Not Meeting Miani: RL Burnside Singing in Friuli

Harmontown, Mississippi Meets Buttrio, Friuli

“Been mistreated, and I don’t mind dyin’

Been mistreated, I don’t mind dyin’”

The Sun’s beams speckled light criss-crossing spots of shade all upon the rows of native son vines Schiopettino and Tazzelenghe; a dazzling beginning to a beautifully bizarre June day in Friuli. Hard to imagine a scenario where only hours later strains of rocky blues from Mississippi delta Mephisto-like RL Burnside would flat-out blare across the lovely patio lunch tables and their fresh flower arrangements right into the ears of a gaggle of befuddled at the start, hungry guests. We arrived early for our 9AM rare rendezvous with star winemaker Enzo Pontoni and his globally esteemed Miani winery. No one was home. At 9:20 an older woman (Enzo’s mother it turned out) pulled into the courtyard on her bicycle. We get a quizzical stare after handing her her son’s confirming fax, and at our incomprehensible “English”.

These are the times when you know you’re screwed.

Twenty minutes later we knew Enzo was a no-show. (If you who saw the delightful George Jones October concert at the Schniztner here in Portland you may recall the backdrop stage video behind the “showed-up” Jones— “NO-SHOW-JONES”.) By now we knew we had no chance for the fox or for the henhouse. We decided we’d fly the coop. Next stop, down the road to see Paolo Meroi at his nearby winery and killer restaurant called Al Parco. We rousted him an hour early and he said, “hey let’s taste some wine, breakfast is over”. Well that seemed like the thing to do, besides Enzo is Paolo’s buddy and helps him make the wines at Paolo’s place called A.A. Davino Meroi. No, no hip-hop name, Davino Meroi, the home of Azienda Agricola, or A.A. Things were either looking up or looking down depending on your perspective. “So Paolo, old boy, we had a confirmed meeting at Miani, what’s up with Enzo?” Now, —— if you’d seen the grin on Paolo’s face, just x that look by ten. He says “I saw him on his tractor this morning around 5AM, he’s out in the vineyards. Enzo never meets anyone!” This remark was followed by Paolo telling us it’s time to taste his whole nine-wine line-up out of barrel! He has no spit buckets and we CANNOT spit on the floor. But at this point, who cares? After tasting the first wine out of barrel, we decided to tough it out. What the heck, it’s better than riding around on a tractor with “no-show Enzo”.

The restaurant patio was only a short walk away.

A batch of birds had gathered around the hedges and trees near the dining tables. As soon as we sat down Paolo cheerfully brought over five (more) bottles of wine and four glasses. “The new vintage”, he grinned. (Keep in mind there are only two of “us”.) It was at this point that I stopped taking wine notes. Next thing we knew, his lovely wife drops off a few plates of frico and gnocchi. The birds are still chirping. The tables are now filled. The glasses are filled. Enzo’s rocking in the rows. Paolo is in the kitchen. Out he comes with some pasta dishes and an “older vintage” of something and two more glasses. It’s becoming like being at Grandma’s and you feel like you have to finish your plate before they bring out the next one. We keep “tasting” too. I was not sure how that “better part of valor” quote went, but being on that tractor would have covered it. A big meat dish is brought out, and that’s when I gave him our little gift; RL Burnside’s CD “Come On Over”. Who knew Paolo was a Delta blues freak? He puts it on inside (all the guests are outside) a bit loudly, and we can see inside that he’s doing a little dancing, in fact everyone can see that. Then he brings us two more bottles; his SENSATIONAL dessert wines; Verduzzo and Picolit, along with some fruit and pastries. This seems to have gone a bit too far. We’ve generously passed our bottles to our new friends on the patio. They seem to like us well enough. Now Paolo hits hyper-drive and CRANKS up the music and clicks on the patio speakers... t’s his place baby, he can do what he wants. Now he is walking around the patio showing the guests the CD. People are writing down “RL Burnside” on napkins. Paolo waves us back inside. We can’t hear him anyway, too loud. He’s got this bottle of home-made Grappa about the size of a microwave sitting out on a table, and that is about where I lost track of the day.

E&R article from a decade + ago.