It’s custom in both Italy and England to wait to announce a pregnancy until after the first trimester. This isn’t some weird cultural quirk, it’s in case you have a miscarriage which is reasonably common in the early weeks. However, people in Italy seem to take this social rule far more seriously than we do in the UK and if you announce your happy news too early it can be met with uncomfortable and embarrassed silences.
I’m the type of person who blurts these things out the minute I know, to whoever will listen – friends, family, neighbours, shopkeepers and complete strangers. My reasoning is that if I did lose the baby I would want people to know why I was so unhappy. I guess it makes a big difference if you or your family have a history of miscarriages.
In England my reasoning seems the norm these days, most friends confide as soon as they know but normally under the veil of secrecy so that these days no pregnancy is ever officially announced; the news circulates the grapevine until everyone knows but nobody is sure they should.
Yet despite my attitude in real life, I somehow didn’t want to announce my pregnancy on this blog until I was over the first hurdle. So there it is, baby number 2 is officially due mid March.
Tuesday, 30 September 2008
Monday, 22 September 2008
Fermenting must
You can see the grape must finally fermenting in this short movie, bubbling away like a witch's brew.
Monday, 15 September 2008
Fermentation problems
The wine is not doing what it is supposed to do. As planned, Antonio came round last Friday afternoon with all the equipment. We started picking the grapes that evening and were finished by mid-morning on Saturday.
Before lunch we were ready to put the grapes through a scrunching machine (you can tell how technical I am!) We crushed them into the massive plastic vat that we have put on a couple of pallets behind our house, under the olive trees. Darren was under instruction to give it a good stir every couple of hours with an old gnarly stick that is obviously employed every year for this purpose.
Just a few hours after we had cleaned up and covered the vat with a plastic sheet, the heavens opened. Rain had been predicted so everyone in the area was doing their harvest at the same time. When it rains here it really pours and we witnessed a fantastic storm.
Antonio came back later in the after and was surprised to see that the mixture, or must, as it is correctly called, wasn’t beginning to ferment. He got me to find an old blanket to cover the vat to keep it warm to help the process along.
Still no fermentation all of yesterday and no sign today. We are waiting on this process to take place before we can press. He checked the sugar content this afternoon but assured us that wasn’t the problem as it was nice and high.
He called us again earlier to see how things were going (no change) and say his mum remembered this happening another year when it rained straight after the harvest. That year it apparently took four days to start fermenting, a lot longer than the 16 -24 hours it recommends in my Californian home wine making manual. We're losing faith that it will ever happen. I’ll keep you posted.
Before lunch we were ready to put the grapes through a scrunching machine (you can tell how technical I am!) We crushed them into the massive plastic vat that we have put on a couple of pallets behind our house, under the olive trees. Darren was under instruction to give it a good stir every couple of hours with an old gnarly stick that is obviously employed every year for this purpose.
Just a few hours after we had cleaned up and covered the vat with a plastic sheet, the heavens opened. Rain had been predicted so everyone in the area was doing their harvest at the same time. When it rains here it really pours and we witnessed a fantastic storm.
Antonio came back later in the after and was surprised to see that the mixture, or must, as it is correctly called, wasn’t beginning to ferment. He got me to find an old blanket to cover the vat to keep it warm to help the process along.
Still no fermentation all of yesterday and no sign today. We are waiting on this process to take place before we can press. He checked the sugar content this afternoon but assured us that wasn’t the problem as it was nice and high.
He called us again earlier to see how things were going (no change) and say his mum remembered this happening another year when it rained straight after the harvest. That year it apparently took four days to start fermenting, a lot longer than the 16 -24 hours it recommends in my Californian home wine making manual. We're losing faith that it will ever happen. I’ll keep you posted.
Tuesday, 9 September 2008
Fresh pasta
We were treated to this delicious homemade pasta for Sunday lunch at Antonio's house. It was served with a rabbit and tomato sugo. Absolutely everything in the dish was produced by Antonio and his family, the durum wheat and oil to make the pasta, the tomatoes and even the rabbit!
Sunday, 7 September 2008
Grape harvest
We’ve set a date for the grape harvest – next weekend. It’s good timing really as we’ll have Darren’s dad here to help out, plus we are going to put our grapes together with another family’s – English friends (our first clients) just a few fields away who are also staying at their house at the moment.
Antonio tractor man is not only going to instruct us on the millennia old technique or picking and pressing grapes – he is also lend us all the necessary equipment. Where on earth would we be without him?
I was quite down about the grapes a few months ago, as I mentioned in a previous post. They didn’t seem to be growing well back then but now our vineyard is full of heavy bunches of inky purple, pearly grapes. It’s true that some bunches have shriveled up in parts but I don’t think that matters a great deal to make the quality of wine that we are going for.
I have no idea the quantity wine we will make. Part of me hopes we won’t get that much, what would we do with it? It’s not the type of wine that lasts a long time. We do have a subterranean wine cellar in our apartment in the historic centre of Matino, so if we do get a lot we could as well store it there.
I would really like to get some back to London where I’m sure we could easily find willing homes. The problem is getting it there. Antonio explained that wine is difficult to transport, unlike olive oil. He said that in order for it to travel well we would need to add a lot of preservatives which is off putting.
Our neighbours, Crisitna’s family, harvested their grapes today. I heard them chatting in their vines behind our house while I was putting out the washing this morning. When I asked her sister, Tina, how it went she complained that it wasn’t the vendemmia, or cutting of the grapes, that was difficult and time consuming, it was all the work that precedes it.
Antonio is pretty negative about the whole process, too. He said there is a local expression was that you needed to tend the vnes all year was a ‘uomo morto’, a dead man. I guess that means someone with nothing else to do, but I’m not 100% sure.
Antonio tractor man is not only going to instruct us on the millennia old technique or picking and pressing grapes – he is also lend us all the necessary equipment. Where on earth would we be without him?
I was quite down about the grapes a few months ago, as I mentioned in a previous post. They didn’t seem to be growing well back then but now our vineyard is full of heavy bunches of inky purple, pearly grapes. It’s true that some bunches have shriveled up in parts but I don’t think that matters a great deal to make the quality of wine that we are going for.
I have no idea the quantity wine we will make. Part of me hopes we won’t get that much, what would we do with it? It’s not the type of wine that lasts a long time. We do have a subterranean wine cellar in our apartment in the historic centre of Matino, so if we do get a lot we could as well store it there.
I would really like to get some back to London where I’m sure we could easily find willing homes. The problem is getting it there. Antonio explained that wine is difficult to transport, unlike olive oil. He said that in order for it to travel well we would need to add a lot of preservatives which is off putting.
Our neighbours, Crisitna’s family, harvested their grapes today. I heard them chatting in their vines behind our house while I was putting out the washing this morning. When I asked her sister, Tina, how it went she complained that it wasn’t the vendemmia, or cutting of the grapes, that was difficult and time consuming, it was all the work that precedes it.
Antonio is pretty negative about the whole process, too. He said there is a local expression was that you needed to tend the vnes all year was a ‘uomo morto’, a dead man. I guess that means someone with nothing else to do, but I’m not 100% sure.
Friday, 5 September 2008
Tuesday, 2 September 2008
Autumn in the air
Autumn is in the air. It’s still unbearably hot in the sun during the day, the ceiling fans are still whirring over head, but the seasons are undeniably changing.
There’s the constant smell of smoke that pervades the countryside at this time of year, as the contadini prepare the olive groves for the upcoming harvest. The grapes are dark and heavy on the vines and getting sweeter and more concentrated each day to ensure the primitivo wine will be dark red and alcoholic. All around leaves are beginning to turn brown and fall - fig trees that were so recently lush and green and laden with fruit will soon become barren.
Growing up in England, I never really liked autumn. It was the sad season, which although could be quite pleasant in itself was always overshadowed by the endless winter months ahead.
Yet here in southern Italy, autumn brings a relief from another hot, dry summer. Not a drop of rain has fallen on our house since the middle of May. This afternoon a large, rumbling rain cloud loomed in the background and seemed to be coming our way but while they enjoyed the first heavy rain for months only 2km away, we were left parched as ever.
At this time of year, while I look forward to snuggling up under warm covers at night, and tucking into warming broths and stews, it’s easy to forget how lovely summer is. Sunshine and swimming are so good for the body and soul and the long, lazy days allow for late, lively nights.
I guess it all goes to show that I am happiest living somewhere with seasons, too much of any type of weather gets boring after a while. And right now we are all praying for rain to officially mark the coming of autumn.
There’s the constant smell of smoke that pervades the countryside at this time of year, as the contadini prepare the olive groves for the upcoming harvest. The grapes are dark and heavy on the vines and getting sweeter and more concentrated each day to ensure the primitivo wine will be dark red and alcoholic. All around leaves are beginning to turn brown and fall - fig trees that were so recently lush and green and laden with fruit will soon become barren.
Growing up in England, I never really liked autumn. It was the sad season, which although could be quite pleasant in itself was always overshadowed by the endless winter months ahead.
Yet here in southern Italy, autumn brings a relief from another hot, dry summer. Not a drop of rain has fallen on our house since the middle of May. This afternoon a large, rumbling rain cloud loomed in the background and seemed to be coming our way but while they enjoyed the first heavy rain for months only 2km away, we were left parched as ever.
At this time of year, while I look forward to snuggling up under warm covers at night, and tucking into warming broths and stews, it’s easy to forget how lovely summer is. Sunshine and swimming are so good for the body and soul and the long, lazy days allow for late, lively nights.
I guess it all goes to show that I am happiest living somewhere with seasons, too much of any type of weather gets boring after a while. And right now we are all praying for rain to officially mark the coming of autumn.
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