Vino! Vino! Wherefore art thou Vino?

Today I have been diverted by a comment I heard from a friend who didn’t like Verona. She hated all the clichés that I revelled in. I figure a cliché is only cliché because it is true.

Of course, there is no truth to the legend of Romeo and Juliet. These were the mental wanderings of an English playwright. God bless the Bard. Nonetheless, multitudes take a pilgrimage to Verona each year to view the famous balcony and cover the archway with banal graffiti.
That doesn’t mean it isn’t worth a visit. I might not believe that Jesus can be seen in a tortilla chip, but I still want to see the chip!

The great Roman amphitheatre still hosts opera and the medieval buildings and the winding streets of this ancient town all have their attractions, if that is what steals your heart.

My heart is given to Bottega del Vino.

Established in 1890 in the heart of Verona, it is a little small and a little cramped. The waiters, dressed in old-fashioned black and white, dance a ballet between the close knit tables and the expensive and precariously stacked stemware. The antique, hand-blown glass lights, hang low and add to the sense of wonder and fragility.

Start with the Sfilacci di Cavallo (Horse Meat with Oil and Lemon Dressing). For mains look at the Baccalà alla Vicentina (Codfish Stewed with Milk and Anchovies) or the Brasato all’Amarone. Actually, have whatever you want. I don’t care and that is not why you are there.

You are there for the 80,000 plus bottle cellar of Italian classics going back to before you were born. You are there for what is probably the best wine list in all of Italy. I know big wine lists are another kind of cliché, but it is the kind to which I can succumb.

Recently, I opted for the a Speri Amarone from the classic 1983 vintage and a stunning Sangiovese-based Marzieno from Fattoria Zerbina in Emilia-Romagna (I think it was 1988). The rest of the world is represented too, but when in Verona drink as the Veronese do and try an Amarone to finish up.

So I have to ask my friend as Dire Straits did:
Could it be be, babe, it was just that the wine was wrong? Juliet? Salute!

Photos from top to bottom: "the" famous balcony; one of the hand-blown glass chandeliers at Bottega del Vino.