Life in the Wine-ness Protection Program

Some business travel recently had me in, of all places, Elkhart, Indiana for one night. It was a dark and stormy night to be exact. One of those midwestern dark-sky, thunder and lightning, pressure so low you feel underwater even though it isn’t even raining yet sort of evenings to be even more exact. I figured a tornado was going to drop onto us and send the entire hotel off to crush a witch along with the entire village of Munchkins at any moment.

So we went out to dinner.

Why be party to small-scale (pardon the pun) genocide when we could be quaffing cheap red wine? My traveling companion picked an Italian place from the phone book and we piloted ourselves through the whirlwinds to their parking lot. How did this place get here?All I could figure was that this place must be owned by somebody in the Witness Protection Program. The food was excellent. Just basic hearty Italian fare that exists somewhere between what I’ve come to expect from either over-done, over-thought, over-wrought Italian Cuisine found on the west coast, and the exceedingly bland spaghetti & Ragu one finds in the midwest. This wonderful place had exactly what you imagine when you think of Italian food. Subtle flavors, and simple presentation all backed up by excellent service. Our breadsticks and marinara sauce were amazing, especially the sauce. Light, tangy, with exactly the right amounts of herbs and spices. Salads were simple, and really the sole low point of the experience as the dressing was served in a little plastic cup… I much prefer my salads pre-tossed and people with diet hangups who want to have complete control over their fat and caloric intake shouldn’t be going out to dinner in the first place! For the entree I picked a calzone. I chose the smallest (9″) one as we were leaving early in the morning and I knew there would be no way I could keep the leftovers for tomorrow. My companion chose the veal, despite the lack of a comedian nearby suggesting he try it. (hey, don’t look at me!)

As we awaited our entrees a bottle of Chianti arrived. Cecchi Chianti Classico 2005. Ah Chianti, that super-cheap Tuscan. In this case it fit the bill. Not so amazing as to outshine the basic fare, but certainly not strictly a cheap buzz. Basic, reasonable quality red wine. You should be able to find it on a shelf for under $15.

Our entrees arrived and my calzone was bigger than my head. I asked the waitress for a ruler, claiming that there was no way this pie started out anywhere near nine inches across. She just laughed and walked away. It was excellent and I ate it all.

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