As the house band started playing its repertoire of mostly Eagles ballads, we sat back and enjoyed a few finer Champagnes. The set list picked up, and the growing bass thrummed in sync with our move into a deeper Bordeaux. A well-timed guitar solo found me taking longer with each sip and blocking out everything but the Fender Stratocaster and Château Lascombes. The evening concluded, I returned to earth, and I filed this epiphany in the back of my mind; however, not long after, another music/wine synergy occurred.

“Lover You Should’ve Come Over,” the seventh track off of Jeff Buckley’s album Grace was playing in my apartment. I had a glass of Josko Gravner’s 2002 Ribolla Anfora in hand and was sipping. It felt as if the wine transformed into Buckley’s voice in amber, liquid form. Gravner’s wine has often struck me as artistic: fully alive, ever-evolving and somehow always striking the right chord. Like Gravner’s wine, Buckley’s voice is unfiltered and pure. I’ve never heard another singer pull off this song like Buckley, and I can’t help but note that there is only one Gravner.

Finding common threads in music and wines is easy if you think about your favorites. But having it occur spontaneously—and being perceptive enough to notice when it does—is an unexpected reward and an infinite pleasure. And if you do have a wine pairing for Springsteen’s “Born to Run,” Zeppelin’s “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You” or Pearl Jam’s “Black,” I’d love to know.

Radikon

When we arrived at the Radikon estate for a lunch and tasting, there was a beautiful table set up right on the edge of a hill; we could see vineyards for miles. We were first greeted by their tail-wagging dog, Fortunato, carrying a ball in his mouth; he was followed by the rest of the family. While Suzana and Stanko were cooking away in the kitchen, the eldest son Sasa gave us a tour of the vineyards and cellar. When we sat to eat, we were delighted. The dishes were paired with several of their wines from different vintages, and the meal couldn’t have been more perfect. The Radikons were so kind and welcoming that it felt as if we were a part of the family, if only for that afternoon. It’s that welcoming philosophy and tradition that informs the winemaking process and makes Radikon wines truly special and, in my opinion, best enjoyed with people you love.

Movia

The night before our lunch at Ales Kristancic’s estate in Slovenia, he sent us an email saying that plans have changed and to throw the old menu, which had been in the works for several months, out the window. He claimed he had something even better waiting for us—and if you know or have heard stories about Ales, you know that this is no surprise, for he’s an unpredictable, free spirit. We had a magnificent six-course lunch cooked by a professional chef, accompanied by a solo guitar performance by Ales. When it was time to tour the cellar, he preceded us by a few minutes so that he could prepare. Descending into the cellar, we found he’d lit candles around his pieces of art that were displayed, thus setting the tone for his performance. He led us quietly around and whispered the secrets of the wines that surrounded us. Not able to contain his excitement, he grabbed a few glasses and dipped them into a small metal canister filled with a golden liquid. It was a special dessert wine made from Picolit and Ribolla grapes when the vines get affected by botrytis (he only makes this wine for personal consumption). It’s easy to see how Ales’ personality appears in every one of his bottles, but it’s especially evident in the Puro, his sparkling wine that he leaves undisgorged so that it has to be opened under water to remove the dead yeasts. Opening this wine is an event in itself that commands attention and draws in a crowd for the show, much like its creator.

Gravner

Visiting the Gravner estate in the afternoon for a tour and tasting, we were met by Josko himself. He appeared much more reserved than the other producers that we had met, perhaps because he still considers himself a farmer before anything else. Even before we arrived to the heart of the cellar, he paused to tell us about his journey, almost as if it were a right of passage. He wanted to make sure we understood who he was and his purpose—in short, why he made wines this way. He chose every word that he spoke carefully to show us his spirit and way of life. Wine to him is an extension of his soul; he considers it a part of him, like his children. Josko leads by example and feels that to make good wine you need to be at peace with yourself. He told us that he’s going to start aging all of his wines for seven years, because that’s the time it takes for a cell in the human body to fully regenerate. We paused before a wooden platform with an orange rim peeking up like a strange flower; this was one of the ancient clay anfora from the country of Georgia that Josko lines with beeswax and buries underground. Josko explains that the anfora was the first known technique for making wine. Believing in this tradition, Josko told us that to his thinking, there is no use in reinventing the already perfect wheel. It’s clear that Josko is sure of who he is and what he wants, and this certainty manifests itself in his wines—they embody his persona and are just as complex and nuanced as he is.

All three of these producers create magnificent wines, and I can’t even begin to give them the justice that they deserve. I am truly grateful for the opportunity to have met them all and to begin my journey of understanding wine, where it comes from, who makes it and how those two factors work together make wine the glory that it is.

I have long been a fan of still Rosé in the spring and summer months. Americans are catching on to the Rosé trend, and some are even ready to make a big leap to the glorious white wines from Italy.  In regard to the whites, I must say that Pigato is a relatively new wine for me and one I have enjoyed tremendously. Before I started at IWM I’d not enjoyed Gravner, Radikon and Movia to the degree that I do now, and it has been a great pleasure introducing people to these wines. Now I wonder, what’s next?

Much of that desire to expand my wine horizons comes from being in a more secure place. Some of this has to do with the extraordinary people that I work with today. IWM has a remarkable pool of talent where we are constantly pushing each other, which has created marvelous tasting opportunities. So what does the future hold for us? We are seeing not only glorious Italian wines, but wines of consequence on a more global level.  Will we see Gruner Veltliner on an IWM offer? Is Schruebe truly the next big thing? I look forward to discovering the answers to these questions, expanding my reference point, and sharing my knowledge with our readers as we go forward.  There are so many beautiful wines being made in Italy and beyond that it will be a pleasure to communicate this journey.

Moving into summer, I look forward to new dishes on the grill with more fish and vegetables and less meat. I look forward to white wines with racy acidity and subtle fruit. I look forward to platters of shellfish and an endless glass of Sauvignon Blanc. I look forward to the wild, the wonderful and the esoteric.

And I look forward to hearing that your next few months are filled with similar delights.

The newsletter sub-title reads “The More You Travel in It, the Bigger the World Gets,” and the text exclaims, “Let’s welcome the new year with some good, breaking news: the world has not become homogenized, Starbucksed, and McDonald’sed nearly to death.”  It goes on to say, “But you probably run into people who drone on about this poor shrunken world and what a mess it’s in.”  Reading these lines, I couldn’t help but think how valid this sentiment is not just in the world at large, but also in the world of wine.

Just as many travelers decry there being any undiscovered getaways, many wine lovers bemoan “standardizing yeasts” and gluts of Cabernet and Chardonnay on the market.  Such arguments are fair enough in some regards and at an entry to mid-market quality level.  However, especially in the premium quality wine world, I argue the diversity of the wine world is increasing!  More producers are making more wines in many more corners of the earth, creating new wine styles and “terroir” influence; native varieties are being resuscitated; and new winemaking techniques are being experimented with, while old ones are revisited.  The vintages keep changing wines every year, too, especially given shifting weather patterns and winegrowers who are discovering new (or rediscovering old) ways of working with weather.  We’re also shipping wine all over the globe rather than drinking only what’s in the spigot at the local co-op.

Just as a quick example, a dinner party last night, we opened up wines from Abruzzo (1995 Emidio Pepe Trebbiano, deliciously oxidized, nutty notes), Napa (2007 Selene Sauvignon Blanc and 1999 Paul Hobbs Cabernet), Rheinhessen (1989 Wittmann Albalonga, a grape variety, Beerenauslese), Austria (2003 Schloss Gobelsburg Grüner Veltliner; 2000 Jamek Riesling Ried Klaus; and a Bründlmayer sekt, a sparkling wine) and France (a 1999 sweet wine from Gaillac and a fortified 1994 Cave de l’Abbé Rous Banyuls.)  We had a wealth of diversity to celebrate—along with the host’s generosity.

I’d say the biggest homogenizing point in wine in the last twenty years has simply been cleaning them up.  While I admit that this is a big homogenizing point, I have to counter that objection with a question: how can improving quality be bad? I look at diminished brettanomyces, lowered volatile acidity and reduced unintentional oxidation, and I see the positives.

Just as we need to be open to traveling to new and undiscovered destinations, we have to be open to new and possibly unusual wines, like Movia, Gravner and Dettori, among so many others we offer at IWM. The breadth of choices in wine is greater than ever.  Once open to discovery, we’ll keep seeing just how much there is yet to explore.

Sippel began his culinary career in his hometown of Buffalo, New York. As a teenager, he began washing dishes at a pub and then worked his way into the kitchen. His Sicilian grandfather later sent him to Italy to help him with his culinary inspiration. Over the years, Sippel has cooked in Italy, France and London, working in many fine restaurants. He spent his last few years in New York working with Scott Conant.

To say that Sippel is old school would be an understatement. Sippel doesn’t talk about his food; rather, it speaks for him. Where many of today’s young chefs are lacing their dishes with foams, deconstructing food and using laboratory devices to prepare their dishes, Sippel employs traditional methods in order to cook from his heart. His cuisine rests in his commitment to source consistently beautiful products. He uses few ingredients in each dish and allows the integrity of the ingredient to carry the dish. The result is something natural, and something beautiful.

One example of Sippel’s commitments to simplicity is where the chef looks for inspiration—for instance, winemaker Josko Gravner. This iconoclastic producer moved away from the ultra-modern techniques that he had championed, even mastered, in order to work with clay amphorae, and this producer’s adoption of ancient methods showed Sippel how a chef could move away from ultra-modern techniques to achieve a state of natural harmony. Sippel embraces techniques that are decades old and have stood the test of time. Some chefs impart their will onto the product, but the result is often something contrived—flavorful yet lacking finesse. It feels manipulated. Sippel’s food is very different. There is a delightful, subtle elegance to his execution.  More importantly, he does not sacrifice flavor for technique.

Sippel has the magic in his fingers. His dishes show a profound respect for the integrity of the product. Fish is either served raw or medium rare, always. The delicacy of the tissue remains intact, and the accoutrement complements the flavors. His pastas are made in-house daily and served with traditional sauces with a few simple, seasonal components. This winter he made butternut squash pasta with bone marrow and sage. That crescent moon pasta slid into my mouth and melted, as the understated sweetness of the squash was matched by the herbal component of the sage. The bone marrow gave it the richness that made my toes curl, made my eyes close and made me silently give thanks for being alive.

Macho, as Sippel is affectionately known, handles meat with similar reverence. He lets the product speak for itself.  This approach is one embraced by such acclaimed chefs as Eric Rippert from Le Bernadine, Patrick O’Connell at the Inn at Little Washington and Thomas Keller at The French Laundry. These chefs have moved beyond ego to create a sublime sophistication in their cuisine. I am proud to say the young man in our kitchen has discovered this glorious, simple magic at an early age. I’m even happier that I get to eat his food on a regular basis.

Last night at Tuscany by H, located in my newly adopted city of Hong Kong, I was able to pay it forward.  Chef Harlan blew away my group of dining companions with his Roasted Scallop in Porcini Mushroom Puree and a perfectly done Rib Eye with Barolo Sauce, which our rambunctious crew paired with Gravner 2003 Ribolla Anfora, Bodega Chacra 2007 Treinta y Dos and Farnese Edizione Cinque Autoctoni (a beautiful Montepulciano-based blend from Abruzzo and Puglia).  Yet all the while as we sat eating and drinking and laughing, a bottle of Quintarelli 1998 Amarone sat waiting, almost teasing, in the background.  When the Quintarelli finally made its way into our glasses, something rare happened at our table: silence.  First giddiness, then silence.  Sipping my wine, I watched the same expressions I’d made the first time I drank a Quintarelli Amarone; mirrored around me were my friends’ faces, all struck with that singular expression of trying to understand the astounding symphony that was playing loudly in their wineglasses.

That night, I saw that the rabid Quintarelli cult had a few new members, and I was proudly re-initiated myself. While a few others at the table emphatically chose the stunning Bodega Chacra as their Wine of the Night, for me it was—and will often be—Quintarelli. We wine drinkers are generous folks; all of us are eager to pay it forward and introduce our friends to these new favorites. I hope it won’t be long before we’re all back at that same table discovering new classics and laughing so hard that our faces hurt far more than our stomachs.