Ugo Lequio Cantina, Neive

"Baarbaaareeesssscoooo!"

Ugo Leqiuo made us say it with him, because he's convinced the name is too complicated for most Americans to spit out. Barolo just rolls off the tongue, he says, and if only Barbaresco was as easy to say, he might have better distribution in the 'states.

Ugo Leqiuo is quite a character.

He's also animated, charming, forthright, kind and quite a good winemaker. In his small, modern cantina in the middle of Nieve, we quickly realized how hard and how smart Ugo worked to get his wines out into the bellies of the people. To the right is a Slovenian oak barrel made with faulty wood -- he's getting a new one, but it's still a problem. Then we have his trusty old bottling press and big pump he uses to clean the tanks.

The highlight of the tasting was the Barbaresco vertical we tried at the end -- a 2007, 2006, 2005, 2003 and a 1999 Riserva, all from the the same three hectare plot. What an incredible way to end the day.

The name of these crackers translates to "Mother-in-law's Tongue". They were mild, delicious and poorly named.

L'Osteria Del Vignailo, Barolo

What follows is gratuitous food porn. If that runs against your moral sensibilities, go heat up a microwave burrito.

That's the view from our table, our bread basket, and the amuse bouche -- a beggar's purse stuffed with a blend of ricotta and gorgonzola.

Fried zucchini flower stuffed with ricotta, shredded asparagus and herbs.

Shaved artichoke crisped in brown butter over seared scallops.

Fresh asparagus blanched and grilled, over some sort of creamy deliciousness and topped with hard cheese.

Duck confit.

Lamb chops.

Molten chocolate cake.

If you are ever near Barolo, go to L'Osteria Del Vignailo.

Poderi e Cantine Oddero, Barolo

Our first day in Piemonte was absolutely lovely. We got up, had breakfast, jumped in the car and headed to Oddero, an historic Barolo producer.

The entrance to the cellar, built in 1870, was packed with detritus from throughout their history. The plates represent the most important festivals in the region, the middle pic shows an old pump and the far right shows some tools that were probably used in winemaking. Or proctology.

The main room of the cantina (cellar) was packed with Austrian-made Slovenian Oak barrels, which impart far less toasty/vanilla flavor than French oak and are used very frequently in the Langhe hills, of which Barolo is the most famous subregion. The dark barrels in the back of the third picture are particularly noteworthy -- they were constructed in the cellar and, at 105 hectaliters, are so big that they'd have to be broken into pieces to be removed.

Quick Barolo primer: Barolo is a wine region AND a wine, which is made from the Nebbiolo grape, and is among the most famous (and expensive) wines in Italy. Barolo must age at least two years in oak and one year in the bottle. Though there are plenty of people outside of Barolo that make delicious Nebbiolos, the across-the-board quality of Barolos put them in a class by themselves.

These are the sort of things that the Italian Wine Association is going to explain to people. We won't always be able to drink Barolos, but when we do they're gonna be great ones.

Oddero grows most of their grapes on the cantina grounds, but some of the vineyards are as far as 30KM away. The sign shown here is on a tank containing a Barolo made from grapes from only one vineyard -- Vigna Ronda. Some of it will be bottled as a Vigna Rionda Single Vineyard Barolo and some of it will be used as part of a blend.

We tasted four of their wines, starting with a 2008 Barbera d'Alba, then headed right into the 2006 Barolos. The first Barolo was a blend, the second was from their Villero vineyard and the third from Bussia Soprano, the Oddero-owned section of the giant Vigna Mondoca vineyard. Single vineyard wines are a relatively new phenomenon in Italy, and both of them were unique and wonderful.

10% of each of these Barolos were aged in barriques -- small french oak barrels -- for six months, then blended with the other 90% waiting in the giant Slovenian oak barrels. This adds a little bit of toasty vanilla flavor, and makes the wine softer, gentler and rounder. Traditional Barolos are very harsh and tannic, undrinkable for the first several years of it's life, and using barriques mitigates this somewhat. The practice is the subject of debate.

The corkscrew was a powerhouse as well-- it looked like a tommy gun and handled the extra-long Barolo corks with ease. Take notes, Santa.

Vinitaly!

We just finished the first leg of our trip to Italy, and I figured it was a good time to let people know what we've been doing. Ellen and I left Dulles late on Wednesday night, where we made the really, really solid decision to upgrade to "economy plus" for $48 a person, giving each of us our own row to stretch out in. I woke up on the way down to Frankfurt, and from there we flew right to Verona, where they host Vinitaly.

Vinitaly (pronounced "Veeneeeeeetalee" not "Vin Italy") is the biggest Italian wine tradeshow in the world. It ran Thursday-Monday, and over 40,000 producers, importers, retailers, sommerliers and wine-happy consumers attended. It was the biggest non-outdoor-concert event I've ever attended. The masses were teeming, Well, it wasn't Obama's inauguration either, but you know what I'm saying. Lots of people.

We got into Verona late in the day, so we didn't make it over to the fairgrounds on Thursday. Instead, we went to a winebar with 30+ Italian varietals served by the glass -- if we hadn't been falling over from the travel day, Ellen might have spent all night there. This place afforded me a chance to try the Veronese classic "Pasttisada de Cheval", a thick, rich horse stew. It was horrible.

The next morning we ripped ourselves out of bed, jammed down the pastry-and-amazing-cappucino that is the Italian breakfast, and jumped on a shuttle to Vinitaly. Ellen got her press credentials (maybe I can drum some up next year) and we descended into the anarchy.

Actually, the first thing we did was a "Pinot Grigio of the World' tasting, which was fantastic and taught me a lot about the chemistry of wine and how very different wines can come from the same grape. Sure, it depends on the soil and the weather and the winemaking, but this was my introduction to the world of esthers, keytones and engineered yeasts. It also started 35 minutes late, which taught me a lot about how the next three days were gonna go. See below for a pic of the tasting hall five minutes after the scheduled start.

We spent those days drinking wines, too many to count, too many even to remember, though the pages and pages of scribbled tastings notes will certainly help.

There were over 4000 producers pouring wines, everything from their flagship products to the experiments that didn't quite work out. Plus, the smallest producers were represented by their local chambers of commerce or growers association. Each region had an airplane hanger-sized tasting hall, packed with stalls.

Highlights included a vast array of sparkling whites served from what felt like the inside of a double-wide, Marabino's 100% Nero D'avalo wines from the very tip of Sicily, the unique (and relatively unknown) Gran Masetto Teraldagos

from Endrizzi (they're way up north) and a jaw-dropping "Best Italian Wines of 2011" tasting put on by the Wine Enthusiast.

Surprisingly, we also enjoyed an Australian wine tasting that featured the best small-production Australian Shirazes I've ever had. Some of these wines are $15 or $20 a bottle, they are absolutely staggeringly delicious at the price, and you can order them directly from the vineyards. Do with this information what you will.

The one Italian beer we tried was not so tasty. I mean, it wasn't horse or anything, but it just wasn't that delicious.

The trip, so far, has also reinforced the Italian Wine Association's strong business prospects. There are so many producers of Italian wine desperate to export, but hamstrung by a lack of sophistication and a deep fear that their products will be sold without a suitable amount of dignity. One producer, in an attitude we heard echoed all over the show, said that if his distributor ever sold his wines in a supermarket or in some other mass-production-type way, he'd take away his wines and turn his back on him. They don't want to be treated like table wine, and I think we can handle that.

Everyone also really attached to the mission of educating the American consumer about Italian wines, to the point that we might get some support from places like the Italian-American Chamber of Commerce or the Italian Wine Producers Association. That would be nice.

There were other highlights -- the pizza from Pizza Bella di Napoli, Ellen at the Italian Women of Wine dinner, drinking an Aperol Spritz at a cafe on a piazza -- and it's been a wonderful five days.

Now, we've driven to Piedmonte and are staying right in the middle of Alba for the next six days. We've got two winery appointments a day, and I'm pretty sure it's going to be awesome.

Alex