Lost in translation

Yesterday we saw a place where they brew their own wine not far from our place. Since we've been enjoying a lot of wine after we put Owen to bed (as per the earlier post), we thought we'd give it a try. It's ridiculously cheap, like €2.50 for 1.5 liters. We went into the store and asked the guy what he reccomended. He asked if we were looking for "medium or strong". We said strong, and got something called raboso.

We then hopped on a Vapoertto to an island called Burano. The tour book said it was a quaint little place with beautiful photo opps. That was very true. We found ourselves in a shop where a man makes glass and watched him for a while make lolli-pops. It was pretty cool.

By he time we got back to Venezia, it was getting late so we grabbed a quick bite across the canal from our place and then put Owen to bed. He was still a little crazy, but I managed to settle him enough that he got some milk before bed and didn't bite me at all. Thank goodness, because that was starting to get pretty stressful.

We got into the wine and quickly realized that we got a little "lost in translation". He said strong, but he meant sweet. It was gross. So, like the night before, off one of us went to the somewhat overpriced liquor store down by the train station for some half decent valpolicella.

The more we drink Italian wine, the more it grows on us.



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