It was midnight in January 2008 when I arrived in Rome. I quickly transferred to a bus heading to Florence. I was visiting for work, with events planned in Florence. As we drove, we passed through many tunnels and crossed mountain ranges. Later, I learned that the Italian peninsula is full of hills and slopes. The mild weather and warm sunshine make it the perfect place for growing grapes.
I arrived in Florence in the early morning.
After staying up all night, I headed straight to the event venue. My body felt heavy, but my heart was excited. In truth, I had been eagerly awaiting this trip to Italy, especially since I had been worn out by late nights working hard and drinking back in Seoul. Although I had visited Rome before on a backpacking trip during college, it was my first time in Florence. Plus, I’m someone who takes eating very seriously—I practically live to eat delicious food. Eating is the most important thing for me. That’s why I was so excited at the thought of trying authentic Italian pasta and pizza. I had even finished all the work and reports I needed to do before the trip.
Still, I had some sense of responsibility, so I quickly looked around the event venue in the morning before slipping out. I saw the Santa Maria Novella train station, the main station in Florence. It was lunchtime, and people were busily walking around, looking for places to eat. I joined them, feeling hungry. There was a small alley lined with old, dark buildings and tiny restaurants. The air was filled with the savory smell of delicious food. I went into a place selling sausages and bread that had quite a few customers. A shop owner held up one finger and asked, “Uno?” I said, “Yes,” and a moment later, he handed me a sandwich with meat inside.
I took a bite and…WOW! : Lampredotto
It was incredibly delicious. “What is this?” I wondered, as I opened the bread to see what was inside. It wasn’t regular meat, but seemed to be cow intestines. I was surprised to find intestines in a round bread roll. As someone who enjoys grilled intestines with soju, I was amazed by the rich flavor I hadn’t expected. Later, I learned that this was a Florentine meal called Lampredotto, a tripe sandwich. To this day, I’ve never found a sandwich, burger, or hot dog that’s better than Lampredotto. The taste of the broth-soaked intestines in the white bread is still vivid in my memory. Unfortunately, that was the only Lampredotto I’ve ever had in my life.Still in a daze from the incredible tripe sandwich, I started walking toward Florence Cathedral, Duomo. As I walked through the yellow-colored buildings, the huge dome of the cathedral and the white building began to come into view, making me realize, “I’m really in Florence, just like in the pictures.” Something primal seemed to be guiding me as I circled the cathedral, just like the moon orbits the Earth. The dome was massive, and I was still in a daze as I climbed the stairs inside it. The frescoes on the inner walls of the dome were chaotic and a little frightening. Just as I was beginning to feel exhausted and distressed, I came across a narrow, dark staircase. I couldn’t see anything, and my breathing became heavy. I felt a sense of fear as if my head and chest were about to burst. Just when I thought I might collapse and reached out to touch the floor, I saw light.
At the very top of the Florence Duomo
It felt like heaven. The warm golden-yellow city of Florence lay below, and the blue sky stretched out above. It surrounded me, 360 degrees around. Suddenly, I felt a lump in my throat, and my eyes welled up. I realized there were other people around. I walked around the roof, but I couldn’t calm down until I’d completed the circuit. I tried to take in the view of Florence one last time and forced myself to stay calm as I finally descended. It was only after I came down that I realized I hadn’t taken a single picture.
Before heading back to my lodging that evening, I stopped by a tiny restaurant and had a plate of carbonara pasta. It was the real kind, without any cream, and it came with a house wine. The wine was poured into a glass cup, not a proper wine glass, but a thick, old glass. This was the start of my love affair—with the unpretentious, warm wine I drank in what felt like a cozy, run-down diner. At first, I wondered if it would give me a headache, but it turned out to be just the opposite.
The flavor of the egg and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese in the pasta was the ultimate in savory richness. But the slightly sour red wine balanced out the richness perfectly. The wine was lively, with a strong acidity and a cherry aroma that filled the small restaurant. I didn’t know what kind of house wine it was. I was so curious, but the staff seemed to be busy and not able to speak English. I wasn’t brave enough to ask, too. I just lost myself in the flavors of the pasta and wine. The wine wasn’t like the elegant sips from a fancy wine glass; it was more like the honest, down-to-earth warmth of a grandmother.
Even after I returned to my lodging, the scent of the wine lingered in my mind. It wasn’t the buzz from the alcohol, but the memory that made me feel good. Ah! So this is why people drink wine. Contrary to my expectation that I wouldn’t be able to sleep due to jet lag, I felt sleepy. I decided that I must have wine again tomorrow. I also promised myself to ask what kind of wine it was, and then I fell asleep.
[vino]
The wine I had was Chianti, made from Sangiovese grapes.
All the wines I drank in Tuscany were Chianti. During my early days of exploring wine, this was the main wine I encountered. Most beginners start with bold, tannic wines like Chilean or American Cabernet Sauvignon, but I began with these fresh and lively Italian wines. While I enjoy expensive wines, I prefer those that are easy and comfortable to drink. At the end of this series of stories, I’ll introduce the wines I’ve fallen in love with. Remember, these are just my personal favorites, so take them as suggestions. The world of wine is as complex as the universe, and our tastes are just as intricate.
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