Fairy Tales: Better Use for Glass Slippers - Drinking Barolo

"It seems as if we're in a fairy tale," I heard my friend say as we walked through the seemingly primeval gardens of Castello de Brolio last Friday. That's exactly what I was thinking. Even more so than the day I was enchanted by the light at the Boboli Gardens (see Quiet and Light from early October). The castle, built before the year the year 1000, belongs to the descendants of Barone Bettino Ricasoli who is known in the wine world as having defined the "original recipe" for Chianti. The castle itself has an amazing history, and we were fortunate enough to have a personal guided tour before proceeding to the winery.



Yesterday we toured Fontanafredda grounds in the Langhe valley, and there were certain areas that had that "times gone by" feel, although this estate is not as old, nor were we given any briefing on ghosts roaming the property - unlike the castle in Brolio. Fontanafredda is one of the largest wineries in the Piedmont (Piemonte) region (think Barolo, Barberesco, Barbera d'Alba, Dolceto D'Alba, sparkling wines). About the same time Barone Riscoli was dreaming of the ideal Chianti, Italy's first king,Victor Emmanuel II, was calling dibbs on this 150-acre piece of Alba real estate to use as a hunting retreat. The wine part came later thanks to the king's illegitimate son. OK, no ghosts, but how about a little scandal? As we walked toward the winery, my friend said, "It seems like we're in a fairy tale!"



NOTE 1: The Nutella plant is just beyond the property and a grove of hazelnut trees. Sigh. Having just licked yet another jar clean, I had my own definition of "fairy tale:" Once upon a time ... jump in ... large vat of said chocolaty creamy goodness ...

I knew what she was getting at. Didn't all little girls wanted to grow up to be princesses? I remember my mother reading me a fairy tale, can't remember which one, but I didn't know what the "rubies" or "emeralds" were, mentioned somewhere in the story. I also remember traipsing with her through the streets of Pittsburgh to a dentist appointment, and having a box of Cracker Jack with me. The prize? A little ring with a plastic red stone. My mother said, "THAT is a ruby." Well, then, I guess THAT makes me a princess, like the one in the story, now, doesn't it? I sat in the waiting room, circa 1970, and tried to put myself in "princess times."

NOTE 2: After discovering crystal therapy in the weirdness of my early 40s, I learned ruby is the "follow your bliss" stone. I bought an antique ruby ring the next year in Jerusalem. Yet another year later, I'm following my bliss, walking around castles - sometimes feeling like I'm in a fairy tale.

Now, I'll be the first to tell you I'm no princess, nor do I believe in prince charming. Women who sit around waiting to be "rescued" by some perfect guy make me want to throw up in my mouth, just a little. Yep, definitely not princess material. But these really are princess times, aren't they? To have the freedom to get out there and live "happily ever afters" now - not waiting for some happy ending. No one's going to come to your door with the other glass slipper you left at the ball. Best to write your own fairy tale!

I was thinking about this coming back from the market earlier today, and as I cornered the Duomo encountered the same parade that had been assembling on the Ponte Vecchio an hour earlier. Everyone was walking very slowly, a band of drummers, men, women, and children dressed as lords, ladies, some looking like princes and princesses - and of course the dudes in tights tossing giant flags. The "peasants" were bringing up the rear, pushing a cart containing olive branches and symbols of the harvest. I'm not smart enough to know what this was about, but stopped to observe - gotsta love men in tights. (Plus they were blocking my street.) I watched the girls in their "princess dresses" wave at the crowd and thought, "It's like I'm in a fairy tale."

Although, I can think of better use for glass than slippers...