The witching hour

This has been a bad week to build up to a big Thursday night grappa fest. My son has decided that 5am is a good time to start talking to us through the intercom. This is endearing for about 30 seconds and then soul-destroying. Maybe grappa fume breath is the only solution?

A team of 11 good men (and Martino, hee hee) will be gathering to celebrate the Giovedi club over a hearty steak and a few glasses of red wine. I know there will come a point in the night when I should switch to softer beverages and head to the hills. Will I learn the lesson at last? Unlikely, I would imagine. But then my little five o'clock alarm will sound...

Return of the boys

The anticipation is building for another big reunion Thursday night next week. A lot of my old grappa drinking partners have pledged their attendance which raises the question. Should I try to get the Friday off work?

On the one hand, it would be nice to have a lie in. On the other, I have two young children who make it virtually impossible. Also, I have survived plenty of Friday's in dodgy condition before so why not just work this one?

Oh decisions, decisions!

A new brew

It is always nice to see my old father return from Italy and even better when he carries with him a shiny new bottle of the good stuff. In truth, it is pretty rare that he lets me down on that front.

So, imagine my pleasure when he furnished me with a nice bottle of Torba Rossa made - so the bottle tells me - with smoked red grape stems.

Now, in many ways the imbibing experience is unlike drinking grappa at all. The colour is a pretty intense amber and the smell almost akin to a malt whisky. Even the taste is much lighter than a hardened acquavita fan would be used to.

Indeed, in some ways this looks like one of those "designer grappas" intended to make you part with a lot of money for what ought to be a good old-fashioned mountain man/woman's brew. The packaging is similar to the long, cardboard tubes which the finest whisky comes in. So the whole experience leans on the pretentious side.

Nonetheless, I had no problem sampling my first "dram" at the weekend. Yes, it is more refined than some may like and carries an almost delicate perfume. But, if it takes grappa to a wider audience I am not going to speak out against it. It also prompted me to tidy up my drinks cupboard which led to the discovery of a tiny amount of long-forgotten Grappa Moscato. So that takes my "collection" to three bottles!

Overall, it won't rip your throat out or burn what remains of your windpipe but it is a pleasant after dinner drink - especially if you don't want to feel its aftermath for a few days to come.

Rating: 71%.

Scotland Italy partnership

I celebrated Burns Night at my brother's on Thursday. It is a night when Scots traditionally have a Scottish dish (typically haggis) but I also have a duty on a Thursday to keep the spirit of the Giovedi alive. See Ginkers post "Say it aint so Giovedi" for the problems he is facing in that regard at the moment.

For this reason, even if I'm not going out on a Thursday, I like to have a plate of pasta, a glass (or two) of wine and finish the evening with a grappa. So what to do when tradition and duty clash? Fortunately my sister-in-law, who is the finest cook I know, came to the rescue. I supplied an excellent bottle of red which was accompanied by a fine dish of haggis lasagne.

And it was absolutely delicious.

Oh and of course I sneaked in a grappa before going to bed.

That's more like it

After my despair of last week it is only fair to post better news. My father is back from Tuscany and promises me he has a bottle of grappa which he secreted in his case for me. The anticipation, as always, is great.

I don't know if I mentioned this before but I have decided to escalate my grappa passion by endeavouring to collect as many bottles as I can. It is my ambition to invite friends round, have a good meal and then, with coffee, offer a variety of my favourite tipple. "Morbida, secca o fatta-in-casa-dio-mio-quanto-brucia?" will be available to all.

People are proud of their malt whisky bottles, I want a little mini-bar area full of grappa. OK, I'm starting small, I now have two bottles in the house. And a visit from Martino is imminent. The omens don't look that good for building the collection, do they?

Say it ain't so, Giovedi!

Anyone who has ever met me or cast a weary eye over this blog will know that Thursday is a special day for me. For the past 20 years or so it has been the traditional meeting night of the Giovedi Club. An institution of dishevelled, disgraceful and dissolute fellows which meets once a week to eat pasta and steak and drink red wine and grappa.

Over the years the dedication of its members has become legendary. People have rearranged holidays, travelled through six foot snow drifts and generally overcome all sorts of obstacles to make a "meeting". Nowadays, however, it seems that things have changed - for the worse.

How's this for a list of excuses? One is on holiday (reasonable but badly planned), one has been ordered by his mother to go to her house for dinner (feeble), one is worried about his waistline (astonishing) and another is packing a case for a trip on Saturday (disgraceful). I'm not even going to start on the people who come along and "really can't manage such a big plate of pasta!".

Has the lure of the grappa become so weak? Is my company really so bad (possible, but not to be seriously contemplated)? Or, as I suspect, has our new recruitment drive brought in some thoroughly soft members?

The club would never have started if people worried about their weight! The boys of the old brigade would not have dreamed of using such a lengthy list of feeble excuses for their absence. Is it time to call the whole thing off? Tonight it is just myself and my dad keeping the Olympic flame alive. Emergency! Emergency! Can anyone out there save the Giovedi?

Aglio, olio and ....

So, tell me something I didn't know. It turns out that the latest BBC series on food is claiming that garlic is Mother Nature's answer to viagra. The Truth About Food has been running trailers making the claims about the stalwart of Italian cooking pepping up matters in the bedroom.

What is so intriguing about this is that it would answer an ancient conundrum. I regularly go out on a Thursday night and fill myself up with red wine, grappa and garlic-filled food. By the time I get home I always feel, to put it frankly, pretty much irresistible. I had always put this down to the alcohol but clearly the Italian food is playing its part too.

However, with every answer comes another question. What is Mother Nature playing at? Clearly a cocktail of Montepulciano, Grappa San Martino and garlic is her idea of the perfect aphrodisiac. But why has she made the smell of these favourite ingredients so repulsive that the chances of getting within 50 miles of a woman are minimal? The only solution, perhaps, is to ensure your would-be partner has consumed alcohol and aglio in similar proportions...

http://www.metro.co.uk/fame/article.html?in_article_id=32684&in_page_id=7&in_a_source=

Not a dream beginning

This year has not got off to a flying start for me. Blogging, eating, drinking and being merry have all gone swiftly out the window - courtesy of a winter sickness bug.

For anyone unfamiliar with this little fellow he strikes lower and harder than a bad bottle of home brew grappa (see how he weaves in his usual thread?). The first attack came on my daughter provoking major collateral damage to bedsheets, pyjamas, cuddly toys and anything within a ten mile radius. Inevitably, that led to the wife being the next victim quickly followed by son and father. I leave it to your imagination who made the worst patient although if you guessed the 30-something male you would be correct.

It's been hard to contemplate anything, let alone my favourite brew of late. Indeed, going to bed every night has become something akin to walking through a mine field. Where and when will the next explosion come?

A grappa-filled Christmas to you all

With holidays and family taking precedence over blogging of late, just a quick note to wish everyone a grappa-fuelled festive season. Sadly, it looks like my wife is taking a hard-line stance on alcohol consumption and expects to be allowed to be the drinker on either Christmas or New Year's Day (both big parties in our family). That means one of them without the grape juice for me! Still, I will endeavour to make up for it on whichever occasion I am allowed to partake.

Here's hoping you all get a bottle of the old firewater from Santa...

Match report

How was my four day birthday drink-fest I hear you ask? Didn't I? Well, I have just about surfaced in time to tell the tales.

Thursday - A grand grappa-drinking session with 14 fellow fools. The tapas was a treat and the steaks cooked to perfection. Afterwards the bottle came round the table with pleasant regularity although I did have my suspicions as to the lack of bite to the grappa. Still, a wonderful evening and some excellent conversation.

Friday - Running at a slightly lower peep due to previous night's efforts still managed to partake of a crab/prawn starter and pork fillet in mushroom sauce main course at aforementioned jazz club. The only jazz was on a large screen next to us but, thankfully, drowned out by our conversation. Grappa points nil, unfortunately, but still a good night although the place lacked a bit of atmosphere.

Saturday - Indian time with my wife. Much more relaxed affair. Pakora/samosa combo to start followed by Balti chicken and king prawn dopiaza. Top notch but no grappa once again.

Sunday - As always an outstanding meal round at my mum and dad's. Once more nobly fired into the red wine and coffees before collapsing in bed for about an hour in order to recover. Luckily, off work for a week in order to prepare for festive binges to come.

Another year, another bucket of grappa

With my birthday looming (Friday) what better way to celebrate than with a four-day long excuse for grappa consumption? My agenda has a hectic look to it over the next few days.

Thursday - The boys of the Giovedi Club are gathering for their Christmas do (among them that fine blogger Martino). A total of 14 (possibly 15) of the biggest scemi in Scotland will join together for wine, food and talk of a nonsensical variety. The venue this year is a tapas bar as our favourite local Italian has switched to its Christmas menu. There are only so many times you can eat turkey.

Friday - My actual birthday. Coincides, as it often does, with the Champions League draw AND a staff night out. This time around we will try a local Jazz Club which also does food. Given that I HATE jazz the omens are not good. Numbers, as always, have dwindled as people call off for a variety of reasons. Does nobody like Christmas parties any more?

Saturday - Queen of the South v Airdrie United, Fiorentina v Milan and, finally, a big fat Indian. Grappa opportunities nil (until I get home) but the chance to nibble a naan. Taking my wife out again. Twice in a year!

Sunday - The family gathering. Mum putting on a lunch for her kids and grandchildren. That should make a total of ten of us round the table for a bit of antipasto and the like. Then it will be off to a darkened room to recover.

Grappa as art

While conducting my internet research that found a Slovakian version of grappa (see the comments on the previous post) I also found this. I don't know why but I like it. Perhaps I could get it as my first tattoo.

All creatures great and small

Having returned from Tuscany with my father I think it would be fair to report that we did our bit for the grappa distillers of the nation. Indeed, we consumed more food and drink than I thought was possible in the space of four days. If it boarded Noah's Ark, we ate it. And that includes Mrs Noah.

The first day saw a traditional Bugno lunch when we arrived off the plane. A simple Penne Piccanti and main course ensued with grappa to finish (pictured above). It was the nighttime when things got going. At what looked like a roadside cafe we stumbled into an outstanding chef (although service was dreadfully slow).

Our seafood antipasto consisted of sliced squid, followed by salmon with aniseed, followed by cacciucco (seafood soup), followed by branzino (don't even know what that is in English), followed by some kind of mixed seafood. Needless to say, I struggled with my pasta al cervo (venison, I guess) to follow and my nodino di vitello (veal chop) after that. My dad had risotto with pigeon and a tagliata! The sweet came just after midnight. The indigestion lasted most of the following day...

The Road Trip 2011

Some of the best ideas are hatched over a few grappas too many, and some of the worst as well. Where this rates in that grand scheme of things I leave for you to decide. Nonetheless, a grappa-fuelled idea it were...

A friend of mine and fellow guzzler of the grape juice happens to have in his possession the rather nice old automobile pictured. It's his mum's in truth but he swears that he can do it up a bit and get it roadworthy. So, old grappa smarty pants says: "That's brilliant, once my kids are both at school let's take it round Italy!"

The idea has now taken legs and the Grappa Road Trip 2011 is firmly on the agenda. One month where two men (one 100 per cent Scot, the other a half-baked Italian) take a leisurely drive around Italia seeing the sights and sampling the spirits. My excuse is that it would make a book, a Scotsman's introduction to Italy combined with an Italian's introduction to the wonders of British car design. Or something like that.

Anyway, enough rambling. I need a start and finish point and a few things we "simply must see dahling" in between. My inclination was to start in Trieste as, strangely, my grandmother was named after the city (Dinora Ridenta Trieste if you can believe it). Maybe end up in Sicily? All input gratefully received. And do you think the car will make it?

A bizarre Sunday.

I had a rather bizarre experience for me on Sunday. As I headed back to Leith on the bus it suddenly occured to me that the grappa I had a few hours previously had actually been the LOW point of my day. A confusing experience for this grappaholic.

The grappa was served in Edinburgh's Lazio restaurant and, to be honest, was as rough as some of the bars that the restaurant shares Lothian Road with. Granted it was only £2.10, which is the cheapest grappa I have been served in an Edinburgh restaurant, but the sandpaper effect on my tongue confirmed my old granny's saying of "you get what you pay for".

Fortunately my day had these other highlights to make up for the grappa disappointment.

1. Celtic coming from 2-0 down to draw 2-2 with Hibs.

2. Seeing Paul Buchanan of The Blue Nile in concert.

3. Falling in love with Italian actress, Olivia Magnani in Consequences of Love at the Filmhouse. These photos show why..........

One enchanted evening

Well, I did manage to go out for that meal with my wife at a poncy modern cuisine-type restaurant. It turned out to be a memorable night for a number of reasons.

Firstly, the place was completely and utterly EMPTY. It has an upstairs and downstairs section and there appeared to be nobody in either. That didn't exactly make for a great atmosphere and I felt the waitress (who was lovely) seemed more than a little embarrassed by the situation. Still, we weren't going to let that spoil the night.

I had a seafood risotto to start (or risoni as they called it) which was more than passable. My main was duck breast in a plum sauce with noodles. The duck was good and tender but, unfortunately, some unnecessary salady stuff had landed at the side of the dish. One for my one ingredient too many book. My wife had a goats cheesy tartlet thing to start (very tasty but again on a bed of too much rocket) and an amazing vegetable curry which came on a huge frosted glass plate. Pretty tasty and an impressive layout.

The whole experience was sweetened not only by the company but also by the fact that with expert eye I had spotted something on the menu at the start of the evening. Grappa £1.65! You little dancer. A night out with the wife AND an unexpected grappa. La vita e' bella...

A momentous day

I don't like to tempt fate but, what the hell, this is shaping up like a famous day. The reason? I am taking my wife out for a meal.

Now we have been out for more meals than most of you have had hot dinners over the years but this one will be the first in months. We have done a few lunches but this is the first evening meal, I think, since Junior was born in March.

I don't know why but I've voted that we go to one of these fancy modern cuisine places which almost certainly neither of us will like. I always think they operate to a policy of "one ingredient too many". There are often too many flavours and the dishes are too complicated for their own good. Also, the chances of a grappa are slim.

Still, I intend to have a good bottle of wine, turn on the charm and remind my wife of why she married me. First, however, I need to remind myself...

Cosa manca oggi?

I remember my old Nonna used to have a piece of cloth in her kitchen which carried the headline "Cosa Manca Oggi?" - What is missing today? Down the front it had a list of household goods and little plastic pegs at the side to mark them with. It was designed to produce the weekly shopping list years before Tesco online was invented.

However, I was recently on a trip to Selkirk (I know, don't ask) when I dined out in a fancy hotel in Melrose. Having settled a dispute between the couple next to me about the ingredients of Pesto sauce I partook of a reasonable meal. However, at the finish I realised there was a problem when I looked down at the table in front of me.

Espresso, perfectly acceptable, six out of ten kind of brew. But a big space next to it on the left where something else should have been. And it made me think to myself "Ma Cosa Manca Oggi..."

Scotland v Italy

My recent 9 nights in a row of drinking grappa (and all the years up until now) have given me an idea on how the grappa experience varies in Italy and Scotland. Here I compare the two using various categories and mark each out of 10.

1. Quality – In my experience you tend to get a decent quality grappa when dining in Italy although occasionally a variety that is brewed in the mountains and strips the tastebuds from your tongue will be served to you. In Scotland good quality grappa is available although usually you have to know where to go to get it. Italy 8 Scotland 6.

2. Quantity – I don’t think I’ve ever had a small measure of grappa in Italy whereas in Scotland there is a tremendous variance in the quantity served up as one measure. I’ve had substantial measures in some restaurants (and even a second measure on the house) but in others the measure was so small it had almost evaporated before I’d even tasted it. Italy 10 Scotland 7.

3. Cost – The most I paid for a grappa on my recent trip to Italy was 3 euros. In Edinburgh restaurants the cost is typically between £2.50 to £4 although I have been fleeced £6 for a grappa. The fact Scotland has to import saves the country getting a smaller mark. Italy 9 Scotland 6.

4. Surroundings – I’m really talking about sitting outside drinking a grappa as a nice restaurant can be in any country in the world. I think the only Scottish outside grappa I’ve had was on Leith Walk in Edinburgh which although I love it, ain’t no Via Nazionale. I’ve also drank grappa in the Piazza Maggiore in Bologna, beside the Leaning Tower of Pisa, in the Piazza Napoleone in Lucca and of course outside Onesti’s in Barga. Bit of a no contest really. Italy 9 Scotland 3.

5. Waitresses – As an unashamed admirer of Italian women it is a major bonus when an attractive waitress brings the grappa at the end of the meal. However the scores here are a lot closer than you might think as a lot of Italian restaurant owners in Scotland employ family or Italian students to give a restaurant a more authentic Italian feel. If it wasn’t for the diners ordering broo-sheh-ta or tag-li-telly you could almost swear you were in Italy. Italy 9 Scotland 7.

Overall grappa score out of 50: Italy 45 Scotland 29.

The case for moving to Italy gets even stronger.

Martino's 9 in a row.

As a Celtic fan the phrase “9 in a row” has only ever meant one thing to me. Between 1966 and 1974 Jock Stein guided Celtic to, a then world record, nine consecutive league titles. Oh and he also made them European champions as well.

Anyhoo after Saturday night I set my own personal grappa 9 in a row. For nine consecutive nights I drank at least one grappa. I have to say it wasn’t intentional and I never set out to get nine but sometimes these things just happen.

Fri 29^th Sept – Was out at my brother’s and my sister-in-law had cooked Italian which was washed down with a few red wines. A grappa was the natural end to the night.

Sat 30^th Sept – Knew I was flying out to Italy very early next morning so had to leave Edinburgh at 3:30am to go to Prestwick. Had a wee grappa to help me get to sleep at 8 o’clock.

Sun 1^st to Tue 3^rd Oct – Visited Firenze, Lucca and Pisa. With large measures at 3 Euros it would have been foolish not to have had a grappa in each city.

Wed 4^th Oct – Quick stop back in Edinburgh and a visit to Domenico’s. Another grappa to end the meal.

Thu 5^th Oct – Visit to Ginkers in Dumfries. As is always the case a grappa in the restaurant then at least one more back at Ginkers’ house.

Fri 6^th Oct – A visit to Yorkshire for my nephew’s 6^th birthday. Fortunately the young lad has taste (takes after his Zio Martino) and wanted to go to an Italian for his birthday dinner. He’s a bit young for grappa but that didn’t stop me.

Sat 7th Oct - My brother, Brian, very kindly gives me the last of his grappa as a nightcap to ensure I make 9 in a row.