foodie nyc

Rosemary, Ginger, Smoked Paprika Bloody Mary

As certain people in my life know, I'm a little obsessed with the Bloody Mary. 

I always seem to wake on a weekend morning with a crazy desire for the perfect Bloody.  Sure, it's about the flavor.   But it also symbolizes the the celebratory, unburdened sense of freedom I associate with a weekend morning.    

My Bloody partner in crime and I are fascinated with how inconsistent the classic Bloody Mary tastes from bartender to bartender.    Sure, food and drinks are always subjective, but doesn't the classic Bloody always have the same qualities in common?  It's crazy that maybe 4 out of 5 Bloodies we consume don't exhibit all the traits we crave.

What makes the perfect Bloodie for me?  First, there's the balance between vodka and tomato juice.   Many Bloodies I get are overly watery - the tomato flavor just doesn't come through.   After that, it's all about the ingredients in the mix.    I recently caught my Bloody partner in crime looking through the side of the glass, evaluating the ratio of horseradish, cracked pepper and such within the liquid.  Sometimes you can tell if it's going to be a good Bloody just by looking at it.   

Finally, the  balance of flavors comes next.   The squeeze of citrus, the multiple levels of spiciness (pepper, chili, horseradish, etc) and intangibles like freshness (fresh horseradish makes a huge difference, of course) are certainly factors.

So, considering all this, I felt a bit of pressure when making Bloody Mary's one weekend morning.  Could I live up the standard that I felt so adamantly about?  I hadn't really made a Bloody Mary before, so the pressure was on.

To start things off, I couldn't get my hands on fresh horseradish or Worcester sauce as quickly as I needed to whip up the Bloodies.  To compensate,  I thought about how I could replace the peppery heat of horseradish without substituting with more Tabasco or adding cayenne.   Since the horseradish adds a different sort of heat than a chili, I thought I'd opt for freshly grated ginger.   For a bit of that meaty earthiness that the Worcester normally provides, I broke out the smoked paprika - not enough to overpower the drink, but just a pinch to add a depth of smokiness and complexity.

All I did was grate some fresh ginger on a microplane, which after a few batches (!), ended up being an  essential way to avoid taking big bites of ginger.   The rosemary needs to be be chopped as finely as humanly possible, again to avoid the sometimes unpleasant texture of the herb in the mouth.    A very fine dice of celery was a welcomed bit of freshness in the drink, as was the spicy vinegary kick of Tabasco and the fresh squeeze of lime juice.    The garnish, a wedge of candied ginger, added another welcomed addition of aggressive flavor.

P.S. -  My favorite Bloody Mary these days (actually a Bloody Maria) is at the East Village restaurant Mercadito.  I think its outrageous - cucumber muddled with a smoky, chipotle tomato juice and just the right amount of citrus.  Of course, there's Prune...but sometimes the wait doesn't make sense for me.   

Send me a note or comment on a great Bloody Mary I should try in NYC or Williamsburg, and I'll be sure to tell you what I thought.   

When the Eve is the Main Event

There are a few events I look forward to each year, and there's no doubt that Christmas Eve is at the top of the list.   It's probably no surprise to you that I'd describe it as a food and wine extravaganza.   Add the family and traditions that have seemingly been a part of our Christmas Eve since Italians starting simmering garlic in olive oil, it's such a fantastic night for me that it makes Christmas Day seem like a bit of an afterthought.   (I did not feel this way while I was growing up and waiting for Santa to come the next morning, of course.)

Here are some of this year's highlights.   

Before we get too far into this, you need to know that we follow the Italian tradition of eating only fish on Christmas Eve.  We are not hard core seven fish traditionalists, though I would bet that we do have seven varieties over the course of the night each year.   We are pretty consistent about sticking to the fish tradition, which I've come to enjoy, as it's a challenge to keep the main courses interesting each year.  Well, there was the time that Uncle Beef decided to randomly serve braised beef as a main course, in a controversial maneuver that shocked and appalled everyone over the age of forty.   We don't talk about that often.  (OK, we do.  It was pretty funny).   

The other element that never changes is the pasta course, which is the classic Alio Olio recipe that I've discussed on this site before - simply olive oil, garlic, peperoncino, parsley, parmiginano reggiano and a thin cappellini-like pasta (thicker than angel hair, thinner than spaghetti).   It's a classic dish that I end up craving from time to time, mainly because it reminds me of being a kid on Christmas Eve.    Uncle Beef, in the midst of a few " cool down beers" one year,  added diced pancetta to the pasta that led to raised eyebrows and hidden sighs of pleasure.    While I have been fending off such renegade behavior over the years (such as an unfortunate capers episode and the threat of a sardines), I was greeted this year with a plethora of pancetta and a craving for a return to the renegade pancetta behavior of the past.   I don't fight pork fat - I only crisp it with serve it with a smile on my face.   

Before the pasta course, we had a fantastic mussel soup - possibly my most satisfying bites of this year's dinner.    Judy made a great crab stock, which was added to a base of garlic, ginger, onion, peperoncino and fire roasted canned tomatoes.   After the soup simmers for a while, the mussels and a nugget of butter is added right before serving.   The mussels add their juices to the broth, while the nugget of butter balances out the acidic qualities of the tomato.  A last minute handful of tarragon brought it all together.  (Note:  I was too busy to take a picture of this dish, so the photo is from Judy's mussels from '06.  The version I discuss above was soupier than the picture.  That's for those family members keeping  track of such detail...all two of you.)

The other enduring tradition for our Christmas Eve is wine.    Only recently did the wine quality take off to another level, though I believe the quantity consumed has maintained a fairly consistent level best described as...hmmm....generously foolish.   This year's highlight for me was the 1998 Chateau Angelus Grand Cru Bordeaux from St. Emilion.    I had been holding onto this wine for a while and was happy I brought it, but I had meant to bring a Chateauneuf but grabbed the wrong bottle while rushing out the door.   I didn't realize until we got there that I had brought the Bordeaux, thus embarrassing myself continuously by mentioning Chateauneuf throughout the evening.    Good thing I can cook, eh? Well, at least I could appreciate the amazing, herbacious nose of the Bordeux and the long earthy finish.   

Finally, the main course this year happened to be outrageous.   Judy made a whole salmon stuffed with kashi which was moist and delicious.   The other main was based on a post I had written a long time ago - essentially a recreation of an unbelievable cod dish I had a few years ago at a restaurant called BLT FISH.    The cod is marinated in soy, white vinegar and acacia honey, then broiled and roasted.   The exterior crust is a caramel colored golden brown, while the sauce is salty, sweet and rich.  It's so good that I had to fight off this random Jewish dude who keeps showing up to Christmas Eve dinner, or I think he may have chugged it straight from the pot.

Since I take pride in not following recipes and find the  Food Network only vaguely satisfying, a few people found the fact that this dish came from a recipe and from foodnetwork.com a bit humorous.     Chef Laurent Tourandel, the genius who created this recipe, must have made this dish on a Food Network episode, as googled the dish up popped his recipe on the Food Network.  So, in a nod to my duplicitous actions, I offer you the Chef Tourandel's recipe, courtesy of the Food Network - and take zero credit for the idea.   Make this cod - it's a show stopper.

(NOTE:  Missing from the list of Christmas Eve traditions are the fried smelts.  I would describe them for you, but writing about them makes my stomach turn.  Nothing like gagging on little bones and fishy meat...mmmm.)

Primi, Served as Secondi

There are so many little stories and thoughts about my Italian travels that I've been storing in my mind, but found difficult to turn into individual posts.   Instead, I've prepared a few random little primi and serve them up to you as a more substantial secondi.   

The 1984 Ridge

During my time cooking for the Italian chef at his restaurant during the summer of '06,  he'd always serve me a proper dinner at the tables in the piazza before service.  He'd make me the best dishes on the menu, and I'd sip wine and read under the protection of shade from the summer heat.    On one particular evening, he told me to take anything from his wine cellar.   Thrilled, I spotted a 1984 Ridge Petite Syrah.   Surely I couldn't choose a Cali wine while in Florence, could I? But I loved Petite Syrah, and when would be the next chance for me to have one from the 80s?  So I went for the Petite Syrah.

As the chef  brought out a Chianina steak with porcini for my secondi,   an Italian woman my age sitting close by in the  piazza came up to me and said something in Italian.   I smiled and held up the book I was reading, Heat, which was obviously in English.   She smiled and said in English "Are you a chef?".   I told her about the book and how I was essentially doing the same thing as the author at the restaurant we were sitting in front of.  She pulled up a chair and we chatted for a while.   She was impressed with my knowledge of Italian food and wine.   Well, until she saw the Ridge sitting on the table.   When she heard it was Californian, she became oddly skeptical of me.   Why not drink something Italian...in Italy?  Damn.   Busted.   So I grasped at the last straw.    I offered her a glass, hoping this would speak for itself and somehow justify why I wasn't drinking a Brunello.   She smelled, swirled, sipped....and hated it.   Ciaos and air kisses  followed shortly after.   Damn Americans.

Goat Cheese Ricotta

Pecorino, made from sheep's milk,  is the undisputed king of Tuscany.    The idea of  eating something like goat cheese is so foreign to Tuscans, that my guides thought I'd appreciate a meeting with the most novel cheese maker they knew - a goat cheese producer.   He told me of his struggles to survive - how his friends and the locals thought he was crazy and were not very open to trying new cheeses, and the resulting plight to barely make ends meet.   But his goat cheeses were pristine and phenomenal, while his passion was somehow unaffected by his lack of acceptance.   The cheese was more tangy than grassy, but overall, his story was inspiring.   He showed me how to make a goat cheese ricotta that was amazing...haven't had anything like it since.   I wish I knew where to get my hands on some....

Pasta, Unboiled

One day, the Italian chef asks me if I've ever made dried pasta without boiling it in water.   I didn't respond, just sort of laughed.  I have read about cooking dried pasta in red wine, which infuses the flavor and turns the pasta a haunting purple.   But this Chef was very traditional and took a lot of pride in that, so I thought he was joking.    Without really speaking, he throws whole garlic in olive oil on low heat and removes it a few minutes later.   He puts sliced onions in the oil, sweating them without caramelizing.   In the pan goes fresh tomatoes for a simmer, then some red wine followed by a boil.    He throws in dried penne, covers the lid, and serves the pasta al dente, cooked in the sauce, ten minutes later.   Absolutely delicious.  I need to experiment with this approach more often.

Spoiled with Porcini  

I have always loved porcini.   But my experiences with fresh porcini had been spotty.    I had impeccable raw porcini in a salad at Babbo when I first graduated from college that sent me on a huge porcini obsession.   But then, I'd find fresh porcini in the markets that were old, wet, soggy or dried out and past their prime.  After dish upon dish, crate upon crate of fresh porcini  inspection in the Chef's kitchen in Tuscany,  it hurts me to the core to realize that those perfect, impeccably fresh porcini moments are going to be few and far between for me.    Insert pouting face here.

A Drink to Celebrate Unprincipled Veggies

After a tough year, I began 2007 with a few challenges for myself.   

One of them was to open my mind beyond the preconceived notions of what I thought I needed to be fulfilled and satisfied.  As I had a new social life that I needed to build again, I promised that I wouldn’t be looking for carbon copies of myself to spend time with, which unfortunately had been the standard upon which I measured compatibility. The 2007 version of myself was all about having an open mind, open plans, open to sharing anything.

On the dating front, that turned out to pose interesting dilemmas.  Take, for instance, the fact that I’ve been on dates with three vegetarians.   That’s something I wouldn’t do before this year. I mean….do you read this site?

But being open minded means giving people a chance, even if that means challenging yourself to look beyond what on paper could be a bad match.  Of course, all of them turned out lame.   The last and most recent social experiment was the most ironic of all.   I had to dig deep and attempt to be open minded on a variety of major issues, many of which were way deeper than being a veggie.   It turned out to be an unappreciated attempt, which was slightly comical to me.   I thought people could see when they were asking more of someone and would value the effort.   Weren’t veggies usually the incredibly thoughtful, principled, types?

Despite popular opinion, I’m not against being a veggie.  I love vegetables more than anyone, so I could imagine celebrating them above all else.   But I love bacon, and that’s just in my DNA.  What I can also respect about being a veggie are life decisions based on principles or health related goals.   If someone wants to live a lifestyle free of animal fats and what not, I kind of get that.   Kind of.    Humanitarian issues?  Certainly a point for debate, but one I respect and admire.

But every veggie I’ve met had nothing of substance supporting their lifestyle choices.   The most frequent explanation I’ve heard was “texture” – they didn’t like how certain proteins felt in their mouths.   In fact, this last person wasn’t even committed to being a vegetarian.  She could be talked out of it seemingly at a whim, which I would say ended up being metaphor for issues of greater substance.   Commitments can be tricky, especially when they seem to be rooted in whimsy.

So after the latest and most recent veggie debacle, I’m at the crossroads of whether I’d bother going on a date with another veggie.   Gut instinct says bad match.   But the open-minded me says that would be a shallow move.  When it comes down to it,  it’s not about eating veggies, bacon, or foie gras.  It’s about the substance that lies behind the choices we make.   Veggies with principle and conviction, you still make the cut.   Lucky you (?).

To celebrate the failing of my new open-minded romanticism, I offer you a drink that I’m making at home to ponder my recent veggie follies. Velvet Falernum is an amazingly aromatic simple syrup/alcohol concoction.   You need to track it down – it’s shockingly delicious and completely challenges what you’d expect from a spirit.  It’s almost like a little taste of Fall - bursting with spices, nutmeg, cinnamon and all things that remind you of pumpkin pie, falling leaves and unprincipled vegetarians. 

A recipe for my favorite drink with Velvet Falernum is below.

Liquid Summer Magic

I've experienced a bit of a beverage awakening this summer season.    The kind of awakening that makes me wonder what the hell I've been drinking in summers past.   I thought I'd list of few of my highlights so far. 

Hitachino Nest White Ale

Seriously, I could drink this beer all summer long.   In fact, I would if I could find it consistently.   Hitachino in a bottle is fine, but Hitachino draft is another experience entirely.    Floral, with hints of orange and citrus, Hitachino Nest White Ale is a Belgian style beer that is at the top of my list these days.   It's made by Kiuchi Brewery near Nagano, Japan, and generally pretty difficult for me to track down.   I've had bottles  of the White Ale at Momofuku,  BLT Burger and Mermaid Inn but have only found it on tap at Marshall Stack. 

Seriously, if someone can point me in the direction of a bar pouring White Ale from a keg in NYC, I'd love you (long time).

2006 Kim Crawford Sauvignon Blanc

I'm a huge fan of New Zealand Sauv Blanc.   For around $12, I think the '06 Kim Crawford Sauv Blanc from Marlborough is one of the best values on the market.  Huge hits of grassiness are balanced with a cutting acidity, making a refreshing yet flavorful wine perfect for a meal or just casual sipping.   I have bought a case to hold me through the summer August.   You can find this wine here.

Berritt's Ginger Beer

I've been obsessed with ginger beer for a while now.  Maybe you've noticed.   I like to drink it at home courtesy of the Berritt's brand.  I can usually find them at Whole Foods or Trader Joe's, though less frequently than I'd like.  Since I'm not usually after a Dark and Stormy in the summer, I like to make cocktails with ginger beer, vodka, seltzer and whole pieces of spicy candied ginger.   I am foaming at the mouth even writing about it.   More about Berritt's Ginger Beer here.

Basil Simple Syrup

A friend took me for a cocktail at a North Fork restaurant called The Feisty Oyster earlier in the summer.   I had a  cocktail that consisted of a basil infused simple syrup,  gin,  seltzer and a sprig of rosemary.  It was one of the best cocktails I've had this summer for sure.   Why am I telling you this?  Mainly because this cocktail is a breeze to make at home.  Here's the recipe for a basil simple syrup - give this a try, it's worth the minimal effort.

Gruner Veltliner

It's relatively embarrassing for me to admit that I hadn't had a Gruner Veltliner before 2006.   Not sure why either, as I enjoy Austrian wines in general.  I love the crisp acidity of Gruner, combined with the deep minerality that lends it a powerful yet floral quality.    Gruner is also a great food wine for the summer.  One of my favorites is the 2005 Hiedler Gruner Veltliner Thal Novemberlese, which you can search for here.

That's just a bit of a highlight reel, certainly not a complete list.  White Burgundies, Pims Cups, Blue Moon, Muscato D' Asti and lots of others are for future discussion.  Would love any of your thoughts or suggestions......

The Last Glass of Chianti

Sometimes, enjoying the last glass of a bottle without a friend can be inspiring.  Other times, it can just leave you hanging.  Hanging is where I’m left tonight, so I thought I’d put down a few end-of-the-bottle thoughts for you. (My brain:  “What a bad idea for a post...Perfect!”).

1) I’ve spent the past few days missing a (relative) stranger.

2) If I could be a rock star, it would be Ben Gibbard.

3) I need to use an acid other than citrus to balance my dishes.

4) I wish my blog design matched my personality.

5) I have about five blog crushes. Seems a bit lame, no?

6) I wished I lived in Sonoma and bedazzled guests each day by preparing thoughtful lunches and dinners paired with the wines we made at the winery.

7) Pisoni Pinots – what rock have I been living under?

8) I wish I could convince you to buy a juicer.

9) I’ve coined a few terms for my style of cooking and frequently consider renaming this site based on the style, all of which strikes me as arrogant. I cook beyond the classics, but do I need a restaurant to have a cooking style? Why do I even need a cooking style? Isn’t my style a style of its own?

10) I am at my prime mental peak somewhere between the hours of 8 pm - 12 am. I used to be proud of this, but now I wonder if it’s nothing but a character flaw.

11) I think six or so courses, even small plates, is the max I’d ever serve a human being. If I can’t get to you by six courses, I’ve got no game. You shouldn’t need to stumble home and gain a pound in the morning to wow you...right?

12) Bad Dating tip: The moment you think something is there, just make out. That’s not frat boy talk, it’s an office consensus (women included).

13) I currently have an unwrapped, whole leg of Jambon de Bayonne in my fridge without a slicer or occasion to serve it. For reals.

14) I’ve been told by a wine geek that I’m operating at a 5 out of 10 on the wine geek scale. I think that’s harsh, as I consider my palate at about a 7 or 8. She found my wine geek vocab and regional knowledge (old world especially) to be lacking. Clearly she didn't read this post. I gave her the finger and poured her a Malbec from Argentina.

15) Ok, the bottle of '98 Fontodi Chianti Classico is well and truly done.  Neeext.

Mounting Wine Geek Difficulties

It goes without saying that I tend to spend a lot of time weeding through wine lists when I'm having a big meal at a restaurant. But a recent issue I encountered is just how difficult it is to geek-out on a wine list while on a date.

Conversation flow is obviously important during the first round of getting-to-know-you dates, but my first instinct when the wine list arrives is to plow my way through it in order to come up with a wine game plan for the night.  I began to debate in my mind the merits of NZ Pinot or something bolder, like an Aussie Shiraz.  I began to remember some of the excellent NZ Pinots I enjoyed last year and thought it was such a shame that I'd been neglecting them recently. I then reminded myself that my life sucked as I didn't have a wine cellar at this stage of my life.  I called myself a wine hack or something similar. By the time that all happened, I realized that my nose was buried in the wine list and my date was wearing an expression that seemed to question my status as a participating member of this galaxy. 

Dating tip to self - only minimal wine geekiness can be allowed on the first couple of dates!

Anyhow, I realized that the NZ Pinot on the list called Mt Difficulty was more than fate.  The enjoyable difficulty that I was having in choosing the wine for the night would be resolved by The Mt. Difficulty 2004 Pinot. 

Seriously, this wine is absolutely delicious and recommend you track it down straight away.  This NZ Pinot does a nice job of balancing the finesse of a traditional Pinot with a new world, full, deep finish and an excellent, earthy nose.  To give you a sense of how big this Pinot is, the wine perfectly matched my entree of a snail, oxtail ravioli with smoked paprika oil.  I also anticipate this wine would be an excellent pairing for morels, so I will be certainly tracking this Pinot down for upcoming Spring drinking plans. 

How (Not) To Throw a Chateauneuf Party

I buy my fair share of wine.

Most of it, however, rarely exceeds $25 a bottle.  I've been starting to pick up a few $45 bottles, but those are few and far between.  I exceed the $45 range for special occasions, mostly around the holidays.  (This does not count the ridiculous amount of money I spend on wine in restaurants, which fluctuates daily).  I hope to reverse that trend moving forward. But for now, I can only store twenty four bottles due to NYC apartment life realities, so I tend to drink what I own. 

I decided that a Chateauneuf dinner with friends could be rationalized as a wine holiday, so we went for it.  But the pressure was on...such an investment in your wines means that the stakes have been raised.  This isn't a Rachel Ray $10 a Day wine holiday.  We must do it well.

I had an idea in mind about the proper way to conduct such a tasting.  I thought about how Robert Parker, Jr. might organize such a night with friends at home. 

We then did the exact opposite.

Choosing The Wines

Robert Parker would want to personally select a few bottles carefully tucked away in his cellar from years past.  The kind he shrewdly purchased upon release and appreciates in value and flavor over the years.  Parker selects all of his favorites - he remembers the aroma of the barrel tasting of his best Chat Du Pap and remembers the '95 could be starting to show.  He makes wise choices, and chuckles modestly as his guests laud him for his remarkable cellar.

We received an email blast from Acker Merrall with some aged Chat Du Pape for sale.  We scoured the list for the best vintages, producers and values. We called and had them delivered to us when we needed them, not a day before.  A 2000 Charvin, a '98 Pegau and a '95 Beaucastel were our choices. We sat back and tasted, hoping they'd be ready to drink and lived up to expectations.  That they did - particularly the '98 Pegau which was excellent. 

Advanced Planning

A week or maybe even a few days before the tasting, Robert Parker, Jr. would have a general plan for a menu and details such as when guests would arrive.   He would sit on his cracked leather sofa about a week before the tasting and, while sipping an aperitif, would plan his traditional French menu well in advance.  He'd call his truffle jockey days ahead to procure a fresh basket of the truffles just  picked by his friend Jean Luc in France.   He'd ensure his standing caviar order was en route. 

I would leave the menu up in the air until two days before the tasting, until I tried a chocolate pasta with braised lamb at Falai.  I would definitely make a version of that, as chocolate + beef + Du Pape = a great match.  I would then go to Kitchen Arts & Letters the day before the dinner to find some inspiration.  I picked up Michel Richard's new book, but that deserves its own post.  The night before the dinner, I finally sketch out a menu that had nothing to do with France but all about matching the flavors of the Chateauneuf. 

Keep It Simple, Keep It French

When the truffle jockey arrives with the truffles, he has the nerve to ask Mr. Parker if he would be making a pasta or risotto with the truffles for his Chat Du Pap dinner.  Parker signs in disbelief, adjusts his beret, then begins to ramble about his trip to his friend Jean Luc's estate in the Rhone, where he wistfully remembers bathing in '64 Beaucastel while enjoying a traditional cassoulet that was the only pairing with wine from the Rhone.

I would think briefly about making a French focused menu, but I'd quickly change directions.   

I'd caramelize cauliflower and serve it on a cauliflower puree, sprinkled with toasted pine nuts and  currents. I had to do a version of Falai's pasta.  I made thick strands of cocoa infused pasta with braised short ribs and a reduction of the short rib braising juices.  The most well-received dish I am making these days is my mushroom curry crusted pork, which was a nice pairing for the wines.  I made a  creamy chocolate, curry, mint ice cream that I imagined enjoying with our final glasses of the Pap.

Table Conversation, Etc

Overheard at Robert Parker's table:

RP Friend:  "This wine is a blockbuster.  A hedonistic, full bodied bombshell with aromas of tobacco, smoked hickory and a finish of leather, cow hide and freshly picked baby chanterelles in the mourning dew. This wine is just opening now, but could easily be better in 20 years."

RP: "98."

Overheard at our Table:

Erin: "This wine smells like poopy."

Whitney: "Doody!"

Erin and Whitney:  [insert girlish giggling around the words poopy and doody here].

Overheard at Parker's Table:

RP Friend: "The cassoulet is phenomenal, Rob.  Really, just fantastic.  And the truffles! It's as if Baby Jesus just blessed me with a gift from the Rhone!"

Overheard at Our Table:

"No more pork? What do you mean, just enough?"

Background Music and Atmosphere:

Robert Parker selects a soft falsetto phenom from his collection.  He once met the vocalist at a fancy dinner in France.  An inspired, quivering voice, she balances finesse and harmony like the '60 Beaucastel Parker remembers savoring when he first graced her presence. [insert puking noise followed by a toilet flush here].

We go for cooking mixes and football.

Conclusions

You deserve a wine holiday as well, do you? Well, dream on. Save up.  Go to Acker Merrall or another reputable wine shop and buy a few excellent bottles that you would not typically purchase for yourself.  Make it known to your wine professional that this is the case and be very excited.  They will like this.   Make the best possible dinner you can.  When planning the menu, add one more course to what you would normally serve.  Considering adding another.    Invite friends over who would appreciate your wine holiday as much as you will (and possibly bring more great wine). 

And think about what Robert Parker would do. 

Then do the opposite.

Lost in Montalcino

We decided to take a day trip from our villa in Umbria to Montalcino, home of Brunello.  I was very excited about this trip, mainly because I knew it would be as beautiful as the wine would be fantastic.  I was also hoping to taste a few Brunellos that I hadn't tried before.

After enjoying a long lunch and wine tasting, we began to make plans to visit a vineyard.  We quickly realized that most required advanced reservations, including a few that I was very excited about visiting.  It was looking like the only option was going to the massed produced, American owned Banfi vineyards.  Gah.  Oh well, would be fun anyway.

As we drove out of town, we quickly move from paved roads to twisting, winding dirt roads surrounded by lush vineyards.  We were following Cousin Michael, who somehow beat us from Umbria to Montalcino despite leaving well later than us.  So he had earned the navigation stripes (not a hard task with our crew, me being the absolute worst) and he was leading us with a vineyard map in hand.  But after a while of dirt-filled, I-can-barely-see-the-road-in-front-of-me driving, we stopped at a random house to regroup and look at the map. 

We were parked in the driveway of the house featured to the right, wondering where to go next.  Out of the house comes a young woman and an older man.  My NYC instincts sent me running back to my car, but the woman spoke English and began speaking with Cousin Michael. She was savvy enough to understand that we were clueless tourists looking for vino and said they had a winery and could taste some of their wines.  Michael turns around for approval and we give him a big thumbs up.   At this point, we don't even know the name of the winery we are visiting.  I personally found this thrilling but I had rather low expectations. I rarely have good luck in these types of situations.

We drive a bit further down to their winery.  When we get there, we realize the English speaking girl is the daughter of the family.  We are joined by her mother, who doesn't speak English but is very accommodating and looking to get us some glasses.  She clearly had been out in the vineyards most of the day.  We begin to hear about their winery as we walk back to the barrels in which they were aging their wines. 

They were a family producer of Brunello and had opened the facility we were in only a few years ago.  Angelo Sassetti, her father, was the winemaker and the namesake of the wines they produced.  His father had been making wine from the same estate, but you could tell that this new winery was a big deal for the family.  It was modest but modern and well kept.  As we began to taste the wine from the barrels, Angelo joined us. 

This is a corny thing to say, but all of us agreed Angelo was adorable.  You can't tell from the picture at the right, but he has the biggest cheeks, almost like a child.  Yet he had clearly been working in the vineyard all day, day after day, and his work clothes were filled with dust and his cheeks were burnt red with sunburn.  By simply looking at him, I could see the amount of hard work he and his family put into their craft.  Funny how I can be inspired by someone without even speaking the same language.

We tasted their Brunellos from the barrel while Angelo's daughter translated back and forth between our group and Angelo.  He explained to us how bad the 2002 vintage was for him and all of Montalcino and how he couldn't make wines for that year.  We couldn't help but think how such a  bad year can heavily impact a small, family run vineyard like theirs.  Angelo explained they would release their earlier vintages more strategically to make up for the difference, but even without speaking English, you could read the disappointment on his face.

We tasted every single wine they seemed to have in the winery.  The best wine we tasted was the Angelo Sassetti 2000 Brunello di Montalcino, which was only selling for 16 Euros.   This brunello wasn't a classic brunello to me.  It was not a huge, tannic wine that needed to age for the rest of my lifetime.  It was fruity and lush, yet it had nice firm tannins, nice oakiness and a long finish.  We bought a lot of it to drink during our stay at the villa.  I recommend it to you, biased by the welcoming, charming and personal experience the Sassetti family provided for us. 

In trying to track down more information and a link where you can buy a bottle here in the U.S., I found out here (scroll down) that Angelo and his brother seemed to have a difference in wine making styles.  Apparently his brother produces another Sassetti wine from their Pertimali estate in a more traditional Brunello style.

Read more about Angelo Sassetti here.  And if you are interesting in buying a few bottles, I tracked down the wines at Mario Batali owned Italian Wine Merchants. 

Another New World Chard

ed: This post was originally published in July 2005. I'm on vacation, yo.

I tend to get obsessed with specific wine varieties or regions and focus on them for a while before moving on to others that grab my attention. 

Last summer, it was Rieslings.  The summer before, Viognier. This winter, it was Argentina.  Now it's new world Chardonnay.  My wine focuses tie directly to experiences.  We went to Sonoma recently, where I became enamored with comparing as many of the Chard and Pinot producers that I could (we also brought back a 1/2 case of wines as well).

New world Chards are offensive to French Chard lovers, mainly because they are full of huge yeasty flavors (like buttered popcorn) and oak.  Sometimes, they can be over the top, at the expense of the natural flavors of the grape.  I love French Burgundy, but I also believe there is a taste and flavor appropriate for a range of drinking occassions.  The new world whites are excellent compliments to buttery, savory fish and vegetable dishes throughout the summer.  Further, they are excellent drinking without food. I know that sounds like rubbish, but they are so flavorful that I often enjoy them on their own, with little nibbles here and there.

I am currently enjoying the 2001 Casa Lapostolle, Cuvee Alexandre, from Chile (Cuvee Alexandre, to my tastes, is much better than Lapostolle's other Chard options) .  While I wondered whether 2001 for a Chard would be OK, it is still drinking very well.  And for only $15. You can pick it up right now at Beacon Wines in NYC.

ed: I have tried the 2004 from the same label and am really enjoying it right now as well.  I served it at our June 11 foodie event and received positive reviews of this wine.  Great for summer!

A Buttery Fresh Pear

I enjoy when wine geeks make crazy analogies about what a specific wine tastes like to them.  Some of the most enjoyable descriptions and analogies are the kind you never see attached to your name in print.

But since I enjoy being the butt of jokes, I'll actually make a geeky analogy about the flavor profile of a wine I am very much enjoying right now.  It's the 2003 Landmark Overlook Chardonnay from Sonoma.  It's a fantastic wine that is buttery, rich with a nicely balanced brightness that is far from being overoaked.  In describing how this wine tastes, I was thinking about butter. And fresh fruit. I think I'd say that this wine tastes like a fresh slice of pear being dunked in drawn butter.  Now that is kind of disgusting to me and I'm not sure I'd want to eat that, but the buttery, fresh, crisp nature of this wine leads me to make this (foolish?) analogy.   I have enjoyed the Landmark with a morel tart and many of the spring treats I've been making recently.  For about $20, this is a nice pick up for the warm weather months ahead. Find it here.

Fav Leflaive

In the need of a last minute restaurant option while walking around the SoHo area, we landed at Aquagrill.  I hadn't eaten there in close to 5 years (other than an oyster pitstop), mainly because there are more exciting menus to seek out these days.  But being in the area and not willing to wait at Blue Ribbon or plunk down a wad at Fiama, I went with what I knew to be a safe choice with Aquagrill. 

Maybe I'll discuss the restaurant soon, but for me the real standout of the experience was the 2003 Olivier Leflaive from Saint Aubin.  This White Burgundy from Puligny-Montrachet is a 1st Cru, therefore not even close to the top of the line Grand Cru Montrachets that Leflaive produces.  I've tasted some Grand Cru Burgundies both young and old and they are generally worth their hefty price tag.  But I decided that for $50 ish at Aquagrill, we'd try this 1st Cru along with the seafood/spring focused menu.  It was an excellent wine.  Buttery and rich, yet with nice acidity, this wine could have been confused with a modern California Chardonnay.  I know French Chardonnay lovers would bitch-slap me for saying that, but whatever.   Many recent California Chardonnays I have tasted have been very sensitive about the over-oakiness feedback they have been receiving over the years, having replaced the oakiness with an acidic, bright finish to balance their richness.  While I found this Leflaive less buttery and even a touch nutty in comparison to a traditional Cali Chard, I would be bullshitting you if I told you I could tell the difference in a blind tasting.  Anyhow, I loved this wine and tracked it down for $30 a bottle.  Buy a few and enjoy this over the course of spring with dishes like poached morels and ramps.  I also plan on drinking this wine with fresh, creamy corn over the summer.  You NYCers can find this wine here. 

2004 Terrazas Malbec Reserva

This is a biased post.

I am going to tell you I love the 2004 Terrazas Malbec Reserve because of the fact that it is has a deep, intense oaky fruitiness that lasts for maybe 10 seconds after the wine has left your mouth.  I'll tell you that it only costs about $13 in retail shops as another reason for my love of this wine. 

But the reality is that every time I drink it, I am reminded of an amazing trip to Argentina last year where we took a tour of the Terrazas vineyard and watched the guys pluck grapes from the vines during the harvest in February.   I also think about the fact that the wine cost only a few dollars down there, and we drank it while in an airport cafe waiting for a plane. Those were the days.   

I served this wine at our last foodie with pork.  We also enjoyed it over Easter with a rich lasagna.  Track this one down for an everyday, affordable wine that delivers a big bang for the buck.  Find it here.

1998 Joseph Phelps Cabernet

I have been known to transport wine across the world, in an effort to bring home favorites that I wasn't sure I could find back in NYC.  That has included many bottles from Argentina, a few keepers from Sonoma, and a couple of wines we loved from a trip to Napa.  Back then (2002), wine shops wouldn't ship to certain states and many wines were harder to find in NYC.  The web has changed that, thanks to sites like wine-searcher.com and the loosening of wine shipping regulations.  With friends over for dinner a few nights ago, I thought it was the perfect time to break out a stashed Napa bottle.  The Joseph Phelps 1998 Cab was a good wine that we'd tasted at their vineyard, though I knew that 1998 was a subpar year for Cab in Napa.  But it was a highlight from an amazing experience we had at the Phelps winery, and that's the reason we bought it.  Overlooking vineyards on their terrace on a crisp, sunny day in the wine country (while tasting a few vintages of the Phelps Insignia, nonetheless) was an experience to remember.  One that had been symbolized in a good but not great bottle of wine that has been stored for years as a keepsake (of course, there are also amazing pictures but none shot digitally...gasp! the horror! ).  The picture on the label was very similar to the view I remember from the Phelps winery - but who knows, I was drunk (that was a joke.  sort of.)

Anyway, we just cracked this wine and it was amazing.  I can't stand young, huge, tannic Cali Cabs. I tend to avoid ordering them in restaurants or drinking them at home, to be honest. Waiting at least a few years until the wine mellows and rounds out a bit is a great idea.  The wine was powerful with a long, fruity, oaky finish -  yet it was softer, with less tannin than what I had remembered.  I decanted it for 1 hour before serving and it was fantastic with a mushroom and ricotta gnudi I made.  You can probably track it down for about $40 a bottle.  But to be honest, I'm hoping you just pick up a nice Cab sometime and store it for a few years.  Who knows, maybe you'll not only enjoy a much improved wine but also a few sunny memories from your past. 

 

2001 Spanish Gem: Dominio DeTares Cepas Viejas

It's pretty hard to go wrong with a 2001 wine from Spain. 

I have heard many great things about this vintage, so while perusing a wine list recently, I jumped on this Dominio De Tares Cepas Viejas without knowing anything about it, mainly because it was a 2001 and was less than $50 on the wine list.

Yup, sometimes that is my wine list strategy.  At least it gives me a specific wine to ask the sommelier or server about. If they recommend something else in the same flavor profile, budget or region that's great.  I try to give them something to work from and go from there.

This wine was fantastic.  Black cherry and fruit, subtle hints of smoke with a long finish.  Enough acidity to age very well, but juicy enough to drink and enjoy right away.

It's also a great find for a restaurant wine list, if you spot it.  Currently sells in retail for $22-25 - check it out here.

2003 Luca Syrah from Mendoza

Luca is one of my favorite Argentinian producers.  When we visited Mendoza last year,  I was on a search for Luca, as I'd read rave reviews before my trip.   

But when I got to Argentina, I couldn't get a tour at the producer,like we did for many of our other favorite labels.  Luca's grapes are sourced from many vineyards and they didn't have a winery that accepted visits at the time.  In fact, tour guides that gave private and custom wine tours hadn't even heard of Luca, even though these wines are made by the well know winemaker Susana Balbo.   That's mainly because Luca's wines were primarily made to be exported.  This was not uncommon to us.  Many of the traditional wineries made more expensive, premium wines that were mostly exported to the U.S.   On wine shop shelves across Mendoza or Buenos Aires, we'd mostly see very young and inexpensive varieties by the tried and true old school producers everyone knows and loves in Argentina.   At restaurants, we'd see more of the same but with expensive older vintages.  But rarely the "exported" labels or producers, like Luca.  Unfortunately, this was more of a statement on the economic standing of the country.  To many, spending more than 10 pesos on wine is ridiculous.  And let's face it - that can be just as good on a daily basis anyway.

This Luca is not a Malbec (even though Luca Malbecs I've tried are excellent).  We tried lots of varieties in Argentina beyond Malbec and they are doing grapes like Syrah, Cabs and even Tempranillos to nice results as well. In fact, many of our favorite wines were Malbec/Cab blends. This Luca Syrah is deep and brooding, inky and rich in color, with a fantastic long finish.  With a nice balance of oak and tannins, this will age well.   Let this puppy breathe for a half hour or so after opening, it needs it.   Don't balk at the $30 - it's a great wine. Here's where you can get it.

 

A $10 Wine That Made Me Drool

I've had the 2004 Tres Picos Garnacha from Spain a few times now and was absolutely shocked at what I tasted on both occasions.   To me, this wine is too good to be sold for $10.  In fact, I think it's a mistake that someone will end up noticing, with the wine being recalled, given a new price of $20 with a big "Sorry, Came To Our Senses" note attached to each new bottle. But hey, whatever, I'm not complaining.  I'm down with value and this wine will make you feel like you're in on a big scam.   How the hell could a wine this good be so affordable? The Tres Picos has a fruit focused nose with deep hints of oak, without a lot of the tannin/alcohol I expected in a young wine.  The finish is fantastic - again rich, powerful, deep fruit and oak. There's a hint of tannin for balance, but this finish is very approachable, easy drinking and focused on the fruit.  The wine is purple and inky, deep and brooding in color.   Each time I've had this wine, both myself and the drunkards enjoying it with me had to be dragged away from the bottle. Here's a list of stores that carry it around the country.

'Tis the Most Shizzle Bedizzle Time of the Year

Special occasions call for special wines. Well, at least with my family and friends, which is to say I'm a lucky dude.  I contribute by doing most of the cooking and even bringing a few bottles myself now and then.

This Xmas blew me away more than any other in the wine department.  My body has been soaked in a tasting of three New World Pinots (including an amazing 2000 Sine Qua Non, which one taster - fine, it was me- rightly summed up as "the shizzle"), an insane 2000 Bordeaux ("shizzle bedizzle"), a fine Burgundy ("will be the shizzle with more aging"), a tasting of three Spanish wines from the excellent 2001 vintage and an amazing '95 Pahlmeyer Cab from Cali ("another shizzle bedizzle"). 

Wine lovers and those curious about the new foodienyc wine rating system based on lame Snoop Ebonics should follow the jump for more details....

Henry's Drive 2002 Shiraz

Other than fascinating me by interchanging a's with er's (and vice versa) at the end of their words, the many Aussies I work with are generally the most happy-go-lucky people I've ever met.  Come across Australians while traveling outside of the country, and they are the first to say hello and have a drink with you.  I joke with all of them that Australia is party central, and they never disagree.

Well, my idea of an Australian party is drinking their amazing Shiraz all night. I don't care what the wankas or tossas say about Aussie Shiraz being over-oaked or overripe.  I find them amazingly flavorful with deep long finishes, and of course the oakiness they've become somewhat known for.  One of the best I've had is from Henry's Drive. 

I splurged a year ago and picked up a couple of bottles for $30+ each (this is expensive for me. i am not a collector yet, wine snot).  I cracked the first with a rich dish of braised beef in chipoltle.  I would argue that a dish with smoky, rich, spicy flavors needs a New World wine and indeed I am yet to be incorrect on this.  The 2002 Henry's Drive Shiraz (not the Reserve, which I've heard is even better) has a long, intense, ripe fruit finish that we truly enjoyed.  If you own it or buy it, note that you must let this breathe for at least 30 minutes.  The difference is substantial.  Worthy of the price,  here's where you can track it down.

Excellent Zin from Sonoma

This is a classic Zin from Sonoma.  Huge fruity explosions of fruit, oak and earthiness, along with a decent amount of alcohol.  What I love about Zins are the big, long finishes and the Hartford 2003 from Russian River Valley has this in spades. 

I do not agree with critics of Cali Zins that suggest their dominant flavors aren't fit for food, as compared to Old World techniques with more finesse.  You just need to know what to serve with a huge, dominent wine like this.  Beef, bacon, creamy, smoky.  You get the idea. But an aggressive wine like this also takes to alternative flavors that an Old World wine would never be paired with.  Take curry, for instance.  Dominant flavors of sage and rosemary.  Chipolte.  Smoky bacon or sausage.  Merguez.  Charchoal 'Q.  I could go on and on.  So I recommend you track down this Hartford and enjoy it with big, rich, distinctive flavors and revel in being over the top for a night.   Trust me, outrageous works in moderation.

Behrens & Hitchcock 2000 Syrah

I was lucky enough to enjoy the Behrens & Hitchcock 2000 Syrah from the Alder Springs Vineyard in Mendocino.  Amazing.  The wine was a remarkable deep purple and had a haunting, rich finish that seemed to last an eternity in my mouth. Nice tannins and while just a baby, it's drinking very well right now.  We opened this wine before dinner, had a taste, then drank the rest after dinner a few hours later.  The three hours of breathing time allowed the wine to mellow a bit and improved the finish as well.

Classic Rioja

I've been stacking up on Spanish wines after our trip this summer to Barcelona and San Sebastian, where I tasted multiple bottles of excellent wines a day. (It was a wedding weekend, give me a break).

I recently picked up a few bottles of the Marques de Riscal Reserva 2000, as it is one of the oldest and most respected names in Rioja.  It's exactly what I'd expect of a classic Rioja Reserva.  It has the oakiness you'd expect from the years it spent aging in the barrel, but it is also very juicy and fruity.  Nice long finish, slightly peppery and chocolately in my opinion, with nice tannis for aging.

Here's where you can find this wine.  I paid about $16 + for it, which is a worthy value considering how much I enjoyed it.

Magnificent Malbec

I first tried a BenMarco malbec from Argentina at Little Giant a year or so ago, even though I've read about it for a few years now. I think it was the 2002 I tried that night and it was amazing.  Deep, rich fruit with a big finish and not too tanic or with the overpowering alcohol in the nose or finish, like I experience with lots of other New World wines.

I tracked down BenMarco at Astor Wine.  While it's the 2003 vintage, it still has all of the magic of the 2002.  It's a perfect Fall wine with a big plate of pasta. More on the pasta later.

Petit Verdot from Alexander Valley

The 2001 Murphy-Goode Petit Verdot was a wine we picked up from a recent trip to Sonoma.  I haven't since seen it in retail shops here in NYC, but would jump on the chance to pick up a few bottles again.  I generally agreed with the winemaker notes, including the fact that it had a really long, nice finish:

Winemaker, David Ready Jr. notes:
“Here is a well structured wine with uncommon breadth and depth, a concentrated mouthful of cocoa, black cherry and plum flavors. The silky smooth tannins, lasting finish and weight of this wine promise a long life.”

We had this with a beefy ribeye steak - stood up to the flavors perfectly.

Dissed in Barcelona

Just back from Barcelona and San Sebastian - sorry for the infrequent posting.  A quick story from our trip regarding Rioja wine.  We had an amazing meal at a restaurant in Barcelona, one of the best meals of our trip.  One of the wines we had chosen, La Rioja Alta Reserve 1998, really impressed us.   Deep oaky flavors, nice tannin, great aging potential at a very affordable price. The next day, we were walking around Barcelona and stumbled into a nice looking wine shop.   We walked around and found this wine in the store for $22 Euros - great compared to the restaurant price. I snatched a bottle to bring back to NYC.  Upon bringing it to the register, the shop owner proceeded to give me a ten minute lecture about how this was an old fashioned Rioja, not made in the modern style.  It was inferior and the old school wine making techniques were an embarrassment to other up and coming Spanish wine regions. He then tried to convince me to select an alternative at the same or lesser price.  I couldn't help thinking that I really enjoyed this wine.  While its interesting to compare wine making styles, if I liked this wine then that's good enough for me. I told him no thanks, and he told me not to hold it up as an example of Spanish wine when I got back to the U.S.  But I will anyway, because it was excellent!

Fantastic Sonoma Pinot

We brought back this 2003 Orogeny Pinot from Sonoma a few months ago.  I admittedly didn't have a good grasp on the Sonoma Pinots that rarely make their way into NYC retail shops or that cost an insane price at a fancy restaurant.  We picked this beauty up for $20, after I did some research via Robert Parker about some producers in my price range to look out for on the trip.  I'll be sure to try and track some more down. Here's a list of shops around the country that carry it.