Even a Frenchman doesn’t say no to Italian bread when it is served with the best balsamic vinegar. 
 
The fruits of the Po Valley are plentiful; pressed grapes poured into casks, chestnut, juniper, cherry, mulberry, ash, oak, the slow passing of the dutiful years, steady evaporation, the caresses of the flavourful wood. And then, bread, olive oil, tomato, basil, mozzarella. Or, as it is a thing of art, you can leave it on a shelf for inspiration. 
 
Perhaps someone’s sophisticated eccentricities deserve recognition, perhaps they, or you, have just been to Italy, perhaps you want to subtly suggest an alternative grape product to an overindulgent friend: write them a letter.