How does an artist convince a government agency to commission a series of essays that are not didactic and not obviously promotional? I have no idea, but that’s what John Wurdeman did. Five months after he had that big fat idea, I was sitting with the then chairman of Georgia’s National Wine Agency, Levan Davitashvili, on a bench outside of Ghvino Underground. I think we were drinking Didimi’s Krakhuna, and he told me how much he believed in the natural winemakers. He then said, “Now, let’s do that chapbook.” That chapbook was called Skin Contact. The end result, For the Love of Wine, would have been impossible without the inspiration, assistance, encouragement, translations, laughter, craziness, drinking, and friendship of John. It wouldn’t have been possible without a government agency that sets a world standard for commitment to real wine. And so those men and the forward thinking National Wine Agency, now lead by Giorgi Samanishvili, head the long list of madlobas.
But before I could even begin to write, there were the wines. Wine importer and all-round incredible man Chris Terrell provided me with my first tastes and then conspired to haul me over to that first qvevri symposium. After I started to write, there was a whole other classification of assistance. As far as the physical sculpting and snipping goes, the input of Sue Shapiro (and our Thursday night group) was invaluable. As a result they know more about Georgian wine — and natural wine — than they ever cared to know. Melissa Clark, as always, was a constant cheerleader and provider of sage advice. A dyslexic, I am reliant on selfless editors. My cousin Ann Kugel helped edit the original manuscript as did Doreen Schmid. Liz Reisberg is always on call to edit. Another favorite editor is my mother, Ethel. She is a force. All helped me to get this on the desk of my editor at Nebraska, Kristen Elias Rowley. Kristen responded immediately to the material and gave it a fine home. Since the first email contact she was a total delight to deal with. Later on in the process her editorial assistant, Emily Wendell, and, my project editor, Joeth Zucco, proved to be an enormous help. Still later I was lucky enough to work with Bojana Ristich, who blessed me with her careful copyediting.
Recipe collection was a group effort. Wonderful cooks fueled the possibilities, starting with the initial cooking of the Mothers of Shuamta Convent at the Alaverdi Monastery and continuing to the many feasts with many winemaking families. Luarsab Togenidze and Nino Mamulaishvili always had the doors of their restaurant, Azarphesha, open to me. John Wurdeman and Ketevan Mindorashvili tweaked my selections for authenticity. Cider maker Nathan Moss was my conduit to the uber-talented chef of the Pheasant’s Tears wine bar, Gia Rokashvili, and his wife, Tamro Janiashvili Rokashvili, both of whom provided me with recipe missing links and plenty of culinary inspiration.
Ketevan (or Keto) lent me her husband over and over again. Not only that, but she also gave me her friendship and her music and educated me on me how chacha could be the direct path to spirituality. She also shared her violet chacha, which to this violet lover was thrilling.
Tina Kezeli at the Georgian Wine Agency gave me my very own copy of Otar Iosseliani’s Falling Leaves, which I watched on repetitive loop, continually finding inspiration within. Irakli Cholobargia at the National Wine Agency fielded my questions and put up with my nagging for maps. Giorgi Barishivilli allowed the use of his wonderful photos. Ia Tabagari of Living Roots procured me books, travel arrangements, bookings, and schedules, including those with Bondo Kalandadze, master booze man, who shared his historic knowledge of wine and spirit making during the Soviet era; wine ethnologist Levan Pruidze, who gave me the academic side; and Givi Chagelishvili, who regaled me with Stalin-inspired wine stories.
I want to thank all of the brave winemakers who helped me, ferried me, and housed me during The Great Alice Handoff: John Wurdeman, Gela Patashvili, Metropolitan Bishop Davit of Alaverdi, Father Gerasime, Niki Antadze, Iago Bitarishvili and Marina Kurtanidze, Kakha Berishvili, Alexi Tsikhekishvili, Nika Bakhia, Malkhaz Jackelli, Soliko Tsaishvili and Nino Mikelaishvili, Ramaz Nikoladze and Nestan, and Lamara Bezhashvili. A special shout-out to the medievals: Queen Tamar and Shota Rustaveli, who still nurture the country by keeping the women strong, the men poets, and the wines honest. Finally, a thank-you to every single one of the winemakers who opened up their maranis (wineries) and qvevris and who shared their stories and their time. All have had a part in this journey, which will never feel finished.