The Inside Story from Italian Wine Merchants

Montalcino Dreamin’

Posted on | August 1, 2011 | Written by Janice Cable | 2 Comments

The day after I returned from Italy, I posted a Facebook status that read “I miss Italy. That took, oh, eighteen hours.” A friend of mine responded, “Yes, but it’ll last forever.”

I’m beginning to see that he was right.

For about a month after returning to New York City, I suffered intense culture shock. Everything seemed strange and alien, and not in an interesting way. The city that I had loved for over twenty years seemed to have lost its charm; I felt like a stranger in an estranged land. Now back almost two months, I’m no longer feeling that shock that comes from a profound sense of loss. Rather, I’m feeling nostalgia for Italy, and both Italy and my warm and fuzzy feelings for it have been popping up in multiple ways.

First, I’m reading Eat, Pray, Love, which if nothing else articulates the vitality, the weirdness and the beauty of Italian (though less that of Rome, at least in my experience).  Anyone who knows me would be surprised by this development. I’m not the kind of gal who gravitates to reading fare that sits in the aisle marked “Chick Lit.” I can only chalk it up to extreme nostalgia for the land I left seven weeks ago.

Less surprising is my gravitating toward Italian foods, or not so much food but Italian methods of eating and drinking, or not so much methods as Italian protocol. I have, for example, abandoned my French press in favor of my new espresso maker, and I now drink many little cups throughout the day (though I still can’t give up adding a spot of milk). I chew on licorice root as breath freshener and when I want a sweet snack. I buy hideously expensive olive oil, fresh sheep ricotta, and Parmigiano Reggiano, because a house is incomplete without those items. I shop a lot more frequently, especially at farmer’s markets. I eat dinner later, breakfast earlier, and more mindfully.

Cocktails always have appetizers with them. Wine always has food. There is also more wine. Fortunately, I have a job that supports that change. I feel bad for those who return from Italy and can’t indulge their wine wants as they’d like.

It’s weird, though. Here I am in the greatest city in the world in the middle of a sweet, sweet summer, one that has been filled with spending beautiful blue-sky days and twilight filled nights with my friends and my family, and I’m dreaming and scheming madly about when I can get back to Italy.

Not soon enough, I find, an answer that both my friend and many of you probably have heard in your own heads.

Montalcino dreamin’, on such a summer’s day.


2 Responses to “Montalcino Dreamin’”

  1. Laura
    August 3rd, 2011 @ 8:54 am

    Our oil’s not that expensive… 😉

  2. Janice Cable
    August 3rd, 2011 @ 9:30 am

    No, Laura, it’s not, especially when you consider all that goes into it, the work, the love, the time, and the olives from the Wenders’ tree.

    By the way, my parents want to adopt a tree, as does Tara.


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