Montepulchiano, it seems, is a whole hilltop town held up by wine cellars. On every street and lane, doorways lead off down into the darkness. A few doors up from our apartment is Cantina del Redi, a cellar built under a 14th century palace. We enter through the back door and following the arrows, descend down a series of stairways passing side chambers filled with dusty oak barrels and stacks of maturing bottles, to a high vaulted gallery full of barriques, the large oval French barrels used for maturing the wine.
Shirley poses for a photo before, slightly embarrassed, we ask the lady behind the counter for a bottle of the Cantina’s cheapest offering. The result: accompanied by fresh bread rolls, soup and salami from the butcher; vey nice indeed.
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