I had never been to one of these monster food-and-wine fairs before, so when Gabriella and Ryan invited me to join their team at Alimentaria 2010, I jumped at the chance. Others are writing about the sexy stuff: the wonderful wine tastings with the head sommelier at El Bulli; our fine meal at Cinc Sentits; our trips to Frexeinet and the Empurda. I thought I might give a personal impressionistic first impression, check out one experienced fair-goer’s thoughts, and take a small peek at the more mundane, nitty-gritty side: the presenters and organizers and what was on their minds.
We had no worries about getting off the local train at the right stop, or finding our way through the tunnel, or getting into the hall; we just allowed ourselves to be pushed along with the anonymous waves of humanity. Once inside, there were long lines everywhere. But we had press passes waiting for us, so we figured it would be a piece of cake. But there were seven of us, all with different pieces of identification. So the poor woman behind the desk had to struggle with driver’s licenses from various states, not to mention the English language. An hour later, we finally had our press passes in hand and with only one name changed! When we finally broke through the original bottleneck and into the clear, there was a surreal lull. Where had all the people gone? They had dispersed into the immensity of the four pavilions. We passed a ten-foot ham (not real) with a wall of hams (real) and a prominent ham cutter (also real) which was not in use; too bad because I was feeling a bit peckish. We also passed a dictator stand with women in black leather mini-skirts and whips (I have no idea what the product was). Many of the individual stands were empty…the crowds gone… nothing seemed to be happening.
I asked Mark Tafoya of The Culinary Media Network his thoughts on the fair. He’d been to a considerable number of these affairs: “We have a fancy food show in New York, where the wine and cheese stands are more mixed together. Here things are more separated out, a whole huge pavilion of wine and another pavilion of cheese and food. It all seems a little insular. Don’t get me wrong, I like what’s on offer here, and it’s clear that this creates a nice environment for doing business free of the non-industry ‘grazers’ who crash these events in The States. For my part, I’d like to see a mix of the two styles. I fear that some of these producers are missing out on a good opportunity to have their foods and wines showcased to an international non-Spanish speaking audience.”
Ana Belen Fernandez is a presenter from Vintae in Spain. “For domestic producers Alimentaria is a definite must. We have been very happy with the result and we actually have done a lot of business”. Co-owner, Ricardo Amarbarri, pitched in: Alimentaria is what they call in Spanish a “show up”, another English word which has apparently slipped into the Spanish business lexicon. “We call Alimentaria ‘la feria de los abrazos’ (the fair of the hugs).” All your distributors and friends drop by to say “hi”, have a few drinks, and chat about this and that. Which was, I realized, pretty much what I was doing. I was admiring their prize-winning wine labels and basic gray-and-chalk colored stand over a nice Riesling.
A representative from Bodegas Eidosela in Galicia said that small wine makers like him “have to be there if [they] want to build a name.” You hand out a lot of business cards and hope that they someday turn into enough business to justify the investment, which is significant for a small bodega. Since a lot of the presenters were just sitting around, or chatting with people like me, it was clear that any hard-core business was being done well behind the scenes or would be consummated a few weeks down the pike.
More than one presenter mentioned the significant drop in visitors compared with the last Alimentaria. This was primarily attributed to the economic crisis, but what would a fair be without a little controversy? While showing off their wines many wondered out loud why this year’s fair was being held at the very same time as Dusseldorf’s mega wine fair, Prowein; and how many visitors and presenters had been drained off. A client of Catavino, Oscar Quevedo, makes wine in the Douro Valley in Portugal and is heavily dependent on exports. For him the choice was clear: Alimentaria “is very local but for people interested in foreign markets, Germany is definitely more interesting.” He worked Prowein until it closed down and then dropped in on Alimentaria for the last day.
I asked one of the organizers about the Prowein controversy. “This is normal. This is Spain. Everyone complains about everything”. For him Alimentaria was “a big success.” He spoke of the 50,000 visitors on Day 3 and the voluminous business-card exchange which would translate to a lot of future business. In any case, hanging out with the presenters and getting in on some of the inside gossip over a friendly glass or two of wine was certainly added value for me.
Cheers,
Michael Oudyn of Wine Tripping

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