As the wife of a man who writes about wine I have come to realize that there is no group of people so hospitable as wine producers. Accompanying
At a densely attended bibulous occasion in Montalcino—the southern Tuscan town where one of the world’s most fascinating red wines, Brunello, is produced—a large spread was served buffet-style at midday. A vegetable pie was served that tasted better at each bite. I returned for seconds, and for thirds. One of the guests at my table, a woman of about my years, smiled after my third trip back from the buffet. “I am happy to see you like the cauliflower sformato,” she said. “It’s irresistible,” I replied. “I wish I knew how to make it.” “I can tell you,” she said “I am the one who made it.”
A 7 by 11-inch oven-to-table baking dish or any other format of comparable capacity
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