Having just slightly miscalculated the volume of juice he was about to extract in the garagiste's lair last night, the Italian husband was fortunate to have the help of a few good men (in purple - hands, feet, shirts!) to force the season's new wine through traditional press and into the barrel beyond.
And it just goes to show that German muscle, determination and technology (in the form of good friend, Rob Brockman, who innocently 'popped' by to see the action en route to Cucina Paradiso for a civilized Friday night dinner with Karen) does succeed in kicking the casual Italians into top gear.
After shedding top layers (to keep clean for his supper at Cucina!), Rob was a one-man power house at the press, squeezing at least a couple more gallons than would have emerged had he not been on the spot and willing to get stuck in!
Pressing the new wine is a messy affair, let me tell you. Not for the faint of heart and certainly not for the house proud when the wine making process takes place at home.
What a massive sigh of relief when the last drop has been officially declared and our friend Mike hauls away the shallow skins for his happy cows.
It's done and dusted for another year, with the garagiste hard at it this morning with a power washer and a wicked clean up mission.
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