To Italy and Home Again In About Two Hours
Though we didn’t really travel to Italy last Wednesday night, mentally and sensually we were traipsing through the volcanic ash-enriched vines of Taburno and tasting the dark, rich cherries of Puglia as they burst in our mouths, all while attending an Italian Wine Class hosted by the Wilmington Wine Shoppe.
Thanks to local sommelier and soon-to-be master Liz Cooper, from Country Vintner, I now have a pretty good feel for the history, landscape and esoterica of Italian wines from various regions, but especially wines produced in the southern area, near the heel of the boot.


The “tour” began in Veneto with a taste of prosecco (wikipedia), a delicate sparkling wine with a fresh aroma and flavors of green apple and honeysuckle. With the first sip I knew I was getting my $15 worth for the class. While everybody was settling I wandered back to The Wine Shoppe’s newly designed art room to grab a bite from Chelsea’s catered buffet (map. When I returned to my table Cooper was explaining the difference between champagne and prosecco. First of all, as many people know, sparkling wine can only be called champagne if it is in fact made in Champagne, France, using grapes from that region. Prosecco achieves its delicate sparkle through fermentation in a tank rather than in individual bottles, as champagne does. The tank fermentation produces fewer bubbles, which means you get more of a taste of wine in your mouth than that sometimes overwhelming fizz of champagne. Also, the shorter tank fermentation preserves the freshness of the grapes, making prosecco wonderful to drink alone as an aperitif, or served with light fare.
We moved next to the non-fizzing white wines, beginning with Taburno Falanghina, which is produced near Mt. Vesuvius in Campania. There is an interesting legend about Lacryma Christi that accompanies wines grown in this region. It goes something like this: When the archangel Lucifer fell from heaven he took with him a handful of paradise. Every time Jesus looked down and saw that broken piece of paradise he shed a tear, and in that place grew a vine. I don’t know what to make of the legend, but the Falanghina was delicious, a flowery aroma followed by an earthy honey-almond flavor that tastes wonderful when paired with seafood.

We followed the whites with some soft fruit-forward reds. Everybody at the table loved the velvety San Marzano Negroamaro Puglia Red, with its dark cherry flavor melting on our tongues. Primitivo, the grape grown predominantly in Puglia, originated in Greece and gets its name from the tendency of the vine to bear its fruit early. Wines grown in this warm climate tend to have a very juicy fruit flavor, which was apparent in Negroamaro. Despite its fruitiness, or perhaps because of it, Cooper suggests pairing this wine with roasted red meats, pastas flavored with spicy cheeses, and last but certainly not least, with pizza.
The last wine of the evening was my personal favorite. Taburno Fidelis, made from the grapes of ancient Greek imported vines, is sometimes referred to as the king of wines because at one time it was reserved for emperors and people of the upper class (no wonder I liked it). With its bold ruby red color, herbal aroma and spicy fruit taste, I can see why this pleasingly complex wine might be called king.
Toward the end of the evening Paul D’Angelo, owner of the Wine Shoppe, was walking around to each table and pouring second tastes of people’s favorites from the six we sampled, making sure we all had plenty to eat. Some of us bought glasses of wine and stuck around to talk to Cooper and the other students in the class. I think everyone bought at least one bottle of wine as a souvenir.
Speaking of bringing wine home, all wines from the class can be purchased at the Wilmington Wine Shoppe. Here is the list of the wines we tasted and their prices:
- Rustico Nino Franco Prosecco $14.99
- Taburno Falanghina $17.99
- Vesevo Greco Di Tufo $18.99
- San Marzano Negroamaro Puglia $11.99
- San Marzano Malvasia Nera $12.99
- Taburno Fidelis $17.99

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I think you might mean “Lacrima Christi.” “La crima” has no meaning in Italian, and in Spanish it would mean the crime. Without the space, it would indeed mean tear,
That image was kind of jarring, but I guess in context …. at first I thought it was a really overwrought Easter moment.
;-]
In any event, it sounds like a wonderful time was had by all!
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Or “Lacryma Christi”, with a “y”.
Edited.
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That sounds even better. I was having a hard time reconciling the A and I endings of the noun and adjective, but if it’s Latin then I won’t object any further!
Happy new week.
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