and George Armelagos, “and from that expectation stem reciprocal obligations, rules to enforce fair sharing, and marital ties between kin groups to make sharing permanent. The human family probably could not have risen without those early and simple steps toward the sharing of food."     
    The authors go on to explain that among the Copper Eskimo tribe of central Canada, each hunter agrees upon nineteen cuts of the kill prior to the hunt. Upon the presentation of the prey, the hunter’s wife parcels out the cuts to recipients called by the cut he receives—“Stomach-Meat-Companion,” “Neck Companion,” “Liver Companion” and so on—a ritual called nippiqtug, meaning “he waits to get his share.”* (Still, the Inuit do have a specific word for gluttony: nerretunerk.)

    


* It was to be expected that Hollywood scriptwriters and producers had no use for such tribal niceties, instead depicting grunting cave men and cosmetically enhanced women in movies like One Million B. C. (1940 and 1966), Prehistoric Women (1960), Valley of the Dragons (1961) and When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth (1970) showing the dominant males of the tribe fighting over meals—including dinosaur meat—while throwing scraps to the rest and treating the females, with shaven legs and armpits, like slaves.


 

       How human beings went from such selfless sharing to arguing, even battling over the spoils of a hunt or harvest, subsequently leading to a future prospect of gluttonous behavior, is the story of man’s settling down into villages, towns, cities and, ultimately, nations. It began about 40,000 years ago, after humans had become so successful hunting animals like wild horses, cave lions and woolly mammoths that some large animal species began to die off, many hunted to extinction.  Even the expansion of hunting grounds after the end of the Ice Age did not slow a  decrease in game that would eventually cause hunter-gatherers to consider alternative ways to raise the kind of food they had always simply plucked from the trees and the ground.
       Still, the natural abundance of plants within new settlements precluded any leap into agriculture. For one thing, even if large game was growing scarce, one small animal provided the food value that would have required a full day’s foraging. Hunting not only provided sustenance but protein, vitamins, minerals and fat, which, in combination with fruits, grains and plants, enabled human brains to grow much larger than other mammals’, enabling our ancestors to craft tools to make hunting and farming easier:*  Gathering became less arduous and much faster, fires were maintained throughout the day for cooking and warmth, containers were now used to transport food, storage facilities were constructed and social rules and routines were set for mealtime. 

 

* Spears had been used for thousands of years for hunting, but about 9,000 BC man developed the much more effective bow and arrow.

 

       Nevertheless, a thousand years before agriculture began, breeding livestock had already been in place. Even cave dwellers in North Africa, Turkey and North America tended flocks. Agriculture began in fits and starts, beginning around 12,000 years ago in Mesopotamia (although an excavation in 1999 of a site called Ohalo II [left] on the shores of Galilee found a mix of 150,000  “proto-weeds” and cereals, suggesting domestication and cultivation of cereals dated back 7,000 years earlier.)  
       The Near East began to receive a bounty of vast fields of wild grain as the glaciers retreated 12,000 years ago. Agriculture in Southeast Europe, India and China began around 7,000 BC; in Central Europe around 5,500 and in Northern Europe around 4,000. Maize had been domesticated in Mexico 7,000 years ago. Wild rice was widespread throughout the world, but the species called Oryza sativa (which actually means “sown rice”) that became a basic food for much of mankind, dates back only 5,000 years, first grown along the Yangtze River in China.
       Farming developed much later in tropical zones because digging up plants from soft, warm, moist soil was so much easier than in climates with harder, drier soil, which required digging, arranging and irrigation. Those who did the digging and hoe-ing would soon find out that soil once disturbed becomes more fertile through oxygenation and more receptive to new seeds. It would turn out that one acre of land was capable of producing a hundred times more food than hunter-gatherers.
       The increase in the growing and tending of crops caused more people to move closer together, what is called “sedentism,” which required them more than ever to depend on every member when a sufficient supply of food for everyone was of critical importance. Storage and allocations now needed to be overseen and managed by certain members who earned salaries, perhaps in the form of extra food, that enabled them to become wealthier than others in what had previously been a fairly egalitarian social system. The wise storage of grain (right) could help a population through famine, which was the result of dependence on grown crops––one of the recurring stories in the Bible.

        Tribal leaders came to realize that grain, not wild game, could be taxed, and the more of it produced, the more taxes would fill the tribal coffers for other needs and projects. Accounting for all that data was, as Jared Diamond suggests in Guns, Germs, and Steel, a principal reason why the skill of writing finally appeared about 3,000 BC in Sumer: “Early writing served the needs of those political institutions (such as record keeping and royal propaganda), and the users were full-time bureaucrats nourished by stored food surpluses grown by food-producing peasants.” Hunter-gatherers had never needed such a skill.
       For such reasons, expanded agriculture would begin to have  lasting, often dire, effects on the rest of human history.  The more people a tribe could sustain through efficient management of grain and plant food, the more the tribe could grow in numbers, requiring more food, more grain, more meat and fish to thrive, even to survive on. Land would become valuable, and if it became scarce, the acquisition by force of other tribe’s lands became the only way a people could grow and survive.  In more ancient times tribes had fought over relatively small sections of land within a territory. But by the end of the Neolithic Age, with a world population of 100 million, the stakes were much higher, requiring more than a few warriors as well as strong leaders to subdue, even enslave, other people. And to the victors would go the spoils.  It seemed that gluttony was now an inevitable step in the process of becoming civilized.

 

TO BE CONTINUED. . .



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                                NOTES FROM THE WINE CELLAR



SOME ITALIAN BEAUTIES

By John Mariani




 

 

       For a half century now, Italian wines have been getting better in every one of its 20 wine-growing regions, where they have modernized their viticulture, from Piedmont to Puglia to Sicily. Even the vino della casa at trattorias is now more than dependable and well worth ordering. Which is not to say that Italy does not produce a lot of undistinguished wine in bulk, much of which the world has accepted as pleasant and refreshing, nothing more, which is why there is so much poor-quality Pinot Grigio and Prosecco flooding the market. In addition, some higher-end producers jumped on the idea––not wrongheaded––that people want to drink fruitier, high-alcohol varietals like Cabernet Sauvignon and Pinot Noir where such grapes have scant history in Italy.

       Nevertheless, I find that Italian wines, overall, offer better quality at a reasonable price than developing wine regions in the New World can offer. Here are several I’ve enjoyed for just those virtues.

 

 

    Founded in the late 1800s by Carlo Vietti in the Langhe hills of Piedmont, Vietti has been known principally for its superb Barolos and Barbarescos. In the 1950s Luciana Vietti married winemaker and art connoisseur Alfredo Currado, who innovated  the way the wines were made, creating one of the first Barolo crus (1961 Rocche di Castiglione).  In 2016, the winery was acquired by the Krause family, enabling Vietti to extend its properties in the Colli Tortonesi, and others total 185 acres.

       I had no familiarity with Vietti’s  2024 Derthona Timorasso Colli Tortonesi ($43), made from a white grape grown in since antiquity in Piedmont but only recently revived. Derthona is the ancient name of Tortona, just east of Barolo. The wine is made in ceramic tanks fitted with stainless steel couplings and doors that allow for tiny, controlled doses of oxygen into the wine, thereby gently marrying the terroir’s minerality and salinity. According to wine scholar Ian D'Agata, “legend has it that even Leonardo da Vinci liked Temu Rosso wines so much that his gifts at Isabella de Aragona’s wedding were the Monte Borei, an ancient cheese of the area, and a bottle of  ‘Timuràs.’”   Global warming has only helped this thin-skinned varietal, and its flavors are now splendidly concentrated.

 

       I have always loved Barbera, especially Barbera d’Alba and d’Asti, and Vietti’s  2023 Barbera d'Alba Vigna Scarrone ($61) comes from a single cru vineyard in the Barolo area, and there’s no question that it shares a flavor profile with its big sister Barolo. It is aged in barriques and casks for 18 months and unfiltered, giving it extra body, with 15% alcohol, which is high for Barbera. For those who do not wish to pay the high price for Barolo, Barbera d’Alba is a wise choice.

 

 

    While we’re on the subject of Barolo, one of those I’ve enjoyed most recently in from Livia Fontana Fontanin 2018 ($45), which is now maturing into a terrific example. The estate is in Castiglione Falletto’s Bussia area. Famous for its Barolos, they combine young and old vines for their own qualities, both fruity and yet powerful, with good acids and tannins for a long life.

 

Castello Romitorio’s 2018 Brunello di Montalcino ($70) is very much in line with modern thinking about this Tuscan red (which kicked off the “Super Tuscan” hype) that it need not take 20, 30 or 50 years to peak. Brunellos are now made to be drunk sooner, and six years have done nicely by this big, bountiful, well-balanced wine of Sangiovese. It is lighter than some but has plenty of nuance and softened tannins. Its label  (left) is by the great Italian master Sandro Chia.

 

 

Nero d’Avola from Sicily has been growing in popularity for the last five to ten years, and, with its big fruity nature and soft tannins, it’s easy to understand why. Azienda Agricola del Grillo ($40), in Alcamo, is a fine example, based on three generations of experience, as 100% Nero d’Avola, macerated for 12 days and stored for eight months in stainless steel and three in bottle. 

 

 

Visionario Bianco de Alessandro Callici 2025 ($23) is from Tre Venezie, and its IGT status allows the wine maker to blend varietals of his own choosing (unfortunately not named on the back label), but it is a very aromatic northeastern white wine based on an unusual blend of Chardonnay and Gewürztraminer grapes that combine citrus with spice and perfume.

 

 

San Lorenza Ciliegiolo Sassotondo 2021 ($59) comes from Tuscany’s Maremma district, made by Carla Benini (a former economist from Trento) in Pitigliano using 60-year-old Ciliegiolo grapes in volcanic soil. No yeasts are added, and the fermentation takes place in steel tanks with fermentation and maceration lasting 15 to 20 days, followed by 18 to 24 months in Slovenian oak barrels, and then bottled and aged another year in.

 

 



Pillastro Rosso Selezione d’Oro 2023
($25). Respected wine maker Angelo Maci demonstrates how far Puglia’s viniculture has come at cantina wineries, while still keeping its alcohol sensible, at 13.5% and delivering body and spice from the Primitivo grape from 45-year-old vines with a little Negroamaro added. Cantine Due Palme was founded in 1989 and aims for full-bodied, highly expressive reds. A very good price for a prized Puglian bottling.









Ca' dei Frati I Frati Lugana 2025 ($20). A white wine from Lombardy near Lake Garda made from 100% Turbiana (also called Trebbiano di Lugana and is a variety of Verdicchio) at 13% alcohol, ideal for all seafood. The winery has been around since 1782 and since 1969 the first bottling with the Lugana Casa dei Frati wines were released. The fourth generation of the family now runs it, and they are devoted to wines that are meant to be enjoyed upon release. The fruit is lovely, with a light green tint,  and the acid has a real edge that makes this so refreshing just to sip with some prosciutto.


























                                                                                                                          















              

MARIANI'S VIRTUAL GOURMET NEWSLETTER is published weekly.  Publisher: John Mariani. Editor: Walter Bagley. Contributing Writers: Christopher Mariani,  Misha Mariani, John A. Curtas, Gerry Dawes, Geoff Kalish. Contributing Photographer: Galina Dargery. Technical Advisor: Gerry McLoughlin.

 

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