Sorry! Come back when you grow a mustache.
Udine, 1942. A complicated year, that is hard on everyone. A year of war.
One sunny afternoon Lao Menazzi Moretti, deep in thought, is out for a stroll around his home town, taking in the streets and squares, the picturesque little corners and the faces he knows and loves. He has his camera with him and, as always, is on the lookout for stories to capture. He scans the roofs and walls, spotting a dozing cat, and a bicycle in the distance.
His attention is caught by a man sitting in a café. A man who has something both timeless yet modern about him, dressed in a dark green suit, a natural, with a smart hat, an impressive moustache and a face that seems to tell a thousand stories.
As always happens in the kind of encounter that is destined to change your life, he feels like he’s known this man forever. Lao Moretti approaches the man and asks if he’s willing to have his photograph taken: instinctively, because on that sunny afternoon in that difficult year the man looks like an image of reassuring tranquillity worth preserving.
Lao asks if he can give him something in exchange for the photo, to thank him for his trouble. Looking up from under his hat, the man with the moustache smiles:
“Cal mi dedi di bevi, mi baste”.
Buy me a drink, that’ll be fine.”
And what could it be but a tankard of cool ale?
Another fitting sign of destiny, asking none other than Lao Moretti for a beer. And so it is that while the man with the moustache sips his beer, Lao takes his photograph, capturing the shot destined to be the icon of Moretti beer for ever more.
The symbol of a sincere, direct encounter, for the drink that, more than any other, brings people together.