Montevideo - After our two winery visits Daniel took us on a whirlwind tour of Montevideo. Whirlwind was a harbinger of things to come, as I’ll get to in a moment. The city is quite fascinating, and had it not been rainy, cold, and windy, we’d have probably enjoyed an indepth tour. The city ranges [...]
Canelón Chico - My friends at Pisano offered to set us up for another tasting at a nearby winery. We’d originally planned on continuing on with our driver, Daniel, to tour a little along the southern cost of Uruguay, and then later into Montevideo. But the weather was quite rainy, visibility was limited, and this [...]
Progreso - On Tuesday, we’d planned a day around a visit to my friends’ winery, Pisano. Since we figured on drinking a bit, it was a little on the drizzly side, and Uruguayan wineries, like those in many areas, tend to be down small roads, we decided to hire a driver to take us around [...]
Montevideo - We had a thoroughly uneventful bus ride from Colonia del Sacramento to Montevideo, the capitol of Uruguay. My friends at the Pisano winery that we were planning on visiting on Tuesday had set us up at the modern, boutique hotel, Cala di Volpe. A little pricey normally, but with our “corporate rate” that [...]
Colonia del Sacramento - It’s not really forgotten, it’s more frozen in time. Colonia is an old colonial port town in Uruguay, and our first stop after crossing the river via ferry. Truthfully, it’s sort of the Uruguayan equivalent of “colonial Williamsburg” or something of that sort. Its one real claim to fame is that [...]
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"I have a few other dislikes, but not many. I don’t want salt sprinkled on my desserts, even high-minded pink sea salt from some Hawaiian coast. I don’t enjoy marshmallows snipped off tableside; it’s way too French. Of course, marshmallows roasted over a campfire are exquisite, the only dessert that should be served searing hot. (That’s the second great lesson I learned in the Cub Scouts.) I particularly dislike the custom of plopping cold ice cream in the center of hot soufflés, a perverse practice that ruins two desserts at once. I never cared much for Chuckles as a kid, and I don’t go for gelées now. That’s never going to change." - Alan Richman, GQ
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