GASTRONORMOUS

On New Year’s Eve last year a dear friend of mine pulled me aside to indulge in a bottle of Moët Rosé he had stashed away for the special midnight toast. Our palates, anesthetized from drinking $4 Andre all evening (hey, we were broke students), were awakened by the refreshingly smooth and crisp Moët. What was his explanation for this unusual display of extravagance? “Bringing in the New Year is a special occasion worthy of a special drink; we needed something unique and out of the norm.” I will be hosting my own New Year’s Eve party this year and, per this great advice, have opted to skip Champagne all together for a bit more standout sparkling Argentine Malbec.
Though toasting 2009 with red wine may seem blasphemous, North Western Argentina’s festive and enjoyable Terra Sparkling Malbec is a delicious alternative to Champagne’s predictable midnight appearance. Produced in the Mendoza region of Argentina, famous for its bold and delicious Malbecs, Terra puts a vibrant twist on this South American favorite. Filled with mixed dark berries like blueberries, blackberries, and currants, Terra is a bold red that has transformed into an undeniably light aperitif thanks to the addition of bubbles. Terra is great with hors d’oeuvres and strong enough to hold up to heavier dishes. There is a touch of black pepper spice at first taste, and a slightly tannic finish that pairs deliciously with prosciutto, salami, and jamón Serrano. Terra is a creative and original alternative to Champagne, and sure to be a memorable conversation starter: “Sparkling red wine, anyone?”

Available at Astor Wines & Spirits for $9.99

A blend of Zinfandel and red Rhône grapes, this drinkable red is as straightforward as it gets. Best described as uncomplicated, Sonoma County has created a clean blend free from the pretension associated with many of the higher-end reds produced in the area. Marietta 47’s appetizing fruit notes are bold enough for even the most novice drinker to appreciate, and a high drinkability factor has made this bottle one of the region’s top sellers.

While many highly developed European table wines have strong acidic and tannic qualities, this prototypical Cali blend is sweet and thoroughly delightful. Off-dry and midweight, this wine, like most of Marietta’s bottlings, is extremely well balanced. Upon opening, a dark fruit and berry bouquet is immediately evident. The fruit-forward nose is a jammy combination of blueberry pie, raspberry sorbet, and apple strudel. An elevated presence of oak lends this bottle its “baked” essence, imparting flavors of hickory and pecan pie perfect for holiday sipping.

It is this blend’s mild sweetness and soft tannins that make it a party favorite. Because Marietta 47 is both pleasant tasting and fairly priced, it would make a great addition to any Thanksgiving menu. Your guests can enjoy this sippable red as they nosh on appetizers, and it will grow even brighter when paired with buttery dishes like mashed potatoes. Only a sweet and truly balanced red like Marietta 47 could ever hold up to Grandma’s candied yams.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Available in New York at Astor Wines & Spirits for $11.99

Sweet wines don’t receive the same respect as other varietals, but they can be as complex, delicious, and deserving of admiration as their dry counterparts. Made by halting fermentation halfway through the wine making process—before all the sugar is converted to alcohol—these wines stay sweet because they are essentially part juice. A pleasing touch of sugary juice makes “off-dry” wine a wonderful start to any party, perfectly quaffable as your guests arrive.

St. Urbans-hof is a low-alcohol German Riesling with a fresh and appealing tartness. Like most German Rieslings, St. Urbans-hof is noticeably sweet at first sip. Comparable in taste to Moscato, this honey-forward cousin to the Italian bubbly is very smooth. A distinctly light body gives this bottle a very airy feel, though without the bubbles. As a rule, alcohol is what gives wine its body: the higher the alcohol content, the more viscous and syrupy-textured the wine. A great analogy is to think of the body of a wine on a similar scale as milk. For example, one percent, whole milk, and heavy cream all share the same flavor qualities, but its the thickness and richness of the liquid that varies. German Riesling is the skim milk of wine, and St. Urbans-hof is no exception.

The sweetness of this bottle is complemented by a citrus-like tartness, creating a fresh and breezy wine. St. Urbans-hof has moderate notes of granny smith apples and lemons upon opening, with a bouquet that mellows out to show softer white peach and melon qualities as you sip. High levels of acidity make this wine undeniably refreshing and a bit less sugary-tasting than other sweet Rieslings you may have tried. Because St. Urbans-hof is both light and sweet, it is ideal for pairing with similarly light and sweet dishes—this would be perfect with pre-turkey crudité, fruit, and cheese, or after dinner with a slice of spiced pumpkin pie.

Available in New York at Astor Wines & Spirits for $12.99

Pelaverga, Vigna di Terre Rosse - 2004
The Pelaverga is a little-known grape cultivated in the Piedmont region of Northern Italy, and is one of the region’s relatively affordable hidden treasures. Famous for its dark Nebbiolo grapes, Northern Italy’s Piedmont region is most closely associated with tannic wines like Barolo. Generally speaking, cottony tannins in any wine are produced by the grape skins. Because Pelaverga is a thin-skinned grape, these wines are not tannic, but uniquely light, fresh, and balanced for Piedmontese reds.

Pelaverga wine is typically clear ruby-red in color, has scents of tart cherries with notes of peppercorn, and possesses a lightness and restrained acidity atypical for a wine of this high alcohol content. Resolved tannins and little acidity make this wine perfect for sipping or pairing with appetizers, light meats, and fish.

Vigna di Terre Rosse displays all these classic varietal characteristics. Vigna di Terre Rosse is shy upon opening, with appealing grapefruit aromas, but within a couple of hours reveals complex and vivid notes of strawberries and cider. This label is fruit-forward, spicy, and has a strong and tart aroma. Perfectly juicy, with hints of clay and minerality following on the finish.

Trying Vigna di Terre Rosse’s Pelaverga reinforces the remarkable breadth and variety of Italian wines. The color of this wine alone, a transparent red reminiscent of cranberry juice, is delicate and distinct. Remarkably airy and smooth, with a thin mouth-feel, this uncommon wine is worthy of any taster’s attention.

[$19.99 at Astor Wines & Spirits]

This arty (read: unintentionally underexposed) photo is attempting to capture the tawny Brooklyn dusk through the lens of a great glass of wine. When I went to Bonita a while back I consumed the pictured glass of wine, which totally knocked my socks off.

When the waitress was taking orders, I asked what sort of white wine they had, and she said they only had one, but that it was great. I assented to a glass and found she couldn’t have been more right. It was extraordinary. Pale in color, but bursting with flavor. Very dry, but with the most amazing nose of tropical fruits. Wine reviewers talk about tropical fruit flavors and aromas especially in white wines, and I usually roll my eyes as I read that because where they taste tropical fruit (or leather, or hay, or toe jam), I just taste wine that I happen to like or not like. But in this case, the wine truly smelled and tasted of guavas, papayas, and a touch of melon and pineapple, but was very dry (which kept it from tasting like a wine cooler). Never before have I had a glass of wine with such distinct and pronounced tropical fruit flavors.

When I was nearing the end of my glass, I asked the waitress what the name of it was, again? She disappeared and came back holding the bottle, saying, “It’s called Conclass. Here, there is just a bit left, I’ll empty the bottle for you.” And she did. And I was glad.

The wine is a 2007 Verdejo, hailing from the Rueda region of Spain. By the time the waitress brought the bottle out for me to see, it was too dark to photo, but this memorable a wine merited documentation. I highly recommend it. Amazingly, it retails for under $15, though I have not yet seen it in a New York wine store. If you see it in a local store, please do let me know.

This photo is of the 2005 vintage, but gives you an idea of what it looks like.

Postscript: I found the wine just this evening at Greene Grape in Fort Greene, Brooklyn [$13.00].

This white sangria I made for a bar-b-que I attended last weekend was inspired by a recipe my husband brought back from a long ago trip to Spain. He stayed in a seaside town called Gijón where they made sangria using cheap red village wine, fruit, and orange soda. Yes, I am talkin’ Fanta. Elsewhere in Spain called tinto con naranja, it was served with fruit and called sangria in Gijón.

Red wine and Fanta sounds unsophisticated, or maybe even unpleasant, but incorporated into sangria it is a surprisingly tasty concoction (I can’t say the same for another popular drink in spain: calimocho, or red wine and coca-cola). We served it at a party once–everybody loved it and you can’t imagine their surprise when told the constituents of the beverage!

I don’t use Fanta in this white sangria recipe, but never fear, it is lowbrow-fabulous, or, shall we say, Rustic.

The trick to bringing sangria to a hot-weather event (it was in the 90’s Saturday). Is to cut up and freeze all the fruit the night before, and then mix the sangria right before leaving. The fruit acts to chill the sangria without watering it down. I served this in a 4 liter plastic pitcher with a spout at the bottom for easy pouring. I brought along a ladle to scoop fruit of the top.

“Rustic” White Sangria

about 8 cups of fruit.
(I used: 1 large orange, 1 bunch seedless red grapes, 1 bunch seedless white grapes, 1 peach, 1 nectarine, 1 pear, 1 apple.)
Plus: 2 limes
2.5 liters of cheap white wine
1 cup triple sec (or other orange liquor)
.5 liters seltzer or club soda

The night before: Cut all the fruit into small wedges. DO NOT PEEL THE FRUIT–even the citrus! Throw it all into a big ziploc bag. If using apples and/or pears, save those for last so that when you throw them in the bag the acid from the other fruits will prevent them from browning. Cut 1.5 limes into wedges and add to bag. Squeeze the juice out of the remaining half of lime over the fruit. Seal bag, then manipulate it to the mix the fruit around inside. Put the bag in the coldest part of the freezer.

The day of: dump the frozen fruit into the pitcher or other container you are using. Pour the other ingredients over it. Give it a taste and adjust as necessary. Now, go put on some sunblock and get out the door!

Notes:

• Bring extra wine and soda with you if you can. There will likely be a lot of fruit left in the container when you have gone through the liquid. I promise you your guests will appreciate a refill. Alternatively: enjoy a drunken fruit salad when all the liquid is gone!
• If you use a super dry wine, this might be good (and more true to its Español inspiration) with a clear flavored soda, like white grape soda.
• You could use some liquor other than orange. Peach schnapps might work, though the resultant flavor might induce a Bartles & Jaymes flashback. This may or may not be a good thing.
• Full disclosure: I used a 5 liter box of Almaden white wine for this recipe! A box! Not anything I would dream of serving straight up, to guests or even just myself. Sounds crazy, but look at it from the flip side: do you really want to violate a good bottle of wine with fruit and soda? ¡Claro que no!

Here the white sangria is served in the familiar red plastic SOLO cup. How rustic.

7/4/08 Postscript: See my spectacular new 4th of July, red, white, and blue sangria recipe here.

After a particularly tiring week, I decided to cap off my Friday with a nice, BIG red. I am not always into big wines (and certainly would not be today as the temperature reaches for 100 degrees!), and I know some people abhor these redder-than-reds. And I can’t blame them; when “big” wines are done wrong, they taste like grape juice fortified with rubbing alcohol. Cheap tequila should make you feel the burn, a mid-priced Zinfandel shouldn’t.

Unfortunately, this is what my throat experienced after I cracked open the bottle of Cline Ancient Vines Zinfandel recently. At first it doesn’t seem bad, it is very rich and very fruity, but then, as you swallow you get that unpleasant burn of alcohol that starts at the back of your throat and sends astringent vapor into your nose. I was surprised as I have enjoyed this wine in the past, but this must have been a different vintage (2006).

It made me long for the great, but difficult to find in my area, Layer Cake Shiraz, which was a huge wine I tried a month or so ago, full of bold flavors of berries and chocolate. There is a good reason the Layer Cake brand, which produces wines in Australia (Shiraz), Italy (Primitivo), and Argentina (Malbec) has garnered a cult following. They make big wines that are richer, more complex, and more satisfying than their alcohol-bomb brethren. (Well, I have not had the Malbec, and considering that varietal’s characteristics, may very well not be as big a wine.) Even better, all Layer Cake varietals are $20 and under!

They aren’t a giant producer, so their wines can be difficult to find, but if you see a label with a luscious chocolate cake on the label, by all means, buy a slice.

I have long been one to prefer a rich Cabernet Sauvignon or spicy Zinfandel to a Merlot. But I must admit I felt sorry for Merlot winemakers when the movie Sideways cast a sorry blight upon the varietal (and elevated Pinot Noir beyond where it might or should otherwise stand). For years before Sideways, Merlot had the reputation for being one-note, “mellow” to the point of blandness, or worse, muddled or bitter. It also has suffered the slander of being deemed by those in the vinto-know as “accessible.” Surely, in so rarefied a field as viticulture this can not be meant as a compliment. Indeed, a quaffable wine adored by the masses is an easy mark for the disdain of oenophiles.

But I have found a merlot that is complex! rich! and best of…wait for it…inexpensive! Plus, it has a reproduction of a really beautiful art nouveau poster for a label. This confluence of traits in a Merlot is unusual to say the least, and who’s to say it isn’t a miracle of Dionysus that Cycles Gladiator 2005 Central Coast Merlot [$9.99] is so satisfying and rich, with berry flavors, a pleasant hint of herbaceousness, and truly velvety in mouthfeel. Now, let’s be honest, this is no 1787 Château Lafitte Bordeaux, but it is an immensely enjoyable wine, Merlot or no, especially for the price.

Postscript: I am terrified to report that it doesn’t seem to be as easily found as it once was. My local wine merchant hasn’t stocked it for over a month, which I didn’t think much of until I noticed the winemaker’s website claims only 14 cases remain in their supply. So, hie thee to thy local wine purveyor and ask for it. I promise you won’t regret it.

Where: wd~50
When: February 2, 2008
What:
Popcorn soup, shrimp, jicama, tamarind
Coffee gnocchi, coconut, cipollini, sylvetta
Scallops, black trumpet, cranberry, pecan, spice bread consommé
Parsnip tart, quinoa, hazelnuts, bok choy
Toasted coconut cake, carob, smoked cashews, brown butter sorbet
Neyers Zinfandel, Pato Vineyard, 2005, Contra Costa County, CA

As a special birthday treat for my husband, I took him to wd~50, the Wylie Dufresne restaurant on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. The restaurant is acclaimed for its gastronomic innovations, using molecular science to transform the ordinary into the unexpected, and sometimes slightly absurd (cubes of fried mayonnaise have gotten a lot of press; molé capsules, pizza pellets, and perfect pearls of tofu are other gastroddities).

The dining room is lovely—modern, yet warm and cozy. We were seated in a booth near the glass-paned fireplace. We immediately noticed Wylie himself standing back by the kitchen. The stars were surely aligned for a pleasant dining experience.

The meal started with sesame flatbread. To call it flatbread is a bit misleading; it is actually a gossamer-thin cracker; fragile sheets that broke apart in our hands and melted in our mouth. I think the flatbread might have been better sprinkled with something other than sesame–next to the delicacy of the bread, even these small seeds seemed clunky and incongruous. Maybe they could coat the bread with the molecular essence of sesame seeds rather than the seeds themselves, as that is their thing?

My husband’s soup was a vision not so much of the molecular gastronomy of which Dufresne is a champion, but more of a preference of engineering over naturalism. The shrimp were unrecognizably pressed into perfect discs, but were succulent none the less. The base of the soup itself tasted of creamy, buttery liquefied popcorn. And the jicama too denied its nature, cut into perfect crunchy squares, a good foil to the creamy broth and chewy shrimp.

The gnocchi appetizer was a disappointment for me (not as much for the hubs). The combination of coffee, the (overly-) charred cipollinis, sylvetta (wild arugula), and the lime dressing in which it was tossed made for an acrid, bitter, sour mess of a dish. The intense creaminess of the accompanying coconut foam (there is that molecular gastronomy) foiled the unpleasant flavors somewhat, but not so much that I had any desire to eat more than two bites of the dish (the hubs finished off the gnocchi component of the dish, though).

The parsnip tart was actually an architectural rectangle of a dense puree of parsnips with a cracker wall along one side of it (i.e., no real crust). It was beautifully presented with sautéed baby bok choy (not a vegetable I would have thought to pair with it, but it worked well here) and a cascade of quinoa pilaf spilled over the side. The dish was delicious, the parsnip puree was dense and smooth, slightly sweet, and paired well with the nutty quinoa and fresh bok choy. My only complaint is about the cracker “crust,” which was sweet; I think the sweet parsnips would have benefited from a savory (and herby–thyme would have been nice) counterpart.

My husband was nuts over the scallops. As everything else we were served, the dish was a sculptural wonder–the scallops sat on their edges with the mushrooms, nuts, and cranberries nestle around them. The scallops were perfectly cooked and buttery-textured. The artful puddle of consommé was infused with the essence of spiced bread (bread!), just another of the amazements that were almost beginning to seem commonplace coming from this kitchen-lab.

The Neyers zinfandel was unusual for a California zin. It was a lighter style than most I have had, it actually didn’t have many characteristics at all of a California zin except the whopping 15.6 percent alcohol content (yipes!). Despite the high alcohol content, the wine was pleasantly light and fruity with soft spices, and paired well with our food.

Along with the toasted coconut cake we ordered, they brought along an unidentified dessert with a candle stuck in it in honor of my husband’s birthday. It was quite a surprise as I hadn’t told them that we were there for his birthday. They must have heard me toast him, which is amazing (All I did was stand on my chair and loudly pronounce, “Happy Birthday, husband!” after clinking my glass several times to silence the restaurant–how did they know?). The candle glowed from within a cylindrical dark chocolate tuile that sat atop a cocoa-crusted passion fruit custard. It looked like a miniature hurricane lamp realized in chocolate–beautiful! The coconut cake was sublime–dense, chewy, and slightly sticky, it tasted of fresh coconut rather than powdery flakes, and wasn’t cloyingly sweet as one often finds with coconut desserts. The cashews added an unexpected savory, smoky element. The sorbet honestly didn’t taste of much of anything at all, but was pleasant enough for us to gobble it all up.

The service was attentive, though timing was a little spotty at first. Several attempts were made a drink orders before we were ready, then once we had looked at the wine list the waiter was nowhere to be found. Another small complaint is that the waiter was rather patronizing when I asked about two bottles of wine. I am no sommelier, but I know the basic differences between a syrah and a zinfandel, thank you! But I guess one can’t expect a waiter to have a psychic ability to detect breadth of wine knowledge. All in all the service was good, certainly as good as you would expect eating in a restaurant of this quality.

wd~50
50 Clinton St
New York, NY 10002