The main stage at Eric Clapton's Crossroads Guitar Festival.

For me, enjoying great music and quality wine is as good as it gets, so to continue my journey to find the best tunes—and wines—I trekked to Chicago in June for Eric Clapton’s Crossroads Guitar Festival. The festival, started by Eric Clapton in 2007 to help fund his Crossroads rehab facility in Antiqua, is a chance for some of the greatest guitarist to get to together, collaborate and jam out on stage. This year, B.B. King, Buddy Guy, Jeff Beck, John Mayer, Sheryl Crow, Steve Winwood, Vince Gill and ZZ Top were part of the lineup.

I was there ostensibly, because I wanted to meet my longtime client and friend, Robert Carone, owner of Upstaging, a lighting, transport stage company. Carone, along with Fender’s Paul Jernigan, put together this year’s festival and invited me out. He’s been a client for the past four or five years and knows what Italian wine he likes. Give him your Soldera and your Conternos, and he’s a happy man. He often says, “Perry, just pick out what I should have,” and I do just that. From the top Super-Tuscans to the finest Barolos, Carone wants the best. He purchases wine for his cellar and also to give to his clients, often gifting promoters and management (Eric Clapton’s crew included) with some of IWM’s finest bottles. At this year’s Crossroads fest, IWM wines were not part of the main bar—the festival’s guitar sponsor, Fender, took over all the food and bar posts—but we still managed to enjoy some great Italian wines together before the show.

Son James (l) with Upstaging's Robert Carone.

Chicago was a blast. I saw an old friend, listened to some great live music and had a chance to spend some quality time with my son James who came along for the ride, though mostly to check out the guitars. A budding guitarist, James marveled at the vintage Fenders on display at the festival. He even got to meet the legend himself, Eric Clapton, as well as Steve Jordan, Derek Trucks, Warren Haynes and others. The real highlight was when James got to play a Billy Gibbons model Fender and jam with Los Lobos backstage. Watching him, I wish I played guitar too.

James with guitarist Cesar Rosas of Los Lobos.

Those vintage Fenders really left an impression on me. The long rows of them, gleaming and gently curving, each with its own personality and history, was a beautiful sight, and it, perhaps strangely, made me think of wine. People who really appreciate music, really get into it and understand it also seem to know the joy that comes from a classic guitar. It’s the same with wine. Those who really understand wine and have held a special bottle in their hands know its potential. What Crossroads reiterated to me was that some of the best guitars—and wines—will always grow in beauty and value over time.

Working at IWM helps me discover the terroir of Italian wine. I’ve sampled a multitude of wines in only a short few months, and my taste for Italy has been quickly piqued. I’m constantly amazed by the incredible wine selections IWM has accumulated—it’s the most comprehensive group that I’ve ever seen under one cellar. There’s Soldera, Giacosa and smaller producers like Hilberg, San Giustiniani—the list goes on and on. I’m realizing that Italy has so much to discover. It’s going to take some time, but it’ll be fun tasting each region. I want to visit. I will visit.

Travel is therapeutic. It’s good to break away from it all and recharge. Wine and travel together are even better. You can eat, pray and love anywhere you want, and if those activities require you to travel across the world, all the better. But whether I’m home in New York or I’m journeying through several time zones, there’s always something to discover, and I’m far from done searching.

Stonebridge Farm, Franklin, Tenn.

Back in June, I had a chance to return to one of my favorite cities: Nashville. I’d first visited in 2002, and I’d been itching to get back down there for some time. Nashville is about the music—country, blues, rock—but for this particular trip, it was also about wine.

I was meeting a dear friend, and longtime collector, Mike Ennis. Over the years, we’ve shared wines, meals, laughs, music. Mike loves music, but he loves wine even more. Wine is something he’s continuously discovering, and I can’t blame him. I think two of my loves in life will always be great wine and great music.

When in Nashville, I think there are things that you absolutely need to do. See good music and have dinner with great food, friends and wine. I was lucky to have both in spades. Mike, along with his wife Carol, invited me, my wife Sue, and our sons James and Ben along with several other guests to their home on beautiful Stonebridge Farm in Franklin, Tenn., just south of Nashville.

The 20-pound catfish.

To make this trip really special, I brought a collection of wines for Mike to try, including a Case Basse di Soldera Brunello di Montalcino Riserva 2002 and Pegasos 2005, Bruno Giacosa’s  Barolo Croera di La Morra 2004, Tenuta dell’Ornellaia Le Serre Nuove 2007, Bodega Chacra Pinot Noir Rio Negro Treinta y Dos 2006 and a La Spinetta Barbaresco Gallina 2005. Mike also pulled several wines from his collection, including a Grattamacco and Gaja Contessa from 1998 and a Jacques Selosse among others, and together we had one hell of a dinner.

When it comes to wine, Mike likes everything; he’s one of those guys who can drink anything. Have French Champagne? He loves it! I even brought a fresh Roger Coulon Brut Rosé NV into the mix of mostly Italian vino. When we first met, he already knew the big players in Italian wine—Gaja, the Conternos. Through our conversations and tastings over the years, he now trusts me to pass along what he wants, or may like, and I deliver.

Mike, wife Carol and the evening's wines.

I couldn’t help but soak in those moments as Mike went on and on about how great Italian Wine Merchants was over dinner, or how we managed to get wine right. Believe me, this was not filling any ego—it was really something to hear people say IWM knows how to pick really great wines and knows how to bring this understanding and great wines to their clients. The people have spoken. Well, some of them, and they like us! They really like us!

The need for dinner with friends completely satiated, I next got my music fix next when I stopped over to visit friend John McBride, husband of country singer

Martina McBride, a big wine collector and owner of the Blackbird Studio, one of the premier recording spots in the country. We first met John and Martina when they stopped into IWM. We then hosted them at Ornellaia (one of their favorite producers along with Quintarelli) in Italy last year. John also has a huge guitar collection, and he let my 16-year-old son James, a budding guitarist, lay down a few tracks in the legendary studio.

I thought I was done. I had enjoyed my two favorite things in one of my favorite places. But Mike had something in store for me: fishing—catfishing to be exact. I could have been in a dark, bluesy bar or lounge, soaking in the tunes, but instead I was on shore, in the heat and fishing. It’s funny, because I told Mike that fishing was new to me, and he was telling me how Italian wine was a new experience to him way back when. I guess we’ve helped turn one another on to some new things. I thought to myself that this relationship is what can happen when clients become friends. It’s not forced. It just happens. We talk at least once or twice a month about—what else—wine.

Mike and James rocking out.

It’s important for me to keep these relationships strong. When a person loves wine and trusts me to deliver, it’s priceless. It’s those friendships that have led to some of the best referrals and even more friendships over the years. That’s what the IWM experience is all about. I look forward to sending Mike some new wines to experience soon, as I will do for anyone else that comes my way. In return, maybe they’ll turn me on to some new things as well. Music? Wine? Dinner with good friends? Catfishing? Isn’t that what life is about?

By the way, I caught a 20-pounder [catfish]—or was it 10?

Given the number of other amazing offerings at VinExpo, we were delighted to sell out all of our Soldera wine dinners (more on these soon). This feat was a sincere compliment from our clients, because we were well aware of how many tempting options were available each night.  Events ranging from private dinners at the Great Wall of China to extravagant Grand Cru tastings set the tone for a lavish and competitive week in the city. By the time our Thursday dinner event arrived, attendees started to look a little bit fatigued. Complaints about the week’s lavish wining and dining might fall on deaf ears, but VinExpo’s three-day sensory overload led by the world’s greatest Type-A personalities is enough to wear out the best of us. Many of our media friends had worked so hard to report on VinExpo from unique angles that it understandably may have been difficult to enjoy even the most casual of events, let alone nightly launch parties. Seriously, the journalists seemed to need Matrix-like speed and endurance to be as many places as they needed to be.

They weren’t alone.

During the week of VinExpo, the legendary China Club hosted private wine functions in nearly every one of its stylish havens each evening—based on my periodic visits to the club throughout the week, I estimate between six to 10 wine dinners per night. When we met at The China Club’s Long March Bar on Thursday night, Sommelier Henry Chang (Hong Kong’s 2007 Best Sommelier Winner) looked like a man who had coordinated scores of intricate wine dinners. From seeing what they do when we host our wine dinners, I know that The China Club’s team provides outstanding service, and I admit that ours can be more demanding in service needs. Henry was the consummate, if incredibly busy, professional.

In meeting contacts ranging from global importers, to airline food and beverage execs, to esteemed producers and négociants, I found that the most common questions were these: What do we do about China? And what do we expect for 2009 Bordeaux En Primeur? I don’t believe anyone in the room truly had the answers, though speculation was rampant and imaginative. I’m sure there were a few exhibitors who’ll find the right answer and will reap major rewards.  So for now I hope we table those questions and get back to what we do so well in Hong Kong—getting to know each other’s interests and forging collaborative relationships.

And, of course, eating and drinking very well while we do it.

Given Brunello’s recent spate of press, I thought it might be a good time to look at this wine a little more closely. Sangiovese Grosso, a superior clone of Sangiovese, produces Brunello di Montalcino, one of Italy’s most lovely and prestigious red wines. The towns of Montalcino enjoy warmer, drier air than other regions of Chianti, and the open, surrounding countryside offers both ideal ventilation and cool nights. And these characteristics allow Brunello, or in English the “little dark one” because of the grape’s brown hue, to fully ripen and produce the wine’s fuller, richer taste.

Brunello has a serendipitous, even scattershot history. Though Ferruccio Biondi-Santi produced the first Brunello vintage in 1888, the wine really had a halting, sporadic start. There were only four vintages—1888, 1891, 1925, and 1945—declared in the first 57 years of production, and by 1960, there were only eleven total producers. So by the time the region had its boom of vineyard restoration in the 1970s and 1980s, the wine’s rarity had led to both higher prices and a veil of mystery and prestige.

But Brunello’s more recent history is what might spark slightly heated discussions around a wine lover’s table. As production has increased over the last few decades, Brunello’s traditional winemaking process has changed quite a bit. Traditionally, and as late as 1989, Brunello had a minimum cask ageing of 42 months, in addition to bottle ageing. But the cask ageing regulations have been almost halved in the last decade and now stand at 24 months. This lower ageing minimum mixed with Brunello’s popularity has fed an increase in the use of barriques (small oak barrels), which results in the more standardized, uniform taste that traditionalists frown upon.

So where does this leave all of us, in terms of selecting a bottle of Brunello? A wine, we should remember, can be modern in its ageing process and still retain its traditional sense of place, or the characteristics it draws from its particular soil and climate. You can take the wine out of Montalcino, but you can’t take the Montalcino out of the wine.

With over 230 Brunello producers today, the region requires that you need to know not only the region, but also the producer. Whatever your preferred style may be, without question you have options, and they’re worth exploring. However, I tend to the traditionalists, so some of my favorite producers still remain unchanged. I’ll try other Brunellos, but my heart will always belong to Biondi-Santi and Soldera.

Festivus, as the saying goes, is the holiday for the rest of us, and it is celebrated today, December 23. Festivus, the anti-holiday, came to cultural consciousness via Seinfeld, the television show famously about nothing. In a Seinfeld episode airing December 18, 1995, Festivus appeared as a holiday celebrated by the Constanza family, taken up by Kramer, and used by George as a front for charity. Given its auspicious birth, Festivus soon spread to the big three-dimensional world beyond the small screen. In reality, however, Festivus began several decades earlier in 1965, when it was created by Dan O’Keefe, the father of one of Seinfeld’s writers. Mr. O’Keefe came up with Festivus as an antidote to the crass commercialism of Christmas (and later Chanukah), and the stark nature of the Festivus traditions continue to speak against the glitz, the glamour, the tinsel and the all-around gooey warm fuzziness of the holidays, engendered by the jiggling of fat men’s bellies, airborne ruminants and never-ending oil.

Like the wise men, the Festivus traditions are three: a metal pole (George Constanza’s dad prefers aluminum because of its “high strength-to-weight ratio”), the airing of grievances, and feats of strength. There’s also a feast, but there’s always a feast; no holiday fit to wear the name “holiday” comes without a feast. Beyond Festivus’ simple triumvirate, the traditions are open to interpretation. The pole may be long or short, set in a base or hung from the ceiling, slim or wide. The feats of strength conventionally are wrestling matches that end only when the host is pinned to the floor, but they too can include almost any act of physical prowess. The airing of grievances typically include the expression of disappointment, but those too can range far and wide like particularly spiteful Monarch butterflies.

You and I may celebrate Festivus very differently—I may like individual potted poles for all my guests, while you may like to plant yours in your backyard like a Spartan cedar—but one question always remains: what libations go best with the Festivus traditions? Christmas has its nog, its wassail and its toddies; Chanukah has its Manischewitz; but what does Festivus have? Every holiday deserves a drink, even one created by a writer on his first date to impress his eventual wife and mother to his children.

To my thinking, nothing complements the simple beauty of an unadorned metal pole like Movia’s Puro. Holidays seem the natural time for sparklers—a bubbly wine is a party in your mouth. Festivus is no exception to this rule, and the operatic opening required of Puro serves as a counterweight to the austerity of the metal pole, plus Puro’s crispness creates a pleasant companion to the aluminum, which I use because I am, above all things, a staunch traditionalist.

Festivus celebrants often reach to a nice single-malt scotch or a beautiful boutique bourbon to accentuate their feats of strength, and for good reason. I have nothing against a lovely Dalwhinnie or a delicious Laphroaig, and I’m delighted to partake of Knob Creek, but let’s talk turkey. If you really want to pin that host and put a fork in Festivus, you might want to consider sipping some serious grappa. I like Poli Grappa Miele because it’s awfully pretty, plenty tasty and wicked strong. It’s artisanal grappa, and as long as you move those delicate little hand-blown grappa glasses out of the living room before the Greco-Roman wrestling begins, you’re good to go.

Some people see the airing of grievances as a serious business, and for those people, I might suggest a somber red along the lines of a Giacosa Barolo or a Soldera Brunello. These are wines for Festivus followers who put great weight in their grievances, bold and contemplative wines, wines that brood with furrowed brows, wines of gravitas, and they are incidentally really, really good. But if you’re someone who likes to put your tongue firmly in your cheek during this portion of Festivus fun, you might enjoy a wine that’s higher on sass and lower on glower, like Giuseppe Quintarelli’s Valpolicella or Movia’s Lunar. It’s up to you how you want to pitch your grievances, and the wine you choose will set the tone for your evening.

There is no specified order to the Festivus celebration. Just as some people open their Christmas presents on Christmas Eve, while others wait until Christmas Day, some Festivus celebrants like to gather around the metal pole, then engage in the FoS, eat the feast and finally air grievances, while others eat first, gather, fight and air later. It’s a matter of personal faith, really, and whatever works best with your loved ones, aka those who have most grievously disappointed you.  It’s a time for sharing, and not caring; a time to gather, and to blather; a time to wrestle, and then maybe to nestle.

Make merry, drink responsibly, love one another and yadda yadda yadda.

Daughter of wine legend Gianfranco Soldera, Monica Soldera has been raised with the heart and soul of Toscana. The Soldera family’s home sits in the middle of the idyllic Case Basse estate in Montalcino, a spot as known for Monica’s father’s Sangiovese Brunello as her mother’s rose garden. After obtaining a degree in Economics, Monica received a Master’s Degree in Communications from Bocconi University and pursued a career in marketing in the food industry until she was lured from Milan back to her family home. These days, Monica and her husband both work at the vineyard, alongside her parents, with her four children nearby. Wine is a family affair, and what a glorious affair it is at Soldera.

1. What one aspect of Italian culture did you witness in NY that made you feel at home?

New York is always fascinating to me! One reason is that I spent part of my honeymoon here many years ago. I always feel at home in New York; I appreciate the hospitality and also the smiles I see on many faces; I feel safe. Of course, I also experienced the signs of the economic difficulties, but at the same time I felt a lot of hope. Everybody seems to do his or her best for getting over the crisis.

2. Where did you eat in New York and what were some of your favorite dishes?

I eat in different restaurants—all of them great restaurants with high level of quality not only in food but also in service. The wines lists were amazing and I drank so many very nice wines. I met sommeliers with high professionalism. I appreciate all the restaurants where I eat, the fact that each of them was different in their style of cooking and the dishes they offer to guests. I also enjoyed the differences in the places, like the different architectural style.

3. What one thing that you can’t fit into your suitcase would you most like to bring home from New York to Toscana?

The smiling faces of the customers tasting our wines!

4. What is your best (or first) memory of Sergio Esposito?

Sergio has always surprised me for his knowledge and passion for fine wines. In addition, he deeply expresses the positive, sweet soul of people from South Italy. Most of all, I appreciate his respect and admiration for my father.

5. What one story from your trip would put a smile on your father’s face?

The congratulations everybody expressed to me for the greatness of the 2002 Soldera Brunello di Montalcino, its finesse and elegance, and its Sangiovese purity.

A few nights ago, Sergio asked me to lead a dinner he was hosting with two of his partners for some very special guests. I was eager to return to my service roots and excited to lend a helping hand. On this evening the store glowed with soft lighting and twinkling red votive candles.  Andrea Bocelli’s Christmas album played in the background, and the smell of Chef Kevin’s cuisine lingered in the air. I greeted our guests with a glass of Salon 1997, an unrivaled Blanc de Blancs with a pale gold hue, subtle apple fruit, racy minerality and an elegant finish. It complemented the beautiful antipasti: a selection of regional Italian cheeses, an assortment of marinated vegetables, cured salumi and our fresh crudo.  I could see our guests beginning to unwind as the Salon began to take effect.

The conversation became more spirited, postures more relaxed and smiles surrounded the table. Lobster was served next, paired with Gravner Breg Anfora 2002 and Montevertine Le Pergole Torte 2004. The organic nature of the brilliantly crafted Gravner was a classic complement to the dish. Its silky tannins mirroring the delicate texture of the lobster, the Torte showed how a soft red can provide a perfect match to seafood. After the lobster, we delighted our new friends by presenting pappardelle pasta with braised duck paired with Poggio di Sotto Brunello di Montalcino 2004 and Talenti Brunello Riserva Vigna Paretaio 1999. I had decanted the Talenti two hours before the dinner to allow the wine to open, and it was delicious. I could see our guests were reveling in their experience. They had been seduced by the lobster pairing, and the pasta course established trust between us.  The anxiety from the frenzied New York pace was dissipating.

The meal’s crescendo arrived accompanied by dramatic flair—Gianfranco Soldera’s Case Basse di Soldera Brunello di Montalcino 1993 and Case Basse di Soldera Brunello di Montalcino Riserva 1983. The wines were simply majestic. If ever there was a wine that was like a cathedral song, it would be Soldera’s remarkable Brunellos. A festival of grilled meats was served family style to accompany these gorgeous wines. The 1993 was still showing concentrated dark red fruits and firm tannins, while the 1983 had evolved into perfect balance. The guests were delighted; we had exceeded their expectations. They were ready to ease into dessert.

We did not end our meal with a gentle expression; rather, we finished the culinary experience with a kaleidoscope of flavor. We turned to the Master of the Veneto, Giuseppe Quintarelli and his 1986 Recioto della Valpollicella, a wine whose sweet, black fruit nectar is framed by violets and tar, and whose finish is elegant and long. The wine was matched by Dolce Gorgonzola a sweet, creamy, dense blue cheese. It served as the canvas to the wine’s purple fruit. The meal’s finishing touch came from Jacques Selosse Exquise.  Crafted for Alain Ducasse as a dessert Champagne, the wine shows a bit of sweetness in the front of the palate but finishes with Selosse’s signature expression of elegant minerality.

The guests were impressed. As they put their coats on they hugged Sergio and thanked him for another supreme effort. Sergio profusely and sincerely thanked them for the opportunity to share his passion. I watched, and witnessed more than the natural end of a perfect meal. I saw that Italian Wine Merchants is not merely a business that Sergio created; it’s the embodiment of all he holds sacred.

However, it wasn’t the idea of 2006 Sassicaia showing signs of ‘85 glory that has left a lasting impression on me; in fact, it is quite the opposite. Earlier in the week Piero Incisa della Rocchetta and Monica Soldera joined Sergio Esposito along with twenty guests for a special evening of wines featuring Bodega Chacra, Sassicaia and Soldera Brunello di Montalcino Riserva.  For me, this line-up is as thrilling as a concert of Dylan and The Dead.  With 1982 (Sassicaia) and 1990 (Soldera Riserva) joining this unprecedented offering of Italian winemaking royalty, it would be difficult for any bottle to outshine these monuments to Italian wine.  And to no surprise the vintage bottle of Sassicaia drew raving comparisons to Mouton-Rothschild from some guests, while others were left speechless by Soldera’s wines of meditation.

But as the week came to a close, it wasn’t the 2006 Sassicaia auction lot or the historic 1982 that stuck with me; it was the Sassicaia and Soldera media sleepers of 2002 that were placed on the table beside the 1982 and 1990 vintage gems a few nights back.  Piero claims that the wines of this vintage were “a victim of the bastardization by the media,” and to miss these wines because the critics dismissed the 2002 vintage as a whole would be a serious injustice.  In fact, the 2002 Sassicaia in many ways is more representative of the house style that defines Tenuta San Guido, as opposed to the rich and concentrated version Mother Nature provided the media obsessed in 1985.  Sassicaia 2002 provides finesse and accessibility. I have to ask, why crack into the age-ability of 1999, 2001, 2004, or 2005, when 2002 is this good now?

No reason, really. It’s a Sassicaia celebration.