new discoveries in sardinia and sicily

antipasto and negroni for lunch in calgiari

What is the best part of working on a ship? Getting off the ship! After two and a half months on board, I feel more like a robot and less like a lady. Wake up, walk the 3 minutes to work, pick up the day's wines from the provisions area, prepare the lunch wines, prepare the dinner wines, eat, manage lunch wine service, sleep, run like a mad chicken pouring wine at dinner and try to sell high-end bottles, eat, drink, sleep, repeat. Without a shift off, your world becomes about work as you live with your coworkers and guess what the most popular topic of conversation is- work! So for me, getting of the ship is necessary, it's what keeps me sane, inspired, interested, and willing to continue on this adventure, particularly when we are visiting places with such beautiful food and wine traditions like Sicily and Sardinia. 

A few days ago I spent part of the afternoon in Calgiari, Sardinia. Afternoons in Sardinia are sleepy, as most shops close from around noon until four. As one local explained to me in a small, crammed gift shop, "We Sardinian people are lazy. When it is hot, we close everything." Understandable. I used to cherish my siesta hours in Mendoza, resting up for what would inevitably be a hectic, sweaty dinner service. Luckily a few Sardinian bars and cafes were open, however, and so I wandered into the tiniest, oldest looking bar I could find (see photo above) to have my first Mirto experience.

  

A traditional liqueur of Sardinia, Mirto is made exactly like limoncello, but using the local Myrtle berry.  About the size and color of a blueberry, the Myrtle berry is apparently extremely difficult to find in the U.S. but grows rampant in the hot climates of Sardinia and Corsica.  Sardinians macerate the bluish-red berry in neutral spirit for several weeks, press and remove the berries, then sweeten the drink with sugar or honey, at water to reduce the percentage of alcohol, and finally filter and bottle. What results is a delicious digestivo with sweet red berry and herbaceous aromas.  Served icy cold, Mirto is full on the palate without being too syrupy, with spiced dried plum and cherry notes and a slightly bitter finish. I could also see this being an excellent substitute for cassis in a Kir Royale. Like grappa or limoncello in other parts of Italy, Mirto is almost always offered complimentary at the end of the meal in Sardinian restaurants. According to my local friend, Mirto is what sends the people to their beds for the afternoon nap after lunch. I can see why. It seems as though it's very difficult to find Mirto in the states, so I'll definitely be devising a plan to smuggle a bottle back home with me in the fall. 

swordfish for sale in syracusa, sicily

 Sicily is ripe with it's own set of culinary pleasures.  Fresh octopus, swordfish, and prawns are on every restaurant menu, often cooked to perfection. Hot and dry, with plenty of seafood, this region is the perfect place to make and consume crisp, fresh white wines. So why doesn't anybody know about Sicilan whites? Nero d'Avola is taking off in the states as a fantastically cheap, full-bodied every day red, but rarely do you find other varietals and styles on wine lists and only in the more savvy retail shops.  Thanks to this adventure at sea, I've recently reconnected with a Sicilian white wine that I was impressed with the first time I tried it about two years ago- Grillo. Traditionally used in the production of Marsala, Grillo is now emerging under it's own identity in the form of a full, yet citrus-laced and refreshing white. Lately in the dining room, we've been pouring the lovely Fileno Grillo, which has been received very well by our very- let's just say "particular" guests.

One can almost liken this wine to an unoaked chardonnay, with all of the ripe pear, green apple, and lemon rind notes, however the fileno shows a hint of jasmine blossom on the nose and some impressive minerality. Full and lively on the palate, with ample acidity and a long, fruit-filled finish, this white is the perfect companion for grilled seafood on a sunny, summer day. I know that you can find grillo for less than $10 in the states if you check your wine shops and better grocery stores. I've yet to taste a high-end version or any grillo that has oak, but I am on the lookout for these.  In the meantime, it's always nice to find something new and tasty that doesn't break the bank for summertime quaffing.  

I'll leave you with something distinct and possibly disturbing but still wine-oriented and therefore fun. Wandering around in Valleta, Malta, yesterday, my friend and I came across a new concept for packaging wine that we may want to adopt in the states, particularly in college towns, state fairs, and neighborhoods where public drinking is legal...

 What we have here is individually packaged plastic cups full of wine that claims to come from the U.S.- Zinfandel, to be exact.  The price is 1.90 Euro. I was intrigued, delighted, and horrified all at once. It took me about five minutes going back and forth as to whether I should buy it and drink it on the street. In the end, the chilly, lemon-flavored local beer won out but I still wonder about this ghetto wine concept and how it might take hold at various festivals in Seattle- thinking Folklife, Bumbershoot, and concerts at the Gorge.  Next time I see one, I'm tasting it, god help me.  For now, I'll sip Martini Bianco in Sicily and pretend I don't have to be back on the ship in twenty minutes. Ah, ship life.

tutto bene

ship life is ship life. it's like an alternate reality where things that would normally never take place on land are commonplace. it's adjusting to a different sleeping schedule, new food, new chain of command, and a whole set of "ship rules" that never existed on land.  for the sommelier, it means knowing when to approach the table with the wine list and when to just happy grab the bottle of cheap complimentary wine and make sure the glass never gets empty.  and cleaning. and cleaning. and inventory. and cleaning. before accepting any job on a cruise line, one should be aware of a little thing called "usph cleaning". certain ports require ships to undergo a public health inspection upon docking. what this means for the crew is an extra two hours of sanitizing and scrubbing at the end of the evening. so it's late, you've been running for eleven hours, you think that you are heading back to your blissfully cool cabin to submit to slumber when you hear someone say that it's usph cleaning tonight. damn.

in the meantime we're stopping in some of the most amazing ports- Istanbul, Santorini, Venice, and Dubrovnik.  the photo above is from a glorious morning off in Corfu, Greece . the bottle of retsina cost 1.5 euro and only vaguely tasted of floor cleaner. one bag of fresh cherries, a beach, and a dip the refreshing Ionian Sea. now this makes the long hours and fussy management worth it. the ship is always there in the distance, reminding us of our duty, but for just a few hours on land we can pretend like we are carefree tourists on vacation.

this week, as we sail from venice to montecarlo, stopping in italian, sicilian, and corsican ports along the way, the ship is nearly full, with almost 540 passengers. we sommeliers are running for wine every night. a food and wine group comprised of americans, mostly texans, keeps us busy as bottles of joseph phelps insignia, cardinal, domaine drouhin, and shafer's hillside select fly out of the cellar. plus we have a winemaker and guest chef on board to keep things interesting. 

as the job becomes easier every day, the expectations become higher. i am still adjusting to a somewhat militaristic chain of command and trying not to be too much of the outspoken american girl that seems to put some people so much on edge. i still struggle every day to not be interrupted, shot down, ignored, talked down to or sabotaged and it does become exhausting after awhile. i must work twice as hard and show twice as much dedication as my male counterparts to be taken seriously. certain standards for equality that we can expect in the states are non-existent in this country that we call ship life. this is perhaps my biggest challenge in this adventure. i see my female paisanos going through the same thing in their departments and i know this experience is only going to make us stronger and more competitive on land. but in the moment sometimes i just want to smash things. :)

headed to sorrento tomorrow to re-sample the limoncello and buy some cheap laundry detergent- it's good to know where you can take care of boring domestic stuff- then on to bonifacio, corsica, and finally monte carlo, home of the best-dressed dogs on earth. look forward to posts on local wines and port highlights. and remember to only drink the good stuff.. . life is too short for bad wine. 

in the meantime, i'll leave you with this... one of the most expensive bottles ever out of Australia, presented by - no big surprise- the legendary Penfolds. the bottle of 2004 Kalimna Block 42 Cabernet is encased in a hand-blown glass ampoule, suspended within a wooden cabinet. you can buy it for $168,000 but if you want to drink it, Penfolds has to fly a senior winemaker out to your home to open that device. now that's class. i suggested we get one for the ship and my head sommelier looked at me like i was crazy. 

full story here. enjoy!