Cooking Off The Land April 27, 2010
Posted by davidandcecy in Food, Travel, Wine.1 comment so far
(First printed in Wine Republic Magazine)
One of the great things about cooking is the chance to experiment with exotic ingredients, integrating new flavors into familiar recipes or sometimes creating something entirely original. Even in the modern world of globalized shopping, where it seems like you can find just about anything in your local grocery store, there is an amazing diversity of flavor out there that stays local. Here in Argentina, most travelers will recognize the produce they see at the local market, but there are still a few items that may whet your interest as well as your appetite!
Here are two recipes that you may enjoy– both featuring one distinctive local ingredient– along with a wine pairing suggestion to complete the experience. If you’re reading this on the plane, don’t despair– while you can’t bring back produce (a big no-no at customs), you can definitely find the wine and reproduce these with domestic substitutes!
Pollo al Horno con Aji y Nectarinas (Roasted Chicken with Chilis and Nectarines)
- 1 medum-sized chicken, whole
- 1 large onion, sliced into half-moons
- 2-3 ripe nectarines, sliced 5mm
- 2-3 cloves garlic, chopped
- 1 lemon, juiced
- 1 bottle of South American aji, chili sauce with vinegar
- 1/4 cup brown sugar, or regular if not available
- 1 Tbs. salt
- 1 Tbs. black pepper, course
- 1/2 tsp. soy sauce (optional)
The Argentineans don’t love their hot chilies the way their Latin American neighbors do, but there is still a place in every home for the bottle of aji– puréed red pepper sauce with vinegar and spices. You can get a bottle about anywhere for 4-10 pesos, and the heat is moderate so it doesn’t overwhelm the flavor of the chilies themselves. This is a chicken dish pairing the fresh piquant flavor of the aji with something sweet, a great flavor combination for the grill or oven.
If you’re buying a chicken in Argentina, look for one with pale color and a fresh smell, preferably well-refrigerated. Chicken is great for this dish because it acts like a canvas for whatever flavors you decide to use, in this case the sweet/spicy duet. The nectarines carry the “sweet” supporting role because they’re rich and flavorful but not too citrusy. They should be ripe if you can get them, but if not, don’t despair: you can soften them up by sautéing on low heat with a little oil (see below).
1. Prep the chicken: take the innards bag out of the center cavity and run some hot water through the inside of the chicken to clean out any residuals. Then, place the chicken in a bag or a deep bowl to marinate with the sauce; if you don’t have time to marinate, skip this step and move on to the oven.
2. Mix the sauce: slice the nectarines thin (5 mm or 1/4 inch) and sautée in a sauce pan on low heat with a little oil until soft– remember, you’re not frying them, just softening to release the flavor and make it easier to mash up. Spoon the slices into a mixing bowl and add the aji, lemon juice, sugar, raw garlic and olive oil, mixing well. If you have a blender or food processor, you have the option of blending everything together for a thicker sauce, but I like leaving some of the slices of nectarine intact. Add the salt and black pepper to taste. (Be careful with the soy sauce, if you use it; I use a little to add a weighty, smokey base, but too much and it will blunt the vibrant red color of the necatarine-aji combo.)
3. Baste and bake: If you have time, place the chicken in a bag or bowl to marinate with the sauce. If not, just make sure to spoon sauce over the chicken as it bakes every 10 minutes. When you’re ready, place the chicken in the center of a baking pan or bowl and cover with the sauce. It should be thick enough that some of it will coat the top. Place on the lower shelf of the oven and cook at 375˚ for 30-40 minutes, depending on the size of the chicken. To test for done-ness, pierce the side under the wing and look for clear juice to come out. If you see pink, give it another 5-10 minutes and test again.
4. Wine Pairing: It’s chicken, right, so that means white? Not so fast. While a heavy Malbec or Bornarda typical to Mendoza would probably overpower the lighter essence of the chicken, you still want something that’s going to stand up to the potent sauce you’re making. Fortunately, Mendoza offers you a wonderful alternative: the Malbec Rose. Here’s a light wine you can chill– perfect for summer– but that gives you some nice tannins to work with too. Rather than white wine florals and fruits, a good dry rosé can offer you a bouquet of rose petals, herbs and strawberries or pink grapefruit. Perfect to pair with the heavier, sweeter flavors of the sauce! Both Enrique Foster (Luján de Cuyo) and Bodegas Salentein (Valle de Uco) make a nice Rosé Malbec that you can find at good wine shops and that isn’t too hard on the wallet (about $30-40 pesos). But feel free to experiment!
Batatas Con Aceite Y Romero (Sweet Potatoes with Oil and Rosemary)
- 3-4 medum-sized batatas, peeled and sliced into discs
- 1 large onion, sliced into half-moons
- 2-3 cloves garlic, chopped
- 1/2- 1 Tbs. coarse sea salt
- 1 Tbs. black pepper, course
- 1 Tbs. rosemary
- 2-3 Tbs. extra virgin olive oil
Batata is the Spanish word for sweet potato, and the word comes from the language of the indigenous Taíno people who used it as a staple in their cooking. The Argentine version is very similar to the ones you might buy in your local supermarket, but with a slightly different color (white-gray versus orange) and a more starchy, less-sweet flavor. The key to preparing this dish is again, to complement the natural sweetness of the batatas with something interesting and distinctive. In this case, we’ll use rosemary (romero) and olive oil, which together with the salt give you a sharp herbal flavor up front, followed by the creamy sweetness of the potato itself.
1. Prep the batatas: remember that just like potatoes, batatas require a bit more time to cook, so the thinner you slice them the easier it is. About 1/4 inch thick should be fine. It’s up to you whether to peel the potatoes; the skin has some nice vitamins but can also hold on to some residual dirt. If you keep the skins, give them a good scrub with the rough side of a sponge. As you slice them, put them in a bowl of cold water: they won’t taste any different, but they’ll look nicer if you keep them from oxidizing.
2. Fry on medium heat: Add the olive oil to the pan and when it’s hot enough to slide around rapidly, add the potatoes, onions and garlic. It will help to use a wok or a non-stick saucepan so you can have the space to stir. Use enough oil to coat the slices and keep them from burning, but not more. Cover the pan to seal in the moisture, and when the batatas are about halfway cooked (about 5 min), add the rosemary too. You can actually add the rosemary earlier, just be careful not to have any burn as it will change the flavor.
3. Serve and Enjoy: When the potatoes are cooked through and have a nice roasted glaze, add some of the rough sea salt and pepper. Go easy at first: salt is a great invention but you want to just bring out the rosemary flavor, not more.
4. Wine Pairing: What to pair with a starchy vegetable dish? Well, you can easily use a Chardonnay or Viognier– the rosemary pairs nicely with the crisp acids– or you can reach for a heavier red to work with the sweet potato side. Certainly a lighter Malbec would do fine, but also look into a Bornarda or a Tempranillo– varietals that are becoming increasingly popular in Mendoza as winemakers experiment with the combination of land and grapes and sun. For whites, the Lagarde Viognier 2008 is one great choice: a fantastic floral embrace that really shows how the Argentine tierra (land) can change the expression of a well-known varietal. Mendoza of course has all sorts of great Chardonnays– but if one had to narrow it down, a bottle of Luigi Bosca’s Finca La Linda Unoaked Chardonnay 2009 would do great, a fresh and unoaked wine with notes of lemon and green apples. For reds, the Durigutti Bonarda 2007 is a great expression of the varietal with a heavenly nose of raspberries, herbs, and spice. Or, you could opt for the now famous Punto Final Malbec 2008 from Renacer, a hefty but not overwhelming Malbec that has become a standardbearer for the region. All of these can be found in local specialized wine shops (don’t bother looking at the supermarket), and are very reasonable for the price point (typically between $30 and $45 pesos). Any way you go, you’ll enjoy the experience of new flavors both for the food and the wine!
Vines of Mendoza: The Inside Story March 1, 2010
Posted by davidandcecy in Brilliant Ideas, Travel, Wine.add a comment
Another DC refugee finds solace in wine and another continent: the inside story behind The Vines of Mendoza project…
“To entertain visiting investors and lure new ones, Evans converted an old Spanish Colonial house into a tasting room and built a wine store and bar, featuring 100 Argentinean varieties, in the Park Hyatt Mendoza. The surrounding area isn’t shabby, either. In October Seattle technology executive Michael Brochu and his wife rode horses to survey their 5-acre plot tended by Evans. They stayed overnight in a nearby stone casita, ate steak at an Argentinean barbecue and put back a lot of wine. “I can’t say I’ve had as much fun with any other investment,” gushes Brochu. Evans is having fun, too. Last year Vines of Mendoza generated $3.7 million in revenue, down 30% from 2008. About 80% came from selling the plots.
Launching a wine empire was a huge leap for Evans, who had bounced around for 20 years working political campaigns, doing business development for a few technology startups and running the foundation arm of the trade group for the wireless-communication industry. When Kerry lost in 2004, Evans was renting an apartment in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. and most of his belongings were in storage. On a whim he met up with David Garrett, an old friend, in Buenos Aires. The pair took a wine-tasting class, and their instructor suggested they look up wine expert Pablo Gimenez-Riili, who gave them a tour of his family’s vineyard in Mendoza. “A lightbulb went off,” recalls Evans. “The combination made me think that Mendoza is Napa Valley 35 years ago.”"
http://www.forbes.com/forbes/2010/0301/second-acts-wine-mendoza-malbec-planting-roots.html
Aglianico, Canniolo and Other Wines That Changed My Life December 20, 2009
Posted by davidandcecy in Brilliant Ideas, Culture, Travel, Wine.Tags: Aglianico, Amarone, Barolo, Basilicata, Bisceglia Aglianico del Vulture, Falernian, grapes, Italy, Nerello Mascalese, Pinot Noir, Sangrantino di Montefalco, Valpollicella, Wine
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When it comes to wine, the Italians consider Italy to be an entire world onto itself– and not without some justification. A good restaurant here will feature the best selections from all around the country, with perhaps a modest “international section” at the end with a few choices from California, Australia and even France. In the US, the well-known regions such as Chianti, Montalcino and Barolo tend to dominate the public consciousness. But it turns out that every province of Italy makes wine– good wine– and some of these are worth seeking out precisely because they’re not as famous.
Consider Aglianico: a grape (and wine) that when made well, tastes like no other. Think of the particular smoothness of Pinot Noir combined with the structure and richness of something more forceful, like a Barolo. Grown primarily in the Campania and Basilicata regions, this grape is one of many that originated in Greece and was brought to Italy by Greek settlers. The name may be a corruption of Vitis hellenica (Latin for “Greek vine”), or it may come from a corruption of Apulianicum, the Latin adjective describing the whole of southern Italy. In Ancient Rome the grape was the basis for one of the most famous wines– Falernian– and was subject of commentary by Pliny the Elder, a famous historian and winemaker in his own right.
Aglianico today is the basic grape for Basilicata’s only DOC wine, Aglianico del Vulture– so-named because it is grown in the fertile volcanic soil surrounding Mount Vulture. In Campania, Aglianico is grown in the area around the village of Taurasi; it’s also grown in the nearby small provinces of Benevento and Molise. I managed to track down a great example of Aglianico in the US (as any I’ve had here in Italy): look for Bisceglia Aglianico del Vulture 2006, for about $16. Worth finding!
Another interesting exploration is Valpollicella, a blend of Corvina Veronese, Rondinella, and Molinara (yes, those are grapes!) named after the marble-rich region in Verona where it is grown. Valpolicellas are often described as light and fragrant, although good examples also have a heavier bacon fat and basalmic vinegar flavor in the background. For something very distinct, and different, it’s worth finding– and at a price that won’t kill you. Valpolicella as a region also has a long and noble history, having appeared in charters of the mid 12th century– its etymology is unknown but might derive from the Latin for “Valley of Cellars.” Valpollicella is essentially the lighter, younger version of the more regal (and expensive) Amarone, which is aged for at least five years and hence demands twice the price.
Moving right along… to Sangrantino, Umbria’s native grape and still mostly unknown outside Italy. It might be hard to find, but fans of a heartier, meatier red will enjoy the earthy depth of this wine. The grape is one of the most tannic varieties in the world, and creates wines that are inky purple– almost-black– with a strength of about 14%. The bouquet is of dark, brooding red fruits with hints of plum, cinnamon, and earth. The Sagrantino di Montefalco DOCG rules require 100 percent Sagrantino, with a required 29 months aging before release. At it’s best– well-made and aged 10 years– it takes on the more admirable qualities of a good Tuscan. Admittedly, prices have shot up after quality and fame improved, but you can still reasonably get a good bottle here for around €15-20. The best might be Milziade Antano, a small producer near Bevagna, while Adanti and Ruggeri also produce amazing examples of this grape. Can you find it in the States? Don’t know!
Finally, consider a wine from the cutting edge of the Italian wine world– reclaimed native grapes in the volcanic soil of Mt. Etna in Sicilia, known as Nerello Mascalese. This is an area that has grown local grapes for thousands of years, but until recently was in poor upkeep. Now, with scientific knowledge and new investment, they are producing some truly amazing wines. The bottle we tried was from a producer called Cottanera, the wine called Fatagione, with 85% Nerello Mascalese. Truly another world. Doubtful if you can find it in the States– but you never know!
Snooth Articles on Italian Wine December 16, 2009
Posted by davidandcecy in Art, Travel, Wine.1 comment so far
Gregory Dal Paz of Snooth.com has been posting briefs from his recent wine tour through Umbria and nearby Tuscany– worth reading for the wine insight and the experience of local culture (not that we didn’t have our share!). We’ve been to many of the same places and enjoyed comparing our experiences.
I recently set off on a tour of adjacent regions in Italy, one as famous as any, the other living in its neighbor’s shadow. Tuscany captures the imagination of many, and with good reason. The riches of Siena, Florence, the hill towns and famous vineyards spanning Montalcino, Montepulciano, and Chianti have had a tremendous impact on history. Moving just a few kilometers to the east one finds oneself in the province of Umbria. Long passed over as a tourist destination, and with a much smaller wine industry, Umbria is only now appearing on the radar of the average tourist…
Travel to Tuscany: Greve in Chianti
Day one in Italy ended with me in the quaint town of Greve in Chianti. Located in the northern reaches of the Chianti region, and only some 30 kilometers south of Florence, it’s an ideal home base for visits in the region. The village is well known as a source of fine wine, and is also home to several renowned restaurants…
Volpaia is a fantastically preserved and renovated Italian village of medieval origins. The Stianti family, owners of Castello di Volpaia, have painstakingly restored much of the village and converted it to their winery while preserving all the architectural details and appearances that takes one back to a simpler way of life.
The Hilltop Village of Montepulciano
When we think of Tuscan wine it’s so easy to get distracted by thoughts of Brunello and Chianti, then move on to the Super Tuscans, totally glossing over many great wines. The greatest mistake many people make is to ignore Montepulciano, or rather the wines of Montepulciano: Vino Nobile and Rosso di Montepulciano. Let me rephrase that just a little, missing the village of Montepulciano is almost as big a mistake as is missing the region’s wines. Montepulciano, besides being the star of some recent vampire movie, is a wonderful little hilltop town that feels untouched by the passage of time.
September: Our French Wine Trip December 4, 2009
Posted by davidandcecy in Brilliant Ideas, Romance, Travel, Uncategorized, Wine.1 comment so far
Berlin: The Broken Tooth
Regular readers of our blog (both of them!) will notice that we haven’t posted anything new for a few months… and it’s true. Italy is a land of much wine and distraction: by the time you build in a two-and-a-half-hour pausa every afternoon and a 90 minute passengiata every evening, it’s hard to see the point of drawing your ambition much past robing/disrobing and the occasional snack. That said, our silence might have you thinking that we had little to report… and nothing could be further from the truth! In fact, we feel we have a moral– nay, spiritual– duty to channel our experiences vicariously back to you poor schlubs trapped in an office somewhere. (That was us, half a year ago– so we’re not throwing stones.) So consider this a catch-up posting (one of three).
To recap: in true High-Life form, we blew through our first two months here in Italy (July-August) without barely catching a breath, taking Italian classes four hours a day and trekking around the countryside every weekend. In between other important duties we explored a list of half-shelved passions: reading, writing, sketching, cooking, singing, eating, (drinking). We already knew that we would lose our apartment for the month of September– outwitted by a disgustingly organized British couple who had reserved the place a year in advance– but as we had planned to travel anyway, it all worked out.
The Plaza in Kreutzberg
The Sandcrawler in Star Wars
So, with some wistful hesitation, on September 1 we took off for our grande tour-de-Europa.
First by air to Berlin (sidenote: Air Berlin is a nice airline), where we stayed in a funky conference hotel that looked like the Sandcrawler from Star Wars. (Don’t believe me? Compare the pics.) In addition to touring the city where one of us once lived, we reu
nited with several friends and ate lots of good Indian food. Then by train to Brussels, where we crashed at the apartment of our dashing diplomatic friend and ate Bruxillian food (pricey). Then by slow train to Strasbourg, France– another former haunt– where we ate tarte flambe and tried unsuccessfully to track down the road bike one of us had left with Kurdish landlords six years ago (they’d moved on).
Then, finally, by rental car through the much-lauded wine regions of France: Alsace, Borgogne (Burgandy), and Cotes-du-Rhone. After drinking Italian wine for several months, we thought it was time to broaden our horizons and get a feel for other types of old-world wineries. Unlike in Italy– where, before we moved here, we rarely cared for the wine– several varieties in France already had our affection. From clean, crisp Alsatian Rieslings to meaty, chewy Chateauneufs to smooth, nuanced Bordeaux’s– plus Armagnac, a favorite liquor– France had an impressive portfolio, if somewhat overpriced.
However: there’s no way to know wine like being there. When last I lived in France I really had no idea what I was looking at; I was on a student budget and was a bit of an amateur. Now, with slightly greater resources and appreciation, we discovered a few new things that you might also be interested in.
So first, Alsace: the great white wine producing region of France. Even if you don’t generally care for whites, you’ll find something you like here: these are clean, unoaked, fresh-tasting whites, easy to drink and very cheap at €4-8 a bottle. We picked up a range of whites that we liked a lot, including Riesling, Pinot Blanc, Muscat and Gewurztraminer. Mostly unknown is that many wineries also make a Pinot Noir which is pretty darn good in its own way, and which expresses the Alsacian terroir; it makes for an interesting comparison with the now popular Californian and Oregonian Pinots. (For more on the wine offerings of Alsace, check out A Brief Primer on the Jewels of Alsace.)
In Burgundy (Borgogne) we saved lots of money for wine purchases by setting up camp (literally) in the trees of the Black Forest and at a five-star campground just outside the old city of Beaune. Aside from the small detail that we were sleeping outside, it really was pretty comfortable and included a cafe, electicity and wireless internet. Considering that your standard 1-star hotel costs €60-80, the €25 we spent on our Ikea mattress and our €10 Chinese-produced tent (red) seemed pretty worth it. We watched movies on our laptops plugged into the outlet as we toasted ourselves on our choice not to spend $100 a night in some fleatrap hotel.
The Wines of Borgogne
Cecy with some Dirty Old Man
As for the wines of Borgogne, we were told that for the best appreciation one must wait 10-15 years. 10-15 years? I don’t think so. Good wine may well come out of Burgundy, but for wine you expect to drink in the next few years it’s watery and overpriced. That said, there is a certain elegance here that exists few other places; we just prefer the wines of the south. We had a wonderful time touring the winery of Parent and even got to watch them as they brought in their harvest. (Having just consumed a bottle of Parent with Thanksgiving dinner, I will say that it pairs very well with light foods like turkey.) For more on wine in Burgundy, we recommend this article on Learning Burgundy.
The Certificate
A Small Samping for Home
But then Avignon, Cotes-du-Rhone, and Chateuneuf-du-Pape. NOW THIS IS REAL WINE. Chewy, dark, dense, “bacony” even. This was great wine, ready to drink now. The mistral winds of the Provencal beat down the grapes and force them to be hardy and heady and deep. We found any number of cellars that were willing to part with their delicious CDP’s for around €12-15, a virtual steal when you think about what these wines command back in the States (or anywhere else). We took back a good sampling of both red and white wines from the region. Did you know that CDP is traditionally a blend of about 13 different grapes, all grown alongside each other? Can you imagine growing 13 different grapes?
Back to Italy, where we had just enough time to charm our way past the Englishpeople and change out suitcases before our flight back to DC!…
Introduction to Tuscany Wines, Part Two September 6, 2009
Posted by davidandcecy in Culture, Random Thoughts, Travel, Wine.1 comment so far
Montalcino
Our second day, we set off back up the road and dived into the realms of Brunello, a varietal of Sangiovese specific to the area around Montalcino. This genetic strain, plus the unique terroir, makes its renown wine an excellent (though expensive) choice for any good restaurant or connoisseur. But it is really worth it? After all, we tried our first in Montepulciano and weren’t overwhelmed…
Well, the answer is yes: with a caveat. The best Brunellos, as we discovered, really are pretty special, having a flavour and perfume that is unique and memorable. But, like anywhere, it depends a lot on what you find and what your preferences are, and for us it’s really only worth it when you’re buying in Montalcino, where they’re significantly cheaper (€15-20 a bottle, versus €20-30 elsewhere). We couldn’t believe how many Brunello producers there were in Montalcino– more than 200! Most aren’t sold past the city limits, I’d guess, and there are only a handful to be found in Perugia, less than 100 km away. A good way to train your tastebuds is to go to the line of shops facing the town square, which have dozens open that you can taste. One of the best isthe Cantina della Piazza, and there’s also another smaller shop just around the corner, up the hill, on the left where they had the best Brunellos I tasted (although too expensive for my budget). Incidentally, don’t fail to pay attention to the more humble “Rosso di Montalcino” that almost all cantine make; it may not be 100% Brunello, but it’s probably 80% and some have the same flavour characteristics that make you think you’re drinking really expensive wine. Looking back, I wish we had bought more.
Our acquisitions:
- We bought bottles of Brunello di Montalcino from Tornesi (2003) and Il Carlo Magno (2003), both smaller producers, for about €15 each. (Don’t be afraid of the 2003 vintage, many of them are quite good!)
- Ironically, my star find in Montalcino was not a Tuscan but an Umbrian favorite: a 1998 Colpetrone Sangrantino di Montefalco for only €16, part of a last bottle closeout. (Consider that the 2007s sell new for €30…) We also bought, and later opened, another 1998 vintage Tuscan and found it very satisfying. There’s always the risk that it’s gone bad, though, and I did notice a bit of dried wine on the label after I brought it home…
Il Chianti
The next day, after a stop in Siena for the night, we headed up into Il Chianti– which, it must be said, really is all that in terms of scenery. We loved driving up through the mountain roads in our rental car (the only way to get there) and stopping in little towns to look out over the fields. In terms of wine, however, we found it somewhat less accommodating than other parts of Tuscany, maybe being a victim of its own success. Many cantine seem to frown on unscheduled visits, instead preferring to sell and taste through the commercial enoteca in the towns. We saddled up to a local enoteca at our first stop and tried some of the local Chianti Classico, but left without being overly impressed.
After lunch, we did make a stop at one cantina, Casaloste, which had a very nice new tasting room and a tri (quadra?) lingual hostess; we liked it enough (and appreciated the hospitality) to buy a bottle of the Classico. When we asked about what other wineries in the area might be worth trying, though, we got a blank stare in return. She told us she didn’t really know any of them– and that she had been here more than 10 years! Interesting… wouldn’t you be curious about other producers around you?
We headed on to Greve in Chianti, a popular tourist destination due to the piazza and the famous Cantine di Greve in Chianti, which allows you to buy a tasting card and sample any number of about 300 different wines from across the region; the cost of the tastings are calculated according to the cost of the bottle, so you can both experiment to see what you like AND try a few of the pricier ones that you know
you would never actually buy. Of course, it does add up: we were surprised to find we went through three €15 tasting cards in our visit, which is a lot of wine when you think about it. On the other hand, it was worth it for the experience because we wanted to taste a variety of different wines and train our palatte so we could figure out what we liked.
Our star find at the Cantina, at least in terms of Chianti, was the 2007 L’Aruspice– not only was it one of our favorites, it was also one of the cheapest on offer at only €8 a bottle. With a nose that speaks of black cherry and mint, the L’Aruspice is on the darker side for a Chianti, coming in between garnet and purple. On the mouth it is smooth and well-balanced but also distinctive, with acidity and just enough tannin to provide a dry finish. Not overly-fruity, in Italian style, but with enough body and substance to be satisfying. Very worth finding, if you can. The others worth mentioning were the Panzanetto 2007 (dark color, floral nose, strawberry notes, €15) and the Brancaia 2005 (good smokey nose, full bodied, elegant, €23). In fact, we liked everything made by Brancaia, although it tends to be pricey.
On the not-so-good side, avoid the Altiero 2007 (bleh), the San Felice (tasted cheap), and the house Chianti of the Cantine di Greve (sadly, unremarkable). A host of others were pleasing but not overly-impressive: Viticcio 2006 (€12), Fontodi 2006 (€15), Vecchie Terre di Montefili 2006 (€15), Querciabela 2006 (€19), and the Cacchiano 2004 (€15). The Cacchiano actually has a wonderful floral nose and is well balanced and smooth, it just didn’t quite make the cut when compared to the L’Aruspice at half the price.
After making our run of the Chianti Classico, we moved on to the Riserva. “Riserva” in this case just means that it is aged longer and can be sold only after a minimum of three years, usually. Wineries usually “reserve” their better grapes for the smaller-production Riservas, but it doesn’t always make for a notably better wine. It is by definition more expensive, though– so we didn’t linger too long here, only enough to see what the difference was like. Our first, the Molino di Grace 2005 (€15), only warrented a ” : /” symbol in our evaluation system; we found it had a very mature, smooth body but a weird chemical-ash nose. The second, the Dievole 2005 Riserva (€29) was a better choice, with a dark color, deep dark fruit on the nose, and a complex, aged, mature structure. This was a good choice to feel the difference for a riserva. The Berardo 2004 Riserva (€26) was also good, with balanced blackberry and prune, but didn’t wow us. The best bargain was undoubtably the Nipozzano 2005 Riserva (€14), which despite the price showed strong cassis and cranberry on the nose and a satisfying, complex taste profile. We’ve found this overseas, so it must be a larger producer; nonetheless, a safe pick at any resteraunt.
Then, the “Tuscans” and “Supertuscans”: blends made in the region that don’t meet the strict standards for classification, but that nonetheless are quite good (and now, famous and expensive). Here we had a whole range: some were not that appealing, while others had real character and depth. Cecy really liked the Villa Donoratico 2005 (€17), which had a medium color, a nutty nose, and was smooth and well balanced. Also notable was (again) the Brancaia 2006 Toscana (€45), a medium-dark blend with a alcoholy, dark current taste. The best overall? Undoubtably the Luce 2005 Frescobaldi Toscana (€76), which blew €4 in card credit at a single go. A strong, floral nose, powerful blackberry and cherries on the palate, earthy, herby, and overall really good. Worth the $100 for the bottle?– dunno, we couldn’t go there in any case. But worth the experience at $6? Definitely.
You’re probably thinking that would be the most expensive bottle we tasted– but you’d be wrong. For a mere €8 ($12) for a 2oz serving, the FSM Vicchiomaggio 2004 Toscana (€165, $240) delivered a simply wonderful nose, a floral bouquet with the distinctive “merlot” berry smell– the kind of sensual experience that makes you really get why people pay hundreds of dollars for a single bottle of wine. But, to us the taste was not better than the Luce above, and at twice the price. So– worth it for the experience, but not for the table. Take the money and fly to another country for the weekend.
But what did we buy? Two little gems in the overblown Tuscan wine-world: the Petra “Ebo” 2005 (€12), with darker color, cherries and raspberries on the nose, a great flavor, balance, punch, and spice. This is the kind of wine that you can drink like water and you think, wow, I don’t know why, but this is really good wine. The other, the Eliseo Gualdo del Re 2007 (€8), has a medium-color, strawberries and mint on the nose, and summery smell. Considering we tend to like the darker wines, this was a great medium-bodied find that could be served in any season.
By now, you must think we were pretty punchy, and… you’d be right. But, for the record, we want to object to the supposed truism put forth by wine purists: that there’s no point to tasting more than four or five wines at a time, since your palatte is shot and you can’t tell the difference. Nonsense. We could still distinguish a good wine from a mediocre wine and even pick out the stellar wines that we wanted to take home– and our choices held up later under more sober circumstances. Maybe there is a point at which your ability to detect degrades, but it’s not after five or six tastes.
So what’s left? The rest of Italy. We tried a wine from Puglia (heel of the boot), Lazio (near Rome), Friuli (up near the Alps), and Sicily, though none really rocked our boat. Finally, grappa, that brandy-like liquor made from grape skins. We’ve tried a few before and liked the one we tasted at Le Cantine, but we put our cap at six bottles to take home. Then, three hours driving home to sleep and get ready for class the next morning…
“Italian Style” September 3, 2009
Posted by davidandcecy in Brilliant Ideas, Culture, Random Thoughts, Travel.1 comment so far
The Italians are known for many things, including wine, food, coffee, fashion, and art. Added to this is Italian design, which is justifiably famous for its sleek, modern look.
Our textbook had this to say about “Italian Style”:
“Le parole Italian style non significano solo “stile italiano,” ma indicano una grande tradizione di cose belle, chic, da mettere nella casa, nel garage, nell’armadio dei vestiti, nella cantina dei vini… il made in Italy dice a tutto il mondo che la tradizione di buon gusto, l’attenzione alla bellezza, l’alta qualità sono ancora vive nell’Italia dei nostri tempi, come ai tempi dei grandi artisti del passato…”
(In English, roughly:)
“The words ‘Italian style’ don’t just signify style, but indicate a grand tradition of chic and beautiful things, to put in your house, in your garage, your closet, and wine cellar…. “Made in Italy” says to all the world that the tradition of good taste, attention to beauty, and high quality also lives on in the Italy of our times, just as it did with the grand artists of the past…”
In the spirit of levity, though, we have to point out that not everything in Italy is bellissimo. Here we share a few of our recent observations (with appropriate humility, since we love it here!):
Italian Elevators: one thin person, please
Italian Time: it is clearly a domani
Italian Wine: Don't worry, we have 10 Litre bottles in the back...
Italian Driving: But does she have to ride in the back?
Italian Parking: you've got a good half inch, easy
Italian Birth Control: We're serious about this abstinance thing.
Italian Public Toilets: We frown on Mr. Brown.
Italian Sidewalks: why waste all that good street space for pedestrians?
Italian Vacations: I know, let's all go to the beach the same exact week!
Introduction to Tuscan Wines, Part One September 1, 2009
Posted by davidandcecy in Food, Travel, Wine.1 comment so far
This past weekend we jetted out for our long-delayed adventure to Tuscany, Umbria’s sexier and more famous sister. Nearly every foreign visitor has heard of Tuscany, and so nearly every foreign visitor GOES to Tuscany, which already makes Umbria more appealing. That notwithstanding, Tuscany does offer some impressive sights, including the competing cities of Firenze and Siena, beautiful countryside, great food, art, history…
And, of course, wine. Our three-day voyage took us through the hilltop towns of Montepulciano, Montalcino, Pienza, and the mountains of Il Chianti– not coincidentally, major stops on any Italian wine pilgrimage. Having now acclimated our palates somewhat to Italian winemaking, and having established a control group of good Umbrian reds, we set out to find out whether these internationally-renown wines were worth their cachè. Here is a record of our journey, and some thoughts on our findings:
Montepulciano
We set out first to Montepulciano, a small hilltop town of 14,000 whose modern claim to fame is the Vino Nobile (“nobile wine”) di Montepulciano. The city is pleasingly set miles off the main highway and so offers miles of anticipatory scenery: country roads, aisles of grape vines, daffodils, red-brown stone, and dusty fields where crops have already been harvested. The narrow town is perched on a steep hill and is surrounded by the quintessential stone fortifications that remind you of how contentious Italian politics were through the ages. (In fact, Montepulciano was batted about like a toy between the dueling cities of Siena and Firenze for much of its history, finally falling into the Firenze camp in the 15th century.) We actually stopped off at a local cantina before going into the city– Icari– but it was closed for the August ferie.
The vino nobile is obviously where it’s all at. Line after line of stores line the main street as you walk into town, generously offering free tastings of the cantine (cellars) that produce the stuff. Many of the stores are owned by local wineries– which means that it is predominantly their wares that are on display– but many also act as a kind of clearinghouse for smaller wineries that still need a presence for their wines. In fact, many of the wines produced here never make it beyond the city, or the region: they’re purchased in the city, or sold in small lots to family resteraunts with which they have a relationship.
We sampled two or three wines before stopping at a roadside resteraunt/wine bar for a combination deal: two flights of signature local wines and a platter of Tuscan salame and cheeses. As mentione in our previous post, Italian wines are more often designed to be tasted with food and in some cases, it can make quite a difference. A friend of ours here, for instance, said that the much-touted Brunello (see below) can come off unimpressive unless you pair it with a good spicy Tuscan salami… and then, wow.
I started with a half-glass of the almost equally famous Vernaccia, a white wine of San Gimignano in the north. Described as smooth and aromatic, pale golden color, with a slightly bitter aftertaste, Vernaccia has been around for centuries and was the first Italian wine to be granted the DOC award. Although we both loved it, we didn’t get a bottle because it’s a regional import and we were focusing on reds. It’s great, though– track it down.
Next up came two vino nobile, dark, red, fruit-forward and complex. One didn’t do much for us, but the other we liked enough to make it our first purchase (see below). Next we tried a Brunello di Montelcino– my first– but considering that most sell for twice the cost of a vino nobile, I was underwhelmed. It had the pale purple color and the distinctive flavour combination that I affiliate with expensive wine worldwide, but flavor-wise I just didn’t get it. (But wait, more on Brunello later.) Lastly, we tried a red that I’d never heard of, a Monteregio di Massa Marittima– also Tuscan, but closer to Chianti, mostly Sangiovese with a bit of Merlot and Syrah. This we liked a lot.
Purchases:
- 1 bottle of the Solarius 2005 Vino Nobile (DOCG). I don’t know if you can find it in the States, but if so look for a bottle with a giant sunflower on the front. (about €12)
- 1 bottle of Rocca di MonteMassi 2006 “Sassabruna” Monteregio di Massa Marittima (about €12)
We meant to make it to Brunello the first day, but instead we ate dinner and went south to Bagne San Felipe. Talk about an experience. Bathing at night in the open-air hotsprings under a sky full of stars, then a comfy night’s sleep in our tent– which, unfortunately, we had to cast in the middle of a dirt road, since we got there after dark. Thank goodness it only takes two poles and a little wine to put it up!
Answers: Italian Kitchen Quiz August 10, 2009
Posted by davidandcecy in Culture, Food, Travel.4 comments
UPDATE: Thanks all for playing. Here are the answers, for those of you who are curious!
1. This is a heavy metal press on the end of a stick: truthfully, we’re not sure what it’s called. It has much the feel of that thing you stick on the end of the espresso pod to make sure it tamps down, but it’s too big. We use it to crush toast for bread crumbs and flatten out small wads of dough, for pastries.
2. This is indeed a ravioli stamp. Oh, why did I toil for hours getting my complex ravioli attachment to work with my pasta maker? MUCH easier.
3. This is a thing for grating vegetables. Yes, I know. But apparently it works.
4. This is a scale (obviously?). But the interesting thing is, all of my recipes in Italian DEPEND on you having a scale. For instance, to make a torte you weigh 225 g. of flour, 100 g. of sugar, 150 g. of cherries, etc. (weight)– whereas we might look for 3 cups of flour, 1 cup of sugar, etc. (volume).
5. Believe it or not, this is to carry piles of plates. You stack them on the rack and then close the hinges, viola: you can carry 8-10 plates without fear of losing them. Or, at least, that’s all we’ve done with it so far.
6. This is a really, really big rolling pin– if you didn’t think the Italians were serious about their dough, now you know. You could wallup a bear with this thing…. but it works.
For other foodlike fun:
- http://www.sharpknives.com/gourmets_toolbox_pages/bakers_tools.htm
- http://www.sharpknives.com/gourmets_toolbox_pages/tacapasta_pasta_drying_rack.htm
- http://www.sharpknives.com/gourmets_toolbox_pages/chinois_set.htm
- http://www.petersofkensington.com.au/Product/ProductInfo.aspx?id=1625723&cid=585
Thanks all for playing!
________________
A placeholder until we can get our next posting up on Italian wines…. you know what not to do with a bidet, but can you guess the name and/or function of these common Italian kitchen implements?
Umbrian Reds (Part 1) August 6, 2009
Posted by davidandcecy in Brilliant Ideas, Travel, Wine.add a comment
UMBRIAN WINES, Part 1: An Italian (Wine) Primer
We’ve been here just over a month, which means we’ve had a chance to (hic) try a few of the (hic) local vintages by now. We thought you might like to know something about what we’ve been drinking– maybe you can even track down some mysterious Italian varietal yourself!
First, a confession: before coming to Italy, we hadn’t much coveted Italian wines. Most of the reds, like Chianti, have been too thin for my taste, while the whites, like Pinot Grigio, seemed mostly watery and characterless. I admit it: I’m one of those people that likes my wine to knock my socks off with a big one-two, fruit-tannin punch. I’m a fan of California Zinfandels and Cabernets, Argentinian Malbecs and Australian Syrahs, and I’d be happy most nights never venturing further.
In fact, I’m exactly the kind of new-world consumer that irk the traditionalists– connoisseurs who point out that European winemakers have been making small-production wine in a specific way for hundreds of years, at least before unsophisticated plebeians like me started skewing the market. Just like anywhere, the Italian wine market has adjusted somewhat to meet shifts in preference, and numerous Italian winemakers have now abandoned the coveted state-issued “DOC” (Denominazione di Origine Controllata) and “DOCG” (Denominazione di Origine Controllata e Garantita) appellations– prized certifications guaranteeing that the wine was made locally and according to traditional methods. Why? To free themselves up from the strict rules that go along with them, and thereby experiment with different varietals and technologies. They’ve also started making wine more appealing to American (or modern) tastes– and what’s worse, it turns out that many of these old-world experiments in new-world winemaking are pretty good. (This is the story of the enormously popular “Supertuscans,” wines from Tuscany that that deliver more punch for the American palate by going maverick and breaking the rules of what grapes can be used, etc.) The down side is, since they don’t meet the requirements for more prestigious labels they’re forced to call their creations “vino da tavola”– table wine– kind of the Italian equivalent of what “box wine” in the U.S..
Besides stimulating a raucous debate about whether such abominations should be allowed, this has put local and traditional winemakers under more competitive pressure since it is almost always easier, faster, and cheaper to ignore the rules. Should traditional winemaking be protected in order to preserve the historical value and cultural heritage, or should they be allowed to suffer the cruel but fair effects of market pressures? I won’t be able to resolve the debate, but I thought I should at least try to retrain my palette to appreciate what I’m tasting. After all, I didn’t always have a taste for raw oysters, paté, stinky cheese, or even wine– some things, it appears, yield their return slowly after the proper investment in appreciation. Whereas once I drowned out my coffee with sugar and cream to make it drinkable, I now appreciate good, solid black coffee as a thing of beauty and taste. (I still like California Rolls, though– go figure.)
I’m not sure I’ll be coming all the way over to the traditionalist side, but we have learned some things which are useful. First off, “wine” in Italy means Italian wine. One of the biggest differences you notice right away in Italy is the utter lack of any other country on the wine list. You would think that only the Italians make the stuff– and perhaps in addition to local pride there’s a bit of subterfuge going on here to protect the growers. At any good restaurant in the States you would expect a range from France, Italy, Spain, California, Oregon, and maybe Australia, but here the variety is expressed in terms of the different Italian regions: a full page for Piedmont, maybe, and another for Tuscany, along with bits for Fruili, Campagnia, Umbria, etc. Even the French get only passing mention. I can’t actually remember seeing a single non-Italian wine on an Italian wine list, and I’ve only seen one American wine for sale, up high on a top shelf– a Beringer that you could pick up for about $7 at Safeway. I would guess most Italians have never tasted an American wine in their life.
Second, Italian wine is designed to be appreciated with food. Duh, right? Actually, no. The thought of ordering wine as an aperitif or as a social lubricant before dinner isn’t completely foreign to Europeans, but traditionally wine takes its rightful place at the dinner table and is paired more closely with food. The key is what’s going on in the mind of the winemaker: whereas the American may imagine how the wine should taste on its own, the European is thinking about how the taste interacts with the local cuisine and palate. Also, it’s more important that usual to decant. I wasn’t so much into decanting in the U.S., but there’s a funny effervescence which Italian reds seem to have when you first open the bottle, and it’s not endearing. (You can actually see the bubbles!) For some reason Italians have them, and Americans don’t– something about the bottling process, I would guess. Anyway, you can get out the bubbles and turn a rather thin-tasting red into a much better wine with a bit of decanting– even if you have to rig a McGuyver-type solution with a funnel, as I did.
One last bit of trivia which we learned last weekend, when we went through Umbrian wine-country: Italian cantine (cellars) are the least expensive places to buy wine. Actually, this makes sense when you think about it– no transportation, stocking costs, direct to consumer– but it’s completely the opposite from the U.S.. When I was traveling through Napa or Sonoma, I would usually buy a bottle or two at each place if I liked it, but I was never under any illusions that I was paying other than Full Retail Price. By contrast, when we visited one local cantina (Goretti) last weekend we bought a bottle of their trademark red, L’Arringatore, for about €9, and the suave gentleman there ensured us that this would be the cheapest we would see it. Darn if we didn’t return to Perugia and see the same bottle for €15 on the store shelf, and €22 at a restaurant. Of course, with the exchange rate at 1.4 USD, €9 is about as high as we’re likely to go….
