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Look over the cover, page through the illustrations, then read the introduction on page iii at the beginning of the book.
Make three predictions about what will happen to Britta in this story and share them with a partner. Britta is traveling in an area of Finland that was once Sweden, so many of the people speak Swedish. What did Britta do to make sure the cab driver would drive them back to the hotel after bringing Elsa to the hospital? If a person does something wrong, does it make everything all right to say a€?Ia€™m sorrya€?? When Mama came home after Elsaa€™s death, how did she try to console herself and her children? Although Britta didna€™t understand everything the doctor said, she was able to communicate fairly well.
The doctor obviously recognizes Britta, and even though he cana€™t come down to steerage, what does he do for her? Why was Britta upset when she realized that Johan didna€™t have to go through the slow line she did? I'm with a pack of American cyclists in the heart of northern Italy's wine country, struggling up and soaring down the formidable hills that are everywhere pinstriped with vineyards. Suddenly I feel like a time traveler, catapulted back to the Old World, when powdered stag horns served as medicine and astronomy was a noble science. A few days after Easter, we're heading north towards a rolling mountain range known as the Langhe. Having brought dozens of American tourists to the Cantina del Conte, Claudio is now counted as a friend of its proprietor, Luigi Pelissero, who is on his knees weeding the vineyard with his granddaughter as we drive up. As we file downstairs to the cantina, situated beneath heavy oak rafters that date back 500 years, I reflect how Grinzane Cavour is one of those towns that embodies Piedmontese wine culture. Upstairs, as Pelissero fastens the paperwork necessary for transport of wine over the corks, I ask him about the old bottles of Barolo displayed on a shelf. What a fine family tradition, I think, wondering how my life would have been different had my parents reared me with quality Barolo.
On the drive home, I ask Claudio what it's like to grow up in a culture where wine is such an integral part of life.
Claudio started learning more about wine from his uncle, who owned a family-style restaurant and took the young boy to purchase wine from the cantine sociali, places where small producers pool their grapes to make wine collectively. Patricia Thomson is a regular contributor to PASTA and is president of La Dolce Vita Wine Tours. She changes the subject from the kitten to how long the train will take to get to Liverpool.
He doesna€™t understand Swedish, and probably because shea€™s a girl, he doesna€™t try to understand her. She asked everyone a€?What is this?a€?, and she wrote down the words she remembered on some papers she got at the hotel desk. She sold her the spoiled fruit and vegetables for a penny each day, and she also helped her learn English words. She got food and made meals, she made tea for Mama, she listened to her, and she encouraged her that things would turn out well.
It was a long, whitewashed room with triple bunks along the sides, and portholes by the top bunks.
It had nice wooden deck chairs and beautifully scrolled railings compared to the plain railings in Steerage.
She didna€™t tattle because she had gone up there, too, and she wanted to be able to go back again. She announced that Johan would have to take care of Mama and Arvid while she went up on the deck. She was just thinking about him and she figured he probably didna€™t have to stand in line with his own cup and bowl.


He told the boy to give the papers back, then he tried to get her to come in out of the storm. She watched how the ship was pitching and reached for the rope when it was tipped the right way.
She finally agreed to accept his apology, but she said she would never forget what a cruel thing he had done to her. Britta was a little stronger and a little more assertive, and Johan was a little more thoughtful and kind.
She was afraid that America would be a place where people with money would get all the best treatment, and poor people would struggle.
She saw her mother as stronger and positive, she saw Johan as a young man, and she saw them as a family unit rather than as separate people. As we pedal past acres of Cortese grapes which produce the white wine called Gavi di Gavi, our Piedmontese guide, Claudio Bisio, continues his impromptu lecture.
Being a modern-day American, I'm used to discussions about winemaking revolving about soil analysis, fermentation technology, phenolics, and oxidation. Rather than being dominated by technology and terminology, it's homey and familiar - the result of growing up with a vineyard in your backyard alongside the vegetable garden, and having a wine glass at your plate by the time you're age five, feet barely brushing the floor.
This is Big Wine country - land of bright and sassy Dolcetto, rustic Barbera, and imperial Barolo.
What's more, as the Italian wine industry has professionalized over the past few decades, producers have had little trouble selling their more profitable bottled product. Not only this 15th century house and its occupant, who carries on the tradition of his grandfather, the Count, and generations of nameless vinters before him. He closes his collar, afraid of catching cold, then proceeds to fill our demijohns, sucking the end of a long plastic tube like someone siphoning gas from a car.
On the other hand, I can't imagine any normal, red-blooded American teenager wanting to spend their birthday with their parents. Not surprisingly, some of his earliest memories revolve around the family vineyard his father and uncles tended. At that time, family restaurants generally sold only house wine bought in bulk directly from producers and served in unlabeled bottles, which one ordered by grape type.
Claudio is carrying a bottle of Barbera from last year's session which he plans to taste for the first time.
20121 Kings 8:28 -- But please listen to my prayer and my request, because I am your servant. She doesna€™t think her mother knows what to do, and she thinks her father would take charge. Shea€™s afraid they might talk about the kitten and realize that the girls are telling a lie.
He took charge and went to find out what was going on, while Mama waited for people to tell her what to do. She gave the cab driver a note that said, a€?Wait here, please,a€? she had Johan wait in the cab with the driver, and they didna€™t pay him until they got back to the hotel.
There were tables and benches lined up down the middle, with little wood stoves between them.
She was probably sad to be leaving Europe, sad about losing Elsa, and happy to be finally on their way. If she told, Mama might not let any of them go up there, and Britta hated to be disobedient. Yes, because he makes fun of her friend who helped her, even though he doesna€™t know ita€™s a boy. Johan dances wildly and freely, while Britta stands aside clapping and tapping to the beat. They stayed together as they watched the Statue of Liberty, they raced down to get the trunks together, and they worked together to get the trunks up to the deck and onto the ferry. She was very glad that they were all together again, although she was sad that Elsa wasna€™t with them.


This 39-year-old Italian who grew up trampling grapes underfoot has proven to be an informative wine guide, so we listen attentively. We may know more about wines from different parts of the globe than the average Italian (who retains a fervent regionalism in this regard), but we'll never be as relaxed with our knowledge. There on the wall is an engraving of Camillo Benso, the Count of Cavour, who was Prime Minister of Italy from 1850-61 and the owner of the castle that literally overshadows Pelissero's shop in the town of Grinzane Cavour.
There's also the 12th century castle towering above, where local producers bring their wine every summer for a judging, hoping to earn a spot in its prestigious wine museum and enoteca. They're in the unlabeled bottles of fresh, fruity wine that are still set on your table at a tiny countryside restaurant. My hands are cold and stained red with the fragrant liquid, which drips through my fingers as I shake and empty each bottle.
It shows that Hilda is more imaginative and adventurous, while Britta is practical and sensible. It really meant that the first class passengers would get off first, then the second-class passengers, and steerage (third class) would get off last. That's the allure of Mediterranean wine cultures, and it's precisely the lesson I wanted to absorb. Barolo producers set aside 50 to 60 bottles from a harvest the year a child is born, he explains. Claudio remembers the festa after the harvest, as well as his chores - hauling bottles, fetching corks, pressing grapes underfoot. And they're in the groin-vaulted cellar of Claudio's 15th century house, which has a vat in the corner for pressing grapes.
Some are four decades old, made of thick, weighty glass; others are recycled from last week's meals.
English was really important to her, and maybe she reacted that way because everything had been so hard for the whole trip. So when Claudio invited me to help select and bottle his year's supply of table wine, I jumped at the chance. As we putter past ancient hilltowns and vineyards reawakening from winter, he tells me that it was only 20 years ago or so that many producers started selling wine by the bottle. Each district in Italy has one - a combined wine store and tasting room featuring the wine from that region. Claudio then ciphens the wine from demijohn to bottle using a special pressure-sensitive hose that automatically shuts off when the wine reaches the bottleneck. Having combined the pleasures of handcraft and harvest, I'm satisfied that I've had a taste of the good life. Soon our garrison is ready for the corking machine - a cast-iron device that resembles a old-fashioned water-pump. Claudio greases its moving parts with olive oil, while I apply a light coating to the corks.
One by one, we set a bottle in position, pull the handle, and compress the cork inside a metal iris. Still brand new, it will be completely transformed in a year and requires some experience to judge at this stage. The culture of analyzing wine - looking, smelling, tasting, comparing - has come to the fore only in Claudio's generation. I like to use my labels, have a cellar with 20 bottles of Barbera from 1995, 1997, and so on, you know?



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