Hot sunshine bakes the dry river bed as we cross the Piave and drive to Valdobbiadene, sat navs at the ready to find our location. A friend from California, who’s in the wine business, is staying with his wife and has arranged for us to visit the home of Mionetto Prosecco.
I’ve blogged about this delicious wine before, and I can’t wait to try the different varieties. Perfect for a day like today, when perspiration prickles my hairline and armpits. Sergio Mionetto was a friend of Mum’s. A real character, he was the centre of attention at many of her parties. (She was a great party-giver.) He sold the family business some years ago, with the proviso that the new owners could retain his name, and use the slogan, This is not just a Prosecco, it’s Mionetto.
We pile out of the two cars (there’re eight of us and Cara). In the tasting room, we learn about the history of Mionetto and find out why the grapes grown on the hills around Valdobbiadene are ideal for prosecco making. It’s the thin soil, which gives way to stone, and provides the fruit with a mineral taste.
Francesca, the lovely manager, opens bottle after bottle for us. There’re silver pots in the middle of the table, and I realise what they’re for. But how can I spit out wine after I’ve tasted it? The first two glasses go down a treat, then the sensible voice in my head tells me to take one sip only from the next three glasses and pour the rest into the pot. What a waste!
Brother peruses the catalogue and makes his choices.
There’s a museum showcasing old vinification implements, and a collection of all the iconic wine Mionetto has produced.
Laden down with purchases, we set off for lunch at the Trattoria alla Cima, which is surrounded by vineyards on the hill above the town.
The restaurant produces its own prosecco, and the food is absolutely delicious. Check it out here! A close-up of Cara with my sister and brother-in-law.
A thunderstorm is brewing, and rain starts to sheet across prosecco country.
We head home via the Caffè Centrale in Asolo for some gelato. A day for the memory bank, I think.