Veneto dreamin'...

While sipping Prosecco last Friday evening at Ripple in Cleveland Park, Zan beside me with a Rioja, we tangentially fell into a conversation on the origins of Prosecco. Josh, bartender extraordinaire, gave us the basics: Prosecco is an Italian grape.

"Where's in Italy is it grown?" I asked, surprised to stump the two men.

"Mo," Zan and Josh solemnly, simultaneously said, as if in reverence. "Mo will know."

Mo, the sommelier, is a vino viking, a wise wino, a goblet god. Without batting a single eyelash, Mo told us Veneto. Prosecco is grown in Veneto, Italy.

Provoked with imagined vineyards, rolling hills and margherita pizza magically appearing at every turn, I was filled with instant wanderlust for a place unbeknownst to me only seconds before.

Here's a little of what I've learned about Veneto in the days since...

• It's the most visited region in all of Italy, home to Venice and Verona (home to fictional lovers Romeo and Juliet. Perchance you've heard of them?)


• Prosecco is made primarily in the district of Valdobbiadene


• The Prosecco wine route starts from a CASTLE - The Castle of Conegliano


• You can cycle the Prosecco wine route... which is awesome.

From a 2010 Guardian overview of the region and wine:

Italy's famous sparkling prosecco wine comes from vineyards that cover a picturesque valley, just north of Venice. While Champagne refers to a region, prosecco is the name of the grape that is grown on rolling hills that stretch from the town of Valdobbiadene past Treviso and Conegliano, as far as Vittorio Veneto. A couple of days driving along this 'strada del vino' combines wine tastings in village cantinas, staying in charming B&Bs run by winemakers, and the chance to discover the local Veneto cuisine in rural osterie and trattorie.

I've fallen in love - with the idea, with the grape (though that's not new) and with the idea of a vineyard adventure.

I think the reason travel is so special to me, outside of the exclusively positive experiences I've had doing it, is that it allows me to dream. It's teasing-me worthy that I heard the name of a region and romanticized it within seconds, but that's how I travel, that's the beauty of travel to me. I discover new places and I try their names on my tongue over and over, and they never lose their newness. I research them until I've committed facts and locations to memory. And finally, hopefully, I visit.

I'm oft-criticized for being too easily disappointed when experiences don't meet my expectations. It's a flaw of mine, but it has never happened when it comes to travel. A foreign place holds no set expectation in my mind, only endless possibilities.

I told Zan, sitting at Ripple that evening, that it's decided - someday we'll be in Veneto, Italy. He nodded okay.

[caption id="attachment_22" align="aligncenter" width="538"] I can't get enough of this beautiful shot from deliciousitaly.com.[/caption]

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="509"] Conegliano Castle from an incredible post on the prosecco wine route on throughthebunghole.com.[/caption]

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="600"] Verona in Veneto. I love this beautiful shot from Kristine Neeley's collection of Veneto pictures.[/caption]

White water tubing on the Potomac

Before this weekend, I'd been tubing twice. The first when I was 8 or 9 years old. I had a newly casted right arm, as I had broken it roller skating down a neighborhood hill. I took out a mailbox and my radius (or is it ulna?) in the process. We went vacationing in North Carolina, and I slid down the rapids holding my arm over my head, a trash bag tied around the cast billowing in the wind; I still smile at the memory. At least my mom never lost sight of me, right?

The next time, I was about 16. My brother and I drove up to Helen, GA. On the drive home, Chris told me stories of family history and drama that took place before I was born. The day remains etched in my mind, if not for the rapids than for the bonding.

This weekend marks my third tubing trip, this one on the Potomac, to celebrate Matt's 26th birthday. With neither a broken arm nor a family mystery unfolding before me, I could focus solely on the experience, and it was incredible.

River Riders showed Matt, Whitney, Ellie, Zander and I a five-minute video that equated white water tubing with death approximately 17 times, then piled us in a run-down school bus, handed us life vests and inflatable tubes and said, "Have at it!" Our guidance was this: we'll drop you off on the right side of the river. You need to be on the left. The trip should take about 2 hours.

Make that ~3.5 hours for us, since the first 45 minutes was spent paddling ourselves to the correct side of the river! Our arms were all a little sore the next day, but it was one of the best parts. Zander showed off his strength by propelling himself to the starting point within minutes of entering the water. Meanwhile... the rest of us laughed so hard our abs hurt while we flailed in the water, unable to gain momentum. Ellie finally gave up paddling herself, jumped out of the tube and swam the distance.

I was the runt of the group. No matter how much water I shoveled or how fast I rowed my arms, I couldn't keep up.

SO naturally hilarity ensued when the rest of the group hit the first rapids, and I came trailing behind minutes later, unable to propel myself the direction they did. My tube capsized, and I went flying into the water. I laughed so hard I swallowed water and emerged to the sound of their collective laughter on the rocks in the distance, where they all paused to wait for me.

The rest of the trip we fought to stay together with death grips on one another's tubes. We snaked down the river in a chain, kicking off rocks to keep from being beached, guffawing when it happened anyway and admiring the stunning views of Harpers Ferry above. It was a picture perfect summer day.

At only 90 minutes from D.C., Harpers Ferry is an incredible day trip. We chose River Riders because 1) we were all inexperienced and wanted to go through a company and 2) their entry point into the Potomac is a good 2 miles above other company's. It's $34 with tax and fees for white water tubing with a standard tube (no butt and no back). We stopped at Sheetz for lunch - a gas station with a shockingly tasty sandwich/wrap bar. I spent $10 for Zander and myself to have 6" subs, chips and drinks.

While the day was on the expensive side for me, $45 left me full, worn out and sun-kissed. It was a guilt-free, worth-every-penny splurge.

We're toying with the idea of buying our own tubes and researching entry points so we can go it alone (and cheaper) next time. I can't wait!

[caption id="attachment_18" align="aligncenter" width="538"] I love this picture of the Potomac from sueandstu.blogspot.com[/caption]

Vace is for lovers

Zander introduced me to Vace, the Cleveland Park (and Bethesda) Italian delicatessen and market, mere weeks into our burgeoning relationship. He didn't know it then, but with that innocuous move, my heart was his. I'm half-Italian by birthright and 100% by taste buds: Prosecco, prosciutto, pizza - vi amo!

On our (first) date night at Vace, we perused the small shop's large selection of house made sausage and pasta, marinara, olive oils and deli meats for ingredients to make homemade pizza. Our pizza was divine, but at $40, a splurge on only the best ingredients (goat cheese, mmmm!). Since then, we/I frequent it for my frequent pizza cravings.

In addition to deli items, they sell pizza by the slice and pie and sub sandwiches. A large (and it's BIG at 16"!) three topping runs us about $16 and is hands down my favorite pizza in D.C. Beware - they're light on the cheese and layer the sauce on top. It's a style I'd never had before but that has won me over. It's thin...ish crust. Simply put - it's heaven. The sandwiches stand on their own, as well - for $5.25, the 8" Italian hoagie can't be beat. As a side note - they don't have tables, this is a takeout restaurant/market.

Vace is 300 square feet of Italy, down to the Italian owners whose accents alone make me say, "Extra mozzarella, please" while fingertip kissing the air.

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="480"] 3315 Connecticut Ave NW[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_7" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Zan's and my first homemade pizza - with Vace dough, sausage, pepperoni, sauce and fresh mozzarella and goat cheeses.[/caption]

Clifton and vino, an unlikely duo

I'm no Virginia aficionado, but when Jess and Bryan invited Zander and me out to Fairfax for wine tasting, I was incredulous. Knowing Jess's wine expertise, however, we quickly agreed.

I'm so glad we did because not only did we have an incredible time getting to know J&B better (they're a beautiful couple, to boot!), the wine was fabulous and affordable.

After fighting traffic on US-50, Zander only occasionally holding back from screaming obscenities, we made our way to the quaint town of Clifton, VA. Jess discovered Clifton's annual wine festival online and pitched it as a perfect precursor to visiting a conveniently-located nearby winery.

Clifton is a trip back to another time, complete with a general store, an ice cream depot and an old train car. Set in the midst of rolling hills, it's as picturesque a town as it gets. The entire town is center is two blocks, and the festival occupies a full one of them.

For $22/person, we tasted more than 30 wines from 10 Virginia wineries, some well known like Philip Carter and others emerging, such as Little Washington Winery. Some wines were undoubtedly better than others, a few were allowed to warm a little too much for taste in the blazing 100 degree sunshine, but overall we enjoyed the experience and many of the wines. We even scored a few coupons for free wine tastings at some of the individual wineries!

We left Clifton and meandered the two winding miles to Paradise Springs winery, local to Jess and Bryan and one of their favorites.

It delivered. Paradise Springs won't make your jaw drop with relentless vine-covered hills, but it will put you at ease and relax you with a sprawling open-air deck, live music and a wine list to suit any palette. The tasting is a great deal - for $10/person you sip 10 wines, keep your glass and learn about each from the knowledgeable staff.

Our favorites:

2011 Sommet Blanc (Jess keeps bottles of this in her personal wine fridge - she highly recommends it!)
2011 Chardonnay (my personal favorite and one we gave to Zander's mom with great reception)
2010 Meritage (delicious with steak, as we discovered at dinner!)

We completed our day lazily lounging on Jess and Bryan's beautiful back porch, grilling, enjoying more wine and each other's company. I left tipsy and fell asleep before the car door was barely shut.

It was an incredible Saturday spent in the sun with friends and stellar vino for $32/person. I'm already looking forward to the 2013 Clifton wine festival to do it all again, this time with a trip to the ice cream depot.

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="500"] A great photo from Jama's Alphabet Soup blog of the train car in historic Clifton[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_16" align="aligncenter" width="300"] With Jess at the Clifton wine festival.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_15" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Our inner kids were beginning to come out when we saw the playground at the festival site.[/caption]

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="480"] Paradise Springs[/caption]