Lake View's secret winery

Like the original Bacchanals, Dale Fillippo's wine pressing parties are epic events. They happen cyclically, and every free-spirited lover of all things sensual-syrupy cakes, exquisite music and, of course, fresh, flavorful wines-is welcome to attend.

Unlike the rites of the Roman god Bacchus, known to the Greeks as Dionysus, Fillippo's annual festivals don't take place just before the dead of winter. Instead, Fillippo's wine parties begin while it is warm enough for revelers to drink under the moonlight. And as the party enters its 12th hour, it reaches a fevered pitch.

Earlier in the day, Fillippo dashes from the backyard, where he keeps the massive oak and cast iron press, to the basement, where the grapes have been sitting, crushed and growing their own sweet stench, for about two weeks.

"I need you to take this out back and disinfect it," he says to his friend Maggie, handing her a 10-gallon bucket.

"I need you to watch this here and turn it off as soon as the juice stops coming out," he says to Jeanette, another assistant who has come to help and share in the reward. He hands her the tube, connected to the electrical pump rigged up to the press on the back porch.

Every so often, production slows. Fillippo yells out the window, "What's going on out there?" and someone just arriving from the back yard tells him everyone has gotten distracted with each other, the food and, of course, the wine.

Fillippo shakes his head.

"Everyone gets a little lazy and what should take four hours ends up taking, god knows ..." He grins from ear to ear and lets out a giddy laugh. "That's what happens, but we love it!"

Fillippo is an amateur wine maker, and quite possibly the most accomplished of his ilk in Lake View, if not the North side. His concoctions have won numerous awards and the number of apprentices at his legendary wine pressing parties snowballs every year.

His basement wall is lined with previous years' bounties-aging bottles of white merlot and sangiovese, barberra and tocai. Fillippo has been brewing his own wine for the past 30 years, and was his grandfather's assistant for years before that. A retired scientist, he is constantly re-examining and improving his methods, and trying out new and obscure grapes. This year's vintage included red and white merlots, a cabernet sauvignon, a red zinfandel, a chardonnay and a viognier, which, he says, "is like velvet."

Fillippo comes from one of the largest Italian families in Cook County and was raised with one brother and eight sisters. Needless to say, he's a charmer.

His methods have changed over the years, from the time he was a boy.

"The old Italians would be shocked, but I didn't change anything without a reason," he says, explaining that he switched from corks to screw caps and plastic "zorks" because they are more sanitary, and leave less opportunity for bacteria to spread.

"Yes, it's romantic to sit there, peel the plastic off, pull the cork out, smell it and all that, but it's a tradition that can come and go without too much pain," he says.

He never changed anything simply because it was easier. The most important thing, he says, is to grow comfortable with, and even revel in, the "slowness" of it all. "It's the process of something that you don't digest in a sound byte or a five-minute video. We have forgotten what it is to be slow and patient. Instant gratification has become the language we speak in."

Maggie said Fillippo buys the grapes every October and takes a handful of "investors" on board to help finance the project. Those lucky wine lovers, all of whom chip in-in one way or another-during the wine pressing party, will eventually divvy up the final product.

"They always think they are going to get their wine one month from now," she says, laughing. "They don't realize they will get it in one year."

To Fillippo, the process is a huge part of the fun. He also makes his own goat cheese, sausage and pasta.

Fillippo pours his energy and creativity into his passionate affair with food, drink and the people who come to his home to share it all with him.

Admirers parade in and out all day long, many returning after night falls to bask in a job well done and enjoy older vintages.

Although some gulp it down eagerly, Fillippo sips his slowly, contemplating every taste.

Wine, he says, is like life. If you just slurp it down with food, or drink it just to get intoxicated, you miss half the point. The effects are nice, he said, but even better is the experience.

"When you drink wine, you have to really taste it," he says.