I had lunch the other day with Sandro Boscaini of Masi, the Italian Amarone producer, at Manhattan's Alto restaurant. Boscaini has a bit of that same mischievous twinkle in his eye that the late William F. Buckley, Jr. had (which David Remnick memorably described as "the eyes of a child who has just displayed a horrid use for the microwave oven and the family cat"—so actually it's probably more fair to say that Boscaini has the same mischievous twinkle but without the implied hint of cheerful sadism). In any case, the lunch was terrific—chef Michael White's cooking blew me away—and the wines, a series of Masi amarones stretching back to a 1983 Campolongo de Torbe, were remarkable, too.
Boscaini has a way with a phrase, and I particularly liked this comment: "It's impossible to bring Juliet's Balcony in Verona to New York, but we can bring a bottle of Amarone. Through the juice of the grapes we can encapsulate in a bottle the romance, the culture, the story of a people."