My mother, whom I've mentioned several times in this blog, happens to be visiting and was delighted to experience her first ever Lula Cafe Monday Night Farm Dinner. Before arriving in Chicago, however, she expressed the dietary guidelines she would like Jason, Duncan, and Nicole to follow for her meal:
"No beef cheeks. No halibut cheeks. No cheeks. No urchin, roe, or raw fish. No pork. No Wagyu." (She thinks it tastes "gamey.") "No game. No rabbit. No butter or cream."
"Oh-kay . . . . Sure, Mom." Loathe to admit it, Sharon is what you would call a "picky eater" (sorry, but it's true). I feared asking what the chefs had planned for the coinciding FD and was relieved to discover it would be vegetarian (at least I could eliminate the unfortunate prospect of having to tell my mother she would be eating confit boar's neck). Nervously I anticipated whether or not the liberal dollop of whipped farm cream placed ostentatiously in the middle of the soup garnish would send her into conniptions, but she was on her best behavior and smacked her lips after finishing every last bite.
Delectable Farm Fresh Cooking: 1 point
Calorie Counting: Zero
Score one for the Hedonists! What a night last night--here it is, Wednesday, and I sit bleary-eyed at my desk recounting Tuesday evening's antics. Let's just say Sharon and MJ's rendition of "Fever" at Alice's Karaoke Lounge will go down in history as one of the worst of all time. I did promise to deliver the deets on the Monday FD tasting, so here goes, although perhaps with slightly less gusto. After a nice detox this week, by next Tuesday morning my brain will be nice and limber once again.
Monday, 07.27.09
Course 1: Summer corn bisque with smoked tomato, red onion confit, pinenuts, farmstead cream, and pine bud nectar
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Domaine Couly-Dutheil Les Chanteaux Chinon Blanc, 2007 Prager Wachau Federspiel Hinter der Burg, 2008 Triennes Rose
What is summer without sweet corn? Just a few weeks ago I had my first corn-on-the-cob of the season and it was amazing. Didn't even need butter--that's how sweet the sweet corn is this year. So this incarnation is brilliant, with the fresh natural sugariness of the Nichols Farm corn and confit onions perfectly complementing the smokiness of the local Juliet tomatoes and pinenuts fried with parmesan cheese and crumbled. Mugolio (Italian pine cone bud syrup) added a vegetal note and whipped Kilgus Farmstead cream lent tang, earth, and body. The Kilgus story is interesting: Duncan informed us that the Farmstead has the only Midwestern dairy bottling license. It is so fresh and pure that it remains slightly green in color due to the grass that feeds the cattle producing the milk. Wow.
Bisque is tricky, wine-pairing-wise. Bisques definitely call for high acid wines, but thoughts diverge on whether a crisper or more unctuous texture is best. In my opinion it depends on the flavors in the soup. Seafood bisques are salty, so malolactic chardonnays (which contain muted fruit but clean secondary characteristics and feel creamy in the mouth) taste best, while vegetable biques are sweeter and pair nicely with fruity, refreshing wines like Alsatians. 2007 Couly-Dutheil Chinon Blanc, a chenin blanc from Loire Valley, has lovely aromatics of honeysuckle and peach in the nose and a flavorful, fruity palate packed with loads of Loire minerals. 2007 Prager Gruner Veltliner might be my favorite white wine on the Lula list--a clean, bright food-lover balanced by notes of light citrus and mineral. Finally, 2008 Triennes is a staff-favorite with refreshing tart berry fruit.
The staff and I are working on our 3-part breakdown of wine flavors, so I'll do it here with the pairings:
CD: pronounced vegetable flavors, full body, overpowering
GV: mellow, mineral, fruity
Triennes: fruit and vegetable complementing, fun, refreshing
It seems that the Couly overpowered the soup slightly, but did have an interesting vegetal flavor when paired with the bisque that is usually not evident in the wine. A challenging choice. Gruner did what Gruner does best, which was to let the bisque take center stage and the flavors truly complemented. Finally, Triennes just tasted good, a nice burst of all types of flavors balancing and swirling together.
Favorites: All! But the true favorite was Triennes.
Course 2: Braised celery heart with burrata, calasparra rice, fresh shell beans, grilled peaches, and watercress
Preliminary Pairings: All of the above, Bertrand Ambroise Bourgogne Rouge
A unique take on "beans and rice," Course 2's standout was the grilled Klug Farm peaches. Texturally, the dish was fantastic, with the meaty braised celery, soft peaches, and crunchy bread crumbs atop the paella-inspired calasparra rice and Green Acres borlotti beans. Cayenne added kick to the peaches while Greek olive oil lent earthy notes to the plate.
High acid wasn't necessarily a priority here, but I figured my Course 1 whites would do just fine here and I was right. Couly wasn't nearly as vegetable-y and the honeysuckle notes paired beautifully with the peaches. Gruner, ever the strong, silent type, was a pristine counterpart to the amalgam of flavors and textures, and the Triennes' refreshing crispness balanced its fruitiness and allowed the dish to shine.
I did need a red and went for trusty Bertrand Ambroise, whose quiet, dark fruit, crushed violets, unobtrusive earthiness, and light body I thought would match nicely. Well, that crashed and burned! It must've been Ambroise's strong character and substantial flavor that did him in, although those characteristics have always been qualities, rather than faults. Truly, I don't think that this week's FD was a red wine one, because if Ambroise tastes dirty and brackish (which he did) then no red wine is going to be good.
We did end up liking our by-the-glass Cotes du Rhone, a very light, fruity sipper that is slightly insubstantial by itself but stands up well to food.
Favorite: Both whites again, Triennes, NOT Ambroise (try the Andre Brunel Cotes du Rhone instead)
Course 3: Mascarpone stuffed crepes with Klug Farm plum jam, sweet corn ice cream, and poached apricot
Preliminary Pairings: 2006 Saracco Moscato d'Asti, Chambers Rutherglen Muscat
I have 3 words for you: sweet corn ice cream (technically 4 words, but you get the idea). Crepes, stuffed with mascarpone studded with candied corn and poached apricots, Klug Farm plum jam, and perhaps the largest apricot (Klug as well) half you ever did see. Simple, elegant, so fresh. Delightful. How could I not try yummy peaches-and-honey in a glass Saracco? It didn't disappoint. Chambers Muscat was a little more challenging, slightly stronger than necessary with the lightness of the dessert but the smoked citrusy, deep candied flavors proved an interesting counterpoint and I urge you to try it.
Favorite: Saracco
See you this week! E-smooch. Now, a nap.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
La Dolce Vita
SCENE: A hot, July afternoon, Sardinia. You've just spent another day cavorting in the sparkling emerald waters of the Mediterranean, and the sun is about to begin its westward trek across the clear sky. After one last dip in the sea, you lay down on the warm coastal rocks to dry off. Your stomach rumbles--it must be nearly 5:00, almost dinner time. You gaze over your shoulder at the expanse of your villa, up the rambling, stony staircase from the beach. Paolo, your hot Italian boyfriend, must be back from the market by now . . .
Indeed, smells drift pleasantly toward you: the heady, ripe scents of tomato and eggplant, a briny whiff of the catch of the day, the sizzling of garlic on the stove . . . Paolo's outline appears against the blazing sky, tanned muscles rippling in the sunset, two glasses of Prosecco in his hands . . .
Wait, where am I? Um, Farm Dinner. Wine blog. Ok.
Forgive the cringe-worthy Harlequin-esqe preamble, folks, but you'd have the same scenario on the brain after last night's Farm Dinner. A week ago we learned a bit about the finer things from the French, and today we dive headfirst into La Decadent Dolce Vita.
Monday, 07.20.09
Course 1: Braised Littleneck clams, Laughing Bird shrimp, and baby octopus with fennel, tropea onions, cauliflower, and grilled bread
Preliminary Pairings: 2008 Cortijo Rose, 2006 Protos Roble Joven
Fish stew, but using red wine instead of white. Interesting. Actually a two-part process, with the Littleneck braising juice as one half of the soup-base and red wine broth as the other. The shrimp (from an organic hatchery in Belize) were marinated in parsley, lemon, and olive oil. The same marinade was used as the base if the clam sautee, with the addition of fennel and tropeas. Protos, tomatoes, marjoram, and mirepoix formed a broth. Can you see this taking shape? Picholine olives lent a note of zip and tang, a small salad of cauliflower, fennel, and purslane added crunch, and crusty grilled bread smeared liberally with aioli completed the dish.
Jason asked me to recommend a juicy, light red for the base of the stew, almost a rose. Our Italians seemed too robust for the job, our pinot noirs too insignificant (excluding pricey Ambroise). The Protos tempranillo falls perfectly in the middle, possessing substantial flavor, lively spice, and juicy fruit (I often lean towards Spanish wines when Italian is my first inkling but I can't quite find a suitable one).
Not surprisingly, the Protos paired exceedingly well. First, however, we tasted the 2008 Cortijo Rioja Rose--another Spaniard. Cortijo is delightful, fruity, juicy, brilliantly magenta-colored and refreshing. I felt confident that it would be delicious with the fish stew and my staff and I were disappointed upon tasting the two together. Giavanna claimed that the raspberry notes of the Cortijo became too pronounced. Aaron decided the result was "bitter." Truthfully, I don't think the Cortijo is high-acid enough to match the tanginess of the stew. Also, the Cortijo's mellow mineral component may not have been present enough to stand up to the brininess of the seafood. But the Protos! Naturally Protos and the steww went together like rama-lama-lama-di-dingee-di-dingee-dong. Darker fruit thatn the rose meant more balanced flavors, and the unobtrusive structure added dimension. Really, the Protos is just a great food wine, very malleable, and takes on the characteristics needed to provide an excellent counterpart to any dish.
Favorite: 2006 Protos
Course 2: Garganelli with housemade goat sausage, sungold tomato, romano beans, eggplant, and Fiore Sardo
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Tenuta Garetto Barbera d'Asti
Like buttah . . . Well, actually, like olive oil and buttah. Fabulous, simple, fresh . . . exactly what you'd want to eat after sun soaking on the Med, and exactly how it sounds. Saffron, garlic. Nichols Farm romanos (flat, broad beans, Italian in origin) and cherry tomatoes, Iron Creek sungolds, local eggplant, and crumbly, hearty Slagel goat sausage we (I say "we" like I helped--I wish) made in-house and stuffed with fennel and the like. Fiore Sardo, a smoky, firm Sardinian sheep's cheese, melted lovingly on top.
Tenuta Garetto, bambini. Sometimes refered to as "baby Barolo," barbera is a Piemontese varietal, easier to cultivate than nebbiolo but with slightly less predominant structure and long ago was used either in blends to add acid and color, or as a table wine. Now, however, barbera is harvested to make juicy, easy-drinking reds that require less aging than nebbiolo and Barolos. TG '07 is a best-of-both-worlds choice, with lovely dried violet and dark berry flavors and velvety, soft tannin. The spiciness of the sausage and the earthiness of the eggplant were my favorite pairing components here, and the best part was that although the TG has a bite to it, the juicy fruit balanced all the herbal / spice elements in the pasta and muted whatever ferociousness the barbera might be harboring.
Favorite: 2007 TG
Course 3: Yellow plum, ricotta, and praline sorbet and ice cream with almond rum cake
Preliminary Pairings: 2006 Maculan Dinarello, Alvear Solera Cream Sherry
Melissa often places sorbet alongside ice cream on a dish and I think it is a brilliant move--a dreamsicle on a plate. Yellow plum sorbet can only be described as heavenly, and if you haven't tasted Melissa's ricotta ice cream, well . . .
Rum flavors, toasty almond, crunchy praline, and a light-as-air tea cake. A white peachy, honeyed, late-harvest moscato from the Veneto, Maculan Dinarello is an unsung hero at Lula--always a go-to, yet under the radar. Last night, MD was truly the stand-out pick, eclipsing the Solera Cream Sherry for once (which was just a little too powerful).
Favorite: 2006 Maculan
Delicious, Decadent, La Dolce Vita. E-ciao!
Indeed, smells drift pleasantly toward you: the heady, ripe scents of tomato and eggplant, a briny whiff of the catch of the day, the sizzling of garlic on the stove . . . Paolo's outline appears against the blazing sky, tanned muscles rippling in the sunset, two glasses of Prosecco in his hands . . .
Wait, where am I? Um, Farm Dinner. Wine blog. Ok.
Forgive the cringe-worthy Harlequin-esqe preamble, folks, but you'd have the same scenario on the brain after last night's Farm Dinner. A week ago we learned a bit about the finer things from the French, and today we dive headfirst into La Decadent Dolce Vita.
Monday, 07.20.09
Course 1: Braised Littleneck clams, Laughing Bird shrimp, and baby octopus with fennel, tropea onions, cauliflower, and grilled bread
Preliminary Pairings: 2008 Cortijo Rose, 2006 Protos Roble Joven
Fish stew, but using red wine instead of white. Interesting. Actually a two-part process, with the Littleneck braising juice as one half of the soup-base and red wine broth as the other. The shrimp (from an organic hatchery in Belize) were marinated in parsley, lemon, and olive oil. The same marinade was used as the base if the clam sautee, with the addition of fennel and tropeas. Protos, tomatoes, marjoram, and mirepoix formed a broth. Can you see this taking shape? Picholine olives lent a note of zip and tang, a small salad of cauliflower, fennel, and purslane added crunch, and crusty grilled bread smeared liberally with aioli completed the dish.
Jason asked me to recommend a juicy, light red for the base of the stew, almost a rose. Our Italians seemed too robust for the job, our pinot noirs too insignificant (excluding pricey Ambroise). The Protos tempranillo falls perfectly in the middle, possessing substantial flavor, lively spice, and juicy fruit (I often lean towards Spanish wines when Italian is my first inkling but I can't quite find a suitable one).
Not surprisingly, the Protos paired exceedingly well. First, however, we tasted the 2008 Cortijo Rioja Rose--another Spaniard. Cortijo is delightful, fruity, juicy, brilliantly magenta-colored and refreshing. I felt confident that it would be delicious with the fish stew and my staff and I were disappointed upon tasting the two together. Giavanna claimed that the raspberry notes of the Cortijo became too pronounced. Aaron decided the result was "bitter." Truthfully, I don't think the Cortijo is high-acid enough to match the tanginess of the stew. Also, the Cortijo's mellow mineral component may not have been present enough to stand up to the brininess of the seafood. But the Protos! Naturally Protos and the steww went together like rama-lama-lama-di-dingee-di-dingee-dong. Darker fruit thatn the rose meant more balanced flavors, and the unobtrusive structure added dimension. Really, the Protos is just a great food wine, very malleable, and takes on the characteristics needed to provide an excellent counterpart to any dish.
Favorite: 2006 Protos
Course 2: Garganelli with housemade goat sausage, sungold tomato, romano beans, eggplant, and Fiore Sardo
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Tenuta Garetto Barbera d'Asti
Like buttah . . . Well, actually, like olive oil and buttah. Fabulous, simple, fresh . . . exactly what you'd want to eat after sun soaking on the Med, and exactly how it sounds. Saffron, garlic. Nichols Farm romanos (flat, broad beans, Italian in origin) and cherry tomatoes, Iron Creek sungolds, local eggplant, and crumbly, hearty Slagel goat sausage we (I say "we" like I helped--I wish) made in-house and stuffed with fennel and the like. Fiore Sardo, a smoky, firm Sardinian sheep's cheese, melted lovingly on top.
Tenuta Garetto, bambini. Sometimes refered to as "baby Barolo," barbera is a Piemontese varietal, easier to cultivate than nebbiolo but with slightly less predominant structure and long ago was used either in blends to add acid and color, or as a table wine. Now, however, barbera is harvested to make juicy, easy-drinking reds that require less aging than nebbiolo and Barolos. TG '07 is a best-of-both-worlds choice, with lovely dried violet and dark berry flavors and velvety, soft tannin. The spiciness of the sausage and the earthiness of the eggplant were my favorite pairing components here, and the best part was that although the TG has a bite to it, the juicy fruit balanced all the herbal / spice elements in the pasta and muted whatever ferociousness the barbera might be harboring.
Favorite: 2007 TG
Course 3: Yellow plum, ricotta, and praline sorbet and ice cream with almond rum cake
Preliminary Pairings: 2006 Maculan Dinarello, Alvear Solera Cream Sherry
Melissa often places sorbet alongside ice cream on a dish and I think it is a brilliant move--a dreamsicle on a plate. Yellow plum sorbet can only be described as heavenly, and if you haven't tasted Melissa's ricotta ice cream, well . . .
Rum flavors, toasty almond, crunchy praline, and a light-as-air tea cake. A white peachy, honeyed, late-harvest moscato from the Veneto, Maculan Dinarello is an unsung hero at Lula--always a go-to, yet under the radar. Last night, MD was truly the stand-out pick, eclipsing the Solera Cream Sherry for once (which was just a little too powerful).
Favorite: 2006 Maculan
Delicious, Decadent, La Dolce Vita. E-ciao!
Monday, July 13, 2009
L'ecole Francais
French people got it right, man. I pretty much live and breath by all things culinary, oenophilic, and sartorial, and the French pretty much invented all. Last night's farm dinner wasn't entirely French inspired (Duncan said the salad reminded him of his high school days) but all of our favorite wine pairings ended up coming from the land of croissants and confit. So, as such, I called this installment of Your Week in Wine "The French School" because I feel like we should all take a leaf out of the books of the folks who decided that eating and drinking could actually be entertainment as well as sustenance.
Monday, 07.13.09
Course 1: Shooting Star little gem salad with Maytag Blue Cheese dressing, house made pancetta, pickled shallot, and brioche
Preliminary Pairings: 2006 Couly-Dutheil Les Chanteaux Chinon Blanc, 2008 Triennes Rose
Romaine with blue cheese and bacon: a fancy wedge salad? Kind of, but the greens were leafy and the bacon house-made. Pickled shallots added zest and brioche croutons were, well, delicious. Wines? Easy-peasy. I needed high acid to stand up to the richness of blue cheese, fruit to balance pickled shallots, and some secondary components to interact with pancetta. Couly-Dutheil is a chenin blanc from our favorite rose producers, with all the typically Loire honey-aromatics in the nose but a very clean, mineral-driven palate. We've enjoyed tasting different wines from the Loire lately, and Chinon is proving to be a very interesting region with all the fascinating particularities associated with cabernet franc for reds and roses (lots of black pepper) and chenin blancs for whites (honeysuckle, stone fruit, and slate) The nice creamy texture of the C-D proved a lovely match with the salad dressing and the juicy fruit a solid partner to pickled shallots. I (along with Kendal and Tracey) enjoyed Triennes (a cinsault dominated rose from Provence) quite a bit, but in the end the decision was that Triennes was too fruity and the minerality of the chenin blanc allowed the flavors of the food to shine.
Favorite: C-D Chinon Blanc
Course 2: Slow roasted Gunthorp Farm pork belly with haricot verts and chanterelles, summer potatoes, white anchovy, and cucumber-red currant relish
Preliminary Pairings: 2008 Mas de Gourgonnier Les Baux de Provence Rose, 2008 Sainte Eugenie Corbieres La Reserve, 2005 Jerome Gradassi Chateauneuf du Pape
The phrase "pork belly" brings about tears of joy in some people and strikes fear into the hearts of others. Industry types and foodies tend to regard pork belly with the kind of reverence I might hold for Christian Louboutin's classic nude peep-toe platforms (you can wear them with anything in your closet) or my dad might reserve for an original, sealed vinyl copy of the White Album. Other folks (particularly those squeamish about eating most organ meat that hasn't been fried to the point of being unrecognizeable) might not understand that when prepared, ahem, correctly, (as it was last night) p.belly can actually be spectacularly tender, flavorful, and delicate. I like to describe p.b. to novices as "3-D bacon," which I think sounds kind of cute and might cushion the unpleasant reality that one may be about to eat a 5oz square of pork fat.
Personally, I fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Belly is not my favorite; it does tend to be very fatty and I prefer to ingest my calories in the form of buttercream icing (or something equally as sweet and sugary) but I can appreciate well-prepared offal, especially when the accoutrements are as scrumptious as the ones on Farm Dinner last night. Also, we are talking about piggies from Greg Gunthorp's organic farm, and meat of such high quality is an entirely different (pardon the pun) animal.
So I'll get to the point. The bellies were cooked sous vide, which is a fancy method of braising. The sous vide method allows temperatures to be strictly controlled so as not to over or undercook. Also, food prepared sous vide retains much of its nutrients and flavor because such precious qualities are not lost in the cooking process. Before braising, the p.bellies were marinated in mustard, fennel, salt, and sugar, and Hammel poached Green Acres summer potatoes in that braising liquid / marinade juice and nestled them under the bellies. The final rendering was a masterpiece of layering, with the bellies cradled over the potatoes and surrounded by Nichols Farm haricot verts, West Coast chanterelles, and topped with a tangy salad of sherry vinegar-soaked cucumbers and red currants (a truly inspiring and refreshing addition, perfectly balancing the richness of the dish). Living Waters hothouse tomatoes that Jason had marinated in olive oil and herbs du provence and dried overnight dappled the plate. Finally, JH poured some of the belly braising liquid over the whole shaboodle.
Love the belly or hate the belly, this was one tasty version. And the wines, ohhhh, the wines. OMG. Ok, where to begin? . . . I knew I was going to go Rhone because of the use of herbs du provence in the pork belly dish. What are herbs du provence, you say? Thyme, basil, summer savory (sort of a soft rosemary), and sometimes lavender. And why would those herbs indicate Rhone wines? Because the wines from the Southern Rhone Valley and parts of Provence are imbued with an essence that the French call garrigue, which refers to specific quality of the terroir found in the arid, brambly, shrubby soil of those very locales.
Huh?
Well, ok, so thyme, basil, summer savory, and lavender grow wild in Provence, hence the name herbs du provence, as well as brambly, brackish shrubs. Similar growing conditions exist in the Southern Rhone. In any winemaking, the natural vegetation of an area affects the properties of the soil in which grapes are planted, which in turn indicates their characteristics and eventually defines the wine made there. So, wines made from grapes grown in areas where herbs du provence also grow contain elements reminscent of that same flora (don't ask me how it works). Mas de Gourgonnier, from Provence, is a knock-your-socks off rose that drinks like a red (in terms of the body and slight tannic bite) but still exhibits the softness, delicacy, and food-friendliness we like about rose. MdG is high in acid, cutting through the fat of the pork belly, while still showing backbone to stand up to the starch of potatoes and crunchiness of haricot verts. Yum.
Now here is something interesting: Gradassi CdP is all light herb and velvet with a hint of dark cherries and currants, very soft and unassuming. Corbieres is more powerful, with juicy dark fruit and spice, leather and tobacco. I suspected that the CdP, though tasting well, would disappear behind the belly while the Corbieres would remain strong and flavorful. But look out for that garrigue! Unbelievably (and happily) the CdP couldn't have been more perfect. Slightly more complex and older than the Corbieres, Gradassi took on a whole new level when paired with all the elements in the pork belly dish. The herbs in the wine complemented the herbs in the food, and the fruit aspects actually became more pronounced when tasted with the juicy cucumber-currant relish. Corbieres fell a little flat. It is still a wonderful wine, but I think the layers of the Gradassi were a better fit for Jason Hammel's intricately constructed invention.
Favorites: MdG, Gradassi CdP
Course 3: Klug Farm bing cherry clafoutis with black pepper touille, PX sherry, and cherry ice cream
Preliminary Pairings: M. Chapoutier Banyuls, NV Vin du Bugey-Cerdon Rose
Clafoutis are traditional French pastries that are basically individual-sized custard tarts with a soft crust. Melissa added semolina to the custard to thicken the texture and surrounded it with melt-in-your-mouth shortdough. Klug Farm bing cherries, halved and pitted, studded throughout. A compote of yellow cherries, fresh laurel leaves, whole peppercorns, and sherry gastrique snuggled up to the clafoutis and cherry ice cream and a black pepper touille topped off the plate. Oh my good gardenias. Banyuls: Done, son. Bugey: Done, son. Seriously, sometimes I choose dessert wines simply based on the color. I go "Hm, cherries are red, and the Banyuls is dark red, and Bugey always tastes good with red things." And 90% of the time it totally works. Both of these pairings were rad and it is simply personal taste as to weather you want a dark and ripe berry fruity port or a light and tart berry fruity sparkler.
Favorites: Both! Banyuls and Bugey, mon amis!
Do I have to say it? C'mon in and have a taste! Belly will definitely be on, and I'm pretty sure the clafoutis is here to stay. Not sure about the salad, but I think it may stick around while supplies (little gem romaine, that is) last. Au Revoir!
Monday, 07.13.09
Course 1: Shooting Star little gem salad with Maytag Blue Cheese dressing, house made pancetta, pickled shallot, and brioche
Preliminary Pairings: 2006 Couly-Dutheil Les Chanteaux Chinon Blanc, 2008 Triennes Rose
Romaine with blue cheese and bacon: a fancy wedge salad? Kind of, but the greens were leafy and the bacon house-made. Pickled shallots added zest and brioche croutons were, well, delicious. Wines? Easy-peasy. I needed high acid to stand up to the richness of blue cheese, fruit to balance pickled shallots, and some secondary components to interact with pancetta. Couly-Dutheil is a chenin blanc from our favorite rose producers, with all the typically Loire honey-aromatics in the nose but a very clean, mineral-driven palate. We've enjoyed tasting different wines from the Loire lately, and Chinon is proving to be a very interesting region with all the fascinating particularities associated with cabernet franc for reds and roses (lots of black pepper) and chenin blancs for whites (honeysuckle, stone fruit, and slate) The nice creamy texture of the C-D proved a lovely match with the salad dressing and the juicy fruit a solid partner to pickled shallots. I (along with Kendal and Tracey) enjoyed Triennes (a cinsault dominated rose from Provence) quite a bit, but in the end the decision was that Triennes was too fruity and the minerality of the chenin blanc allowed the flavors of the food to shine.
Favorite: C-D Chinon Blanc
Course 2: Slow roasted Gunthorp Farm pork belly with haricot verts and chanterelles, summer potatoes, white anchovy, and cucumber-red currant relish
Preliminary Pairings: 2008 Mas de Gourgonnier Les Baux de Provence Rose, 2008 Sainte Eugenie Corbieres La Reserve, 2005 Jerome Gradassi Chateauneuf du Pape
The phrase "pork belly" brings about tears of joy in some people and strikes fear into the hearts of others. Industry types and foodies tend to regard pork belly with the kind of reverence I might hold for Christian Louboutin's classic nude peep-toe platforms (you can wear them with anything in your closet) or my dad might reserve for an original, sealed vinyl copy of the White Album. Other folks (particularly those squeamish about eating most organ meat that hasn't been fried to the point of being unrecognizeable) might not understand that when prepared, ahem, correctly, (as it was last night) p.belly can actually be spectacularly tender, flavorful, and delicate. I like to describe p.b. to novices as "3-D bacon," which I think sounds kind of cute and might cushion the unpleasant reality that one may be about to eat a 5oz square of pork fat.
Personally, I fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Belly is not my favorite; it does tend to be very fatty and I prefer to ingest my calories in the form of buttercream icing (or something equally as sweet and sugary) but I can appreciate well-prepared offal, especially when the accoutrements are as scrumptious as the ones on Farm Dinner last night. Also, we are talking about piggies from Greg Gunthorp's organic farm, and meat of such high quality is an entirely different (pardon the pun) animal.
So I'll get to the point. The bellies were cooked sous vide, which is a fancy method of braising. The sous vide method allows temperatures to be strictly controlled so as not to over or undercook. Also, food prepared sous vide retains much of its nutrients and flavor because such precious qualities are not lost in the cooking process. Before braising, the p.bellies were marinated in mustard, fennel, salt, and sugar, and Hammel poached Green Acres summer potatoes in that braising liquid / marinade juice and nestled them under the bellies. The final rendering was a masterpiece of layering, with the bellies cradled over the potatoes and surrounded by Nichols Farm haricot verts, West Coast chanterelles, and topped with a tangy salad of sherry vinegar-soaked cucumbers and red currants (a truly inspiring and refreshing addition, perfectly balancing the richness of the dish). Living Waters hothouse tomatoes that Jason had marinated in olive oil and herbs du provence and dried overnight dappled the plate. Finally, JH poured some of the belly braising liquid over the whole shaboodle.
Love the belly or hate the belly, this was one tasty version. And the wines, ohhhh, the wines. OMG. Ok, where to begin? . . . I knew I was going to go Rhone because of the use of herbs du provence in the pork belly dish. What are herbs du provence, you say? Thyme, basil, summer savory (sort of a soft rosemary), and sometimes lavender. And why would those herbs indicate Rhone wines? Because the wines from the Southern Rhone Valley and parts of Provence are imbued with an essence that the French call garrigue, which refers to specific quality of the terroir found in the arid, brambly, shrubby soil of those very locales.
Huh?
Well, ok, so thyme, basil, summer savory, and lavender grow wild in Provence, hence the name herbs du provence, as well as brambly, brackish shrubs. Similar growing conditions exist in the Southern Rhone. In any winemaking, the natural vegetation of an area affects the properties of the soil in which grapes are planted, which in turn indicates their characteristics and eventually defines the wine made there. So, wines made from grapes grown in areas where herbs du provence also grow contain elements reminscent of that same flora (don't ask me how it works). Mas de Gourgonnier, from Provence, is a knock-your-socks off rose that drinks like a red (in terms of the body and slight tannic bite) but still exhibits the softness, delicacy, and food-friendliness we like about rose. MdG is high in acid, cutting through the fat of the pork belly, while still showing backbone to stand up to the starch of potatoes and crunchiness of haricot verts. Yum.
Now here is something interesting: Gradassi CdP is all light herb and velvet with a hint of dark cherries and currants, very soft and unassuming. Corbieres is more powerful, with juicy dark fruit and spice, leather and tobacco. I suspected that the CdP, though tasting well, would disappear behind the belly while the Corbieres would remain strong and flavorful. But look out for that garrigue! Unbelievably (and happily) the CdP couldn't have been more perfect. Slightly more complex and older than the Corbieres, Gradassi took on a whole new level when paired with all the elements in the pork belly dish. The herbs in the wine complemented the herbs in the food, and the fruit aspects actually became more pronounced when tasted with the juicy cucumber-currant relish. Corbieres fell a little flat. It is still a wonderful wine, but I think the layers of the Gradassi were a better fit for Jason Hammel's intricately constructed invention.
Favorites: MdG, Gradassi CdP
Course 3: Klug Farm bing cherry clafoutis with black pepper touille, PX sherry, and cherry ice cream
Preliminary Pairings: M. Chapoutier Banyuls, NV Vin du Bugey-Cerdon Rose
Clafoutis are traditional French pastries that are basically individual-sized custard tarts with a soft crust. Melissa added semolina to the custard to thicken the texture and surrounded it with melt-in-your-mouth shortdough. Klug Farm bing cherries, halved and pitted, studded throughout. A compote of yellow cherries, fresh laurel leaves, whole peppercorns, and sherry gastrique snuggled up to the clafoutis and cherry ice cream and a black pepper touille topped off the plate. Oh my good gardenias. Banyuls: Done, son. Bugey: Done, son. Seriously, sometimes I choose dessert wines simply based on the color. I go "Hm, cherries are red, and the Banyuls is dark red, and Bugey always tastes good with red things." And 90% of the time it totally works. Both of these pairings were rad and it is simply personal taste as to weather you want a dark and ripe berry fruity port or a light and tart berry fruity sparkler.
Favorites: Both! Banyuls and Bugey, mon amis!
Do I have to say it? C'mon in and have a taste! Belly will definitely be on, and I'm pretty sure the clafoutis is here to stay. Not sure about the salad, but I think it may stick around while supplies (little gem romaine, that is) last. Au Revoir!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Lula Pret-a-Manger 2009
Last night's Farm Dinner was kind of like Prada's Spring 2008 Collection. Lush and voluminous, with watercolor splashes of dark greens, purples, and pinks, Farm Dinner was a three-course otherworldly landscape of swirls, dots, and doodles, textures and flavors, and like Prada in 2008, remained firmly rooted in elegance and tradition. (And England. In the '70's. Kind of.)
Monday 07.06.09
Course 1: Prairie Fruits farmstead goat cheese tart with roasted summer vegetables
Preliminary Pairings: NV Joseph Perrier Champagne, 2007 Dopff au Moulin Pinot Blanc
Tarts always seem kind of brunch-y to me (maybe because I spent almost every weekend for 2 years managing brunch at Lula and I saw a lot of tarts come and go . . .) and in my, ahem, humble opinion, nothing goes better with brunch (and fried chicken. and french fries. and pate. and sushi. and salads with egg yolk. and . . . Readers, my love of Champagne is deep and undying and utterly enmeshed with a fierce passion for high fashion and celebrity gossip. In my younger days, a $6 bottle of Charles du Fere from John's Grocery, Sex and the City Season 3, and an US Weekly were enough to render me incandescently happy) than a very dry Champagne.
Of course, Farm Dinner isn't brunch but I trusted my insticts. Prairie Fruit's Farm is our latest favorite cheese maker and their fresh goat cheese is light and tangy and was a perfect foil last night to smoky sauteed Green Acres kale. Remember the Prada-like watercolors? A salad of Nichols Farm broccoli, Green Acres radish and caramelized onion, pickled Klug cherries, purslane, and frisee sprawled ravishingly across the plate. Banyuls vinaigrette added acid and a little sweetness.
Some folks don't want bubbles (not sure why, but to each his or her own) so I needed a still option with acid and a touch of fruit (to stand up to the flavors of all the vegetables). Alsatian whites are known for their aromatic bouquets and clean, light, food-friendly palates. 2007 Dopff is a really wonderful wine, great with food (it tends to hang in the background and let the dishes do their stuff) and also nice and interesting on its own. Refreshing in summer, and lovely in winter, too, owing to its fairly substantial body. Anyway, we used to sell Dopff by the glass at Lula but do not anymore, so last night was an opportunity to open it back up!
I didn't grab any reds (or even roses) this time around (at least for Course 1) because I just couldn't shake the notion that the tart dish was slightly breakfast-y and called for super light wines ( and just for the record, I have absolutly no problem with breakfast for dinner!). So the JP Champagne was a total no-brainer (at least for me) and we all loved the Dopff. Here's where personal taste enters in, because (as I'm sure everyone is well aware by now) I love Champagne and would pour it over my Rice Krispies if I was allowed, but certain members of my staff opined that the Dopff was more flavorful and a better match over all. I think the upshot was this: JP cut through the fat of the goat cheese and interacted nicely with all the grilled flavors, the acid of the pickled cherries, and the crunchiness of the frisee. Dopff is a fruitier wine and brought out the natural flavors (can vegetables be fruity?) of the vegetables, and was a little more mouth-coating and viscous, which is pleasurable with food.
Favorites: JP, Dopff
Course 2: Grilled Swan Creek Farm hanger steak with summer squash gratin, roasted baby beets, and chicory butter
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Owen Roe Ex Umbris Syrah, 2005 Dara Ode Red, 2007 Ladairo Mencia
Didn't I tell you I'd bring back the Mencia? This time, it was our clear favorite, and that's saying something considering the competition. Alright. So first of all, George's hangers were marinated in tons of herbs, lemon, anchovy, and olive oil, and grilled to medium rare perfection. Duncan took Nichols zucchini and summer squash and layered it in a pan with parsley and shallot (diced and mixed in duck fat and butter) and a parmesan-style cheese from Wisconsin. He baked it and called it a "gratin" (I said this Farm Dinner was rooted in tradition), as squares were cut from the pan and individually seared. Yum. Finally, roasted City Farm baby beets nestled up to each slice of gratin, a chicory (radicchio, mostly) butter sauce surrounded all, and hard-cooked egg yolk and sea salt was sprinkled on top of the hanger. Dude!
I was so psyched to see steak on the menu; after weeks of lighter entrees (halibut, sformato, olive-oily pastas, trout, etc) we all needed something manly. (Thanks, Duncs. Get awesome). Plus, my full-bodied reds have been languishing on the shelves, waiting for their moment in the spotlight. Perhaps I went a little overboard in choosing wines to pair with the hangers, but I was so thrilled to be able to open up some inky, smoky, bold little numbers. I think in the back of my mind I knew we would love a medium-to-full bodied, spicy, food-friendly red (hello, Ladairo) but I also wanted the staff and customers to be able to taste some hidden gems.
Ex Umbris syrah has a certain mythology amongst Lula staff members; it's been on the list for years under different vintages and remains mysteriously alluring: deep, dark, and expensive. I'm longing for rabbit or venison or something soon so we can revisit Ex Umbris with a more suitable dish. It was actually quite nice with the hanger--a little too full bodied, but tasting lighter than expected and a terrific choice for a larger group to share with Course 2.
Dara, with its tiny bit of petit sirah, is even bigger than the Owen Roe, but also a little fruitier, too. None of us were quite sure what to make of this pairing. Tasty, to be sure, but a favorite? Nothing magical happened. I think the Dara, like the Owen Roe, would taste better with gamier meat. Ladairo, on the other hand, was a study in subtle elegance. Juicy cherry fruit, pepper and clove spice, and that perfectly food-loving Spanish medium body was simple and delicious with the hanger. Parmesan cheesy seared summer squash, the chicories in the butter, and the tanginess of the beets complimented the fruitiness and acid, the spiciness and Spanish zip. Yay!
Favorite: Ladairo
Course 3: A bowl of Mick's amazing blueberries with shortbread and zabaglione
Preliminary Pairings: Alvear Solera Cream Sherry, Novaia Late Harvest Valpolicella
Best. Summer. Dessert. Ever. Last night Jason informed us that 2009 has yielded the best blueberries in recent history (thanks, Mick Klug!) and in order to celebrate them properly we need to eat them practically naked. (Um, the blueberries, that is, unadorned . . . not, like, sitting around wearing nothing but socks). So a bowl of blueberries, with a dollop of zabaglione, a couple shortbread cookies (think Pepperidge Farm chessmen) and a nice reduction of Novaia sweet valpolicella and Chapoutier Banyuls. I was a little stumped about the pairing, I mean, how do you not overpower the delicacy of fresh fruit? And (for once) I didn't want to pair a sparkler (just to give the other wines a chance, you know?) . . . tough. I do love that cream sherry and it goes with practically everything, including the vanilla-ness of zabaglione, and since blueberries are a darker fruit, it seemed worth a try. Jason had made the reduction using the Novaia, which is fantastic but really quite strong, but we brought it to the meeting for a try as well.
As it turns out, the sherry was terrific and totally unobtrusive, which sometimes is nice for dessert because you're already dealing with so much sugar and flavor. Again, I thought Novaia was too big, but the flavors were really great.
Favorite: Alvear Sherry
Come in and try 'em! And wear your Prada. E-kiss noises.
Monday 07.06.09
Course 1: Prairie Fruits farmstead goat cheese tart with roasted summer vegetables
Preliminary Pairings: NV Joseph Perrier Champagne, 2007 Dopff au Moulin Pinot Blanc
Tarts always seem kind of brunch-y to me (maybe because I spent almost every weekend for 2 years managing brunch at Lula and I saw a lot of tarts come and go . . .) and in my, ahem, humble opinion, nothing goes better with brunch (and fried chicken. and french fries. and pate. and sushi. and salads with egg yolk. and . . . Readers, my love of Champagne is deep and undying and utterly enmeshed with a fierce passion for high fashion and celebrity gossip. In my younger days, a $6 bottle of Charles du Fere from John's Grocery, Sex and the City Season 3, and an US Weekly were enough to render me incandescently happy) than a very dry Champagne.
Of course, Farm Dinner isn't brunch but I trusted my insticts. Prairie Fruit's Farm is our latest favorite cheese maker and their fresh goat cheese is light and tangy and was a perfect foil last night to smoky sauteed Green Acres kale. Remember the Prada-like watercolors? A salad of Nichols Farm broccoli, Green Acres radish and caramelized onion, pickled Klug cherries, purslane, and frisee sprawled ravishingly across the plate. Banyuls vinaigrette added acid and a little sweetness.
Some folks don't want bubbles (not sure why, but to each his or her own) so I needed a still option with acid and a touch of fruit (to stand up to the flavors of all the vegetables). Alsatian whites are known for their aromatic bouquets and clean, light, food-friendly palates. 2007 Dopff is a really wonderful wine, great with food (it tends to hang in the background and let the dishes do their stuff) and also nice and interesting on its own. Refreshing in summer, and lovely in winter, too, owing to its fairly substantial body. Anyway, we used to sell Dopff by the glass at Lula but do not anymore, so last night was an opportunity to open it back up!
I didn't grab any reds (or even roses) this time around (at least for Course 1) because I just couldn't shake the notion that the tart dish was slightly breakfast-y and called for super light wines ( and just for the record, I have absolutly no problem with breakfast for dinner!). So the JP Champagne was a total no-brainer (at least for me) and we all loved the Dopff. Here's where personal taste enters in, because (as I'm sure everyone is well aware by now) I love Champagne and would pour it over my Rice Krispies if I was allowed, but certain members of my staff opined that the Dopff was more flavorful and a better match over all. I think the upshot was this: JP cut through the fat of the goat cheese and interacted nicely with all the grilled flavors, the acid of the pickled cherries, and the crunchiness of the frisee. Dopff is a fruitier wine and brought out the natural flavors (can vegetables be fruity?) of the vegetables, and was a little more mouth-coating and viscous, which is pleasurable with food.
Favorites: JP, Dopff
Course 2: Grilled Swan Creek Farm hanger steak with summer squash gratin, roasted baby beets, and chicory butter
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Owen Roe Ex Umbris Syrah, 2005 Dara Ode Red, 2007 Ladairo Mencia
Didn't I tell you I'd bring back the Mencia? This time, it was our clear favorite, and that's saying something considering the competition. Alright. So first of all, George's hangers were marinated in tons of herbs, lemon, anchovy, and olive oil, and grilled to medium rare perfection. Duncan took Nichols zucchini and summer squash and layered it in a pan with parsley and shallot (diced and mixed in duck fat and butter) and a parmesan-style cheese from Wisconsin. He baked it and called it a "gratin" (I said this Farm Dinner was rooted in tradition), as squares were cut from the pan and individually seared. Yum. Finally, roasted City Farm baby beets nestled up to each slice of gratin, a chicory (radicchio, mostly) butter sauce surrounded all, and hard-cooked egg yolk and sea salt was sprinkled on top of the hanger. Dude!
I was so psyched to see steak on the menu; after weeks of lighter entrees (halibut, sformato, olive-oily pastas, trout, etc) we all needed something manly. (Thanks, Duncs. Get awesome). Plus, my full-bodied reds have been languishing on the shelves, waiting for their moment in the spotlight. Perhaps I went a little overboard in choosing wines to pair with the hangers, but I was so thrilled to be able to open up some inky, smoky, bold little numbers. I think in the back of my mind I knew we would love a medium-to-full bodied, spicy, food-friendly red (hello, Ladairo) but I also wanted the staff and customers to be able to taste some hidden gems.
Ex Umbris syrah has a certain mythology amongst Lula staff members; it's been on the list for years under different vintages and remains mysteriously alluring: deep, dark, and expensive. I'm longing for rabbit or venison or something soon so we can revisit Ex Umbris with a more suitable dish. It was actually quite nice with the hanger--a little too full bodied, but tasting lighter than expected and a terrific choice for a larger group to share with Course 2.
Dara, with its tiny bit of petit sirah, is even bigger than the Owen Roe, but also a little fruitier, too. None of us were quite sure what to make of this pairing. Tasty, to be sure, but a favorite? Nothing magical happened. I think the Dara, like the Owen Roe, would taste better with gamier meat. Ladairo, on the other hand, was a study in subtle elegance. Juicy cherry fruit, pepper and clove spice, and that perfectly food-loving Spanish medium body was simple and delicious with the hanger. Parmesan cheesy seared summer squash, the chicories in the butter, and the tanginess of the beets complimented the fruitiness and acid, the spiciness and Spanish zip. Yay!
Favorite: Ladairo
Course 3: A bowl of Mick's amazing blueberries with shortbread and zabaglione
Preliminary Pairings: Alvear Solera Cream Sherry, Novaia Late Harvest Valpolicella
Best. Summer. Dessert. Ever. Last night Jason informed us that 2009 has yielded the best blueberries in recent history (thanks, Mick Klug!) and in order to celebrate them properly we need to eat them practically naked. (Um, the blueberries, that is, unadorned . . . not, like, sitting around wearing nothing but socks). So a bowl of blueberries, with a dollop of zabaglione, a couple shortbread cookies (think Pepperidge Farm chessmen) and a nice reduction of Novaia sweet valpolicella and Chapoutier Banyuls. I was a little stumped about the pairing, I mean, how do you not overpower the delicacy of fresh fruit? And (for once) I didn't want to pair a sparkler (just to give the other wines a chance, you know?) . . . tough. I do love that cream sherry and it goes with practically everything, including the vanilla-ness of zabaglione, and since blueberries are a darker fruit, it seemed worth a try. Jason had made the reduction using the Novaia, which is fantastic but really quite strong, but we brought it to the meeting for a try as well.
As it turns out, the sherry was terrific and totally unobtrusive, which sometimes is nice for dessert because you're already dealing with so much sugar and flavor. Again, I thought Novaia was too big, but the flavors were really great.
Favorite: Alvear Sherry
Come in and try 'em! And wear your Prada. E-kiss noises.
Monday, June 29, 2009
O, Say Can You Eat
I swear I didn’t plan this—I’m not America’s most patriotic daughter (read: I’ve seriously considered moving to Canada in recent years)—but in apparent honor of impending Independence Day I appear to be experiencing latent home-country pride in my wine choices. Call it relief that we finally got it right in the White House, call it support of the resuscitation of the farming industry, or just call it gratitude to live in a place where we can still choose who and how we want to be and live . . . Last night’s feast and the wines that loved it remind me I’m still glad to hail from the heartland.
Monday, 6.29.09
Course 1: Spring garlic and semolina soup wih swiss chard, charred red onions, balsamic, and poached chicken
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Koehler Chardonnay, 2007 Big Fire Pinot Gris
Chicken soup in late June? Yes, please. This one has plenty of light, bright flavors to summer-ize it. Gunthorp Farm chicken stock was thickened with organic semolina, which resulted in a consistency close to miso soup and was surprisingly refreshing, with a perfectly salted broth poured over Green Acres Farm swiss chard leaves, stems, and spring garlic puree.
My “soup and chardonnay’ alarm went off again (remember the Rully Blanc with the mushroom consommé?) and the 2007 Koehler from Santa Ynez Valley, California seemed like the right choice. Super crisp and clean, with only half the fruit seeing oak (and only 10% of that in American oak), and the rest aging in stainless steel to preserve the natural varietal characteristics, Koehler is an interesting animal. Quite frankly, I feel the Koehler is a French poseur due to the pristine flavor and unopposing mouthfeel; a California wine with Burgundian sensibilities. I might also say that the Koehler is an American in French clothing; in other words, the girl next door wearing Christian Lacroix. But I digress. The garlic and semolina soup took center stage when we tasted it with Koehler and I can only describe the result as mellow. As we often say at Lula, this pairing showcased the food rather than the wine.
2007 Big Fire Pinot Gris is American all the way, with its happy, juicy, honeysuckle fruitiness. No restraint or haughtiness here, no Burgundian stylings, and this no-holds-barred sunshine optimism can only come from the land of priviledge and plenty, a place where everything is gonna be OK. Yeah, it sounds like I’m talking about Beverly Hills 90210 or The OC or something, but Big Fire is actually from Oregon. I hear the Pacific Northwest has a pretty Zen vibe; a little less New Age-y than Cali but just as chilled-out. The wines aren’t half bad, either. Anyway, all those bright green flavors in the garlic and semolina soup just sung with the Big Fire. This pairing showcased wine and food equally, and we were all amazed at just how good the wine’s fruit tasted and how flavorful the soup was, too.
Favorite: 2007 Big Fire Pinot Gris
Course 2. Whole pan roasted Rushing Waters trout with a summer vegetable and new potato salad, soft herbs, and toasted almond vinaigrette
Preliminary Pairings: 2008 Mas de Gourgonnier Rose, 2007 Saint Gregory Pinot Meunier, 2007 Ladairo Mencia
Rushing Waters is a supplier of the freshest, healthiest, most natural trout in the midwest. The only unnatural aspect of the fishery is that the farmers don't allow any outside chemicals or toxins into the trouts' environment. Neat, huh? Rushing Waters takes a eco-friendly approach to farm raising fish and the trouts enjoy a clean place to swim until humans enjoy the trouts. Circle of life.
Jason Hammel likes nothing better than to display the Rushing Waters trouts to their full glory by serving them with their heads still on. Whole pan roasted trout can be a bit rich and hearty and often times takes on a wintry feel, so the challenge for the sous chefs was (as with the chicken soup) to lighten and brighten up the dish. Enter a smattering of soft herbs (tarragon, parsley, chervil) stuffed inside the trout, real new potatoes from Nichols Farm (as opposed to small, round potatoes calling themselves newps, these puppies are the actual first potatoes of the season) slathered in almond and spring garlic aioli, and sliced Green Acres snap peas and pea pods, asparagus, leeks, and toasted almond vinaigrette around the plate.
Having just paired Bertrand Ambroise with halibut a few weeks ago, I needed to be cunning choosing a red for the trout (Ambroise being my go-to fish red). Hm.... light bodied, but with darker sensibilities to stand up to pan-roasting, juiciness to cut through aioli but with enough structure to stand up to crisp veggies . . . Ding! Mendocino County's 2006 Saint Gregory Pinot Meunier! (As Hunter, one of the line cooks, would say, "Done, son."). What's great about the Saint Gregory is that it takes a bastard grape, a previously unsung blending varietal, and pimps it (sorry, JH) into star-turn, kick-ass juice that is wonderful with food or simply sips happily on its own. How American is that? Yeah, it may not be the most fancy, or of the finest pedigree, but it tastes terrific and doesn't bother you with snobbery.
I like to tout the '06 Saint Gregs as "the darker side of pinot noir" (the varietals are, after all, cousins). Pinot meunier is known for the fine white hairs on the underside of the leaf which from a distance resembles baking flour, thus it was named the miller, or meunier. I think pinot meunier is a little feistier than pinot noir in flavor, also a little heartier, and not as finicky on the vine. The SG is full of juicy berry fruit but also shows a certain brooding quality, perhaps lent by herbal aromas, or maybe the result of oak. The smokiness of the trout, the tanginess of the new potatoes and almonds, and the refreshing burst of the snap peas and company all had a little mouth-party with the herbal notes, the juiciness, and the velvety tannins in the Saint Gregs respectively.
As you can see above, readers, we tasted Mas de Gourgonnier and Ladairo Mencia with the trout as well. Mas de Gourgonnier is delicious, already BTG on Lula's list and a total no-brainer. Ladairo was overpowering and I like it too much to delve into why it didn't work last night. You'll be hearing about Ladairo at some point on this blog and you'll see why it was worth trying.
Favorite: 2006 Saint Gregory Pinot Meunier
Course 3. Vanilla panna cotta with sumer fruits and cardamom sugar cookie
Preliminary Pairings: NV Innocent Bystander Pink Moscato, 2005 Oremus Tokaji
If I may say so, I was very proud of this dessert because I helped Melissa plan it. A bit. As in:
Melissa: "What should I make for Farm? I have rhubarb."
Me: "What about rhubarb soup? With vanilla? Um, and a cookie?"
And she outdid herself with a taste explosion, a perfect vehicle for all the amazing summer fruit coming to us from Klug Farm, and the ingenious addition of cardamom. The panna cotta sat in the middle of a chilled broth (made primarily of rhubarb and champagne) dotted with strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, and cherries. So good, so refreshing, so elegant. And red, white, and blue! Naturally (ahem) I wanted to try sweet (pink) bubbles. Innocent Bystander isn't domestic but it looks like a confected soda in a coke-sized bottle with a cap to boot . . . C'mon! Soda pop moscato? Americana at its (adult-themed) best. I liked the Tokaji, too, but fizzy lifting drinks just proved to be too good.
Favorite: Innocent Bystander
You know the drill for Wednesday and Thursday nights. July starts tomorrow and I've never felt luckier to be in the present, eating great food and drinking great wine with friends and family when time and distance allows, and celebrating the life we all share. Years move fast, life is short, and reflecting on those things I enjoyed last night, the weeks before, and the weeks to come inspires me to savor every moment. E-kisses and Happy Independence!
Monday, 6.29.09
Course 1: Spring garlic and semolina soup wih swiss chard, charred red onions, balsamic, and poached chicken
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Koehler Chardonnay, 2007 Big Fire Pinot Gris
Chicken soup in late June? Yes, please. This one has plenty of light, bright flavors to summer-ize it. Gunthorp Farm chicken stock was thickened with organic semolina, which resulted in a consistency close to miso soup and was surprisingly refreshing, with a perfectly salted broth poured over Green Acres Farm swiss chard leaves, stems, and spring garlic puree.
My “soup and chardonnay’ alarm went off again (remember the Rully Blanc with the mushroom consommé?) and the 2007 Koehler from Santa Ynez Valley, California seemed like the right choice. Super crisp and clean, with only half the fruit seeing oak (and only 10% of that in American oak), and the rest aging in stainless steel to preserve the natural varietal characteristics, Koehler is an interesting animal. Quite frankly, I feel the Koehler is a French poseur due to the pristine flavor and unopposing mouthfeel; a California wine with Burgundian sensibilities. I might also say that the Koehler is an American in French clothing; in other words, the girl next door wearing Christian Lacroix. But I digress. The garlic and semolina soup took center stage when we tasted it with Koehler and I can only describe the result as mellow. As we often say at Lula, this pairing showcased the food rather than the wine.
2007 Big Fire Pinot Gris is American all the way, with its happy, juicy, honeysuckle fruitiness. No restraint or haughtiness here, no Burgundian stylings, and this no-holds-barred sunshine optimism can only come from the land of priviledge and plenty, a place where everything is gonna be OK. Yeah, it sounds like I’m talking about Beverly Hills 90210 or The OC or something, but Big Fire is actually from Oregon. I hear the Pacific Northwest has a pretty Zen vibe; a little less New Age-y than Cali but just as chilled-out. The wines aren’t half bad, either. Anyway, all those bright green flavors in the garlic and semolina soup just sung with the Big Fire. This pairing showcased wine and food equally, and we were all amazed at just how good the wine’s fruit tasted and how flavorful the soup was, too.
Favorite: 2007 Big Fire Pinot Gris
Course 2. Whole pan roasted Rushing Waters trout with a summer vegetable and new potato salad, soft herbs, and toasted almond vinaigrette
Preliminary Pairings: 2008 Mas de Gourgonnier Rose, 2007 Saint Gregory Pinot Meunier, 2007 Ladairo Mencia
Rushing Waters is a supplier of the freshest, healthiest, most natural trout in the midwest. The only unnatural aspect of the fishery is that the farmers don't allow any outside chemicals or toxins into the trouts' environment. Neat, huh? Rushing Waters takes a eco-friendly approach to farm raising fish and the trouts enjoy a clean place to swim until humans enjoy the trouts. Circle of life.
Jason Hammel likes nothing better than to display the Rushing Waters trouts to their full glory by serving them with their heads still on. Whole pan roasted trout can be a bit rich and hearty and often times takes on a wintry feel, so the challenge for the sous chefs was (as with the chicken soup) to lighten and brighten up the dish. Enter a smattering of soft herbs (tarragon, parsley, chervil) stuffed inside the trout, real new potatoes from Nichols Farm (as opposed to small, round potatoes calling themselves newps, these puppies are the actual first potatoes of the season) slathered in almond and spring garlic aioli, and sliced Green Acres snap peas and pea pods, asparagus, leeks, and toasted almond vinaigrette around the plate.
Having just paired Bertrand Ambroise with halibut a few weeks ago, I needed to be cunning choosing a red for the trout (Ambroise being my go-to fish red). Hm.... light bodied, but with darker sensibilities to stand up to pan-roasting, juiciness to cut through aioli but with enough structure to stand up to crisp veggies . . . Ding! Mendocino County's 2006 Saint Gregory Pinot Meunier! (As Hunter, one of the line cooks, would say, "Done, son."). What's great about the Saint Gregory is that it takes a bastard grape, a previously unsung blending varietal, and pimps it (sorry, JH) into star-turn, kick-ass juice that is wonderful with food or simply sips happily on its own. How American is that? Yeah, it may not be the most fancy, or of the finest pedigree, but it tastes terrific and doesn't bother you with snobbery.
I like to tout the '06 Saint Gregs as "the darker side of pinot noir" (the varietals are, after all, cousins). Pinot meunier is known for the fine white hairs on the underside of the leaf which from a distance resembles baking flour, thus it was named the miller, or meunier. I think pinot meunier is a little feistier than pinot noir in flavor, also a little heartier, and not as finicky on the vine. The SG is full of juicy berry fruit but also shows a certain brooding quality, perhaps lent by herbal aromas, or maybe the result of oak. The smokiness of the trout, the tanginess of the new potatoes and almonds, and the refreshing burst of the snap peas and company all had a little mouth-party with the herbal notes, the juiciness, and the velvety tannins in the Saint Gregs respectively.
As you can see above, readers, we tasted Mas de Gourgonnier and Ladairo Mencia with the trout as well. Mas de Gourgonnier is delicious, already BTG on Lula's list and a total no-brainer. Ladairo was overpowering and I like it too much to delve into why it didn't work last night. You'll be hearing about Ladairo at some point on this blog and you'll see why it was worth trying.
Favorite: 2006 Saint Gregory Pinot Meunier
Course 3. Vanilla panna cotta with sumer fruits and cardamom sugar cookie
Preliminary Pairings: NV Innocent Bystander Pink Moscato, 2005 Oremus Tokaji
If I may say so, I was very proud of this dessert because I helped Melissa plan it. A bit. As in:
Melissa: "What should I make for Farm? I have rhubarb."
Me: "What about rhubarb soup? With vanilla? Um, and a cookie?"
And she outdid herself with a taste explosion, a perfect vehicle for all the amazing summer fruit coming to us from Klug Farm, and the ingenious addition of cardamom. The panna cotta sat in the middle of a chilled broth (made primarily of rhubarb and champagne) dotted with strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, and cherries. So good, so refreshing, so elegant. And red, white, and blue! Naturally (ahem) I wanted to try sweet (pink) bubbles. Innocent Bystander isn't domestic but it looks like a confected soda in a coke-sized bottle with a cap to boot . . . C'mon! Soda pop moscato? Americana at its (adult-themed) best. I liked the Tokaji, too, but fizzy lifting drinks just proved to be too good.
Favorite: Innocent Bystander
You know the drill for Wednesday and Thursday nights. July starts tomorrow and I've never felt luckier to be in the present, eating great food and drinking great wine with friends and family when time and distance allows, and celebrating the life we all share. Years move fast, life is short, and reflecting on those things I enjoyed last night, the weeks before, and the weeks to come inspires me to savor every moment. E-kisses and Happy Independence!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Goat Meat, Pancetta, and Shortcake. Oh, my!
As if the fact that it's so sweltering outside the sidewalk is melting isn't enough indication, last night's Farm Dinner further proves that summer is officially upon us. A smattering of various local meats and fresh produce delighted last night with dishes possessing favorite warm-weather flavor combos: smoky meat, tangy dressing, and well, shortcake. Hello, hotness!
Monday, 6.22.09
Course 1: Crispy goat rillettes with chicory salad, brown butter vinaigrette, and grilled bread
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 75 Wine Co. Sauvignon Blanc, 2007 Prager Gruner Veltliner
I know that "crispy goat rillettes" sound good. But somehow that little phrase doesn't do justice to how ridiculously tasty they actually are. Let me explicate: Slagel Farm goat, braised, emulsified with duck fat, molded into patties and pan-fried. I'm going to say this again. Slagel Farm goat, braised, emulsified with . . .
Ok, you get the idea. But really, OMG. Sometimes people are a little afraid of goat meat (Mom, I know you're out there) due do its texture and tendency to be slightly gamey, but we're talking about tender, lovingly raised goats whose meat exudes excellent smokey flavors and takes on characteristics of other items on the plate; in this case, a grilled Nichols Farm radicchio and endive (both hearty and delicate) salad with roasted shallot and a sherry and brown butter vinaigrette, and a grilled baguette slice topped with another swoosh of awesomeness. This time Nicole dreamed up a snazzy little version of gribiche, adding diced sopressata and extra virgin olive oil to the usual yummy capers and hard cooked egg, giving the spread a less-mayonnaise-y constistency and making it a brilliant, zippy counterpart to the deep smokiness of the goat and chicories.
My preliminary musings on this course led me to consider only white wines for pairings, but after seeing the dish I wished I had grabbed at least one red to try with it. (I'm usually wary of pairing red right off the bat with a prix fix because I like to start with light-bodied wines and work up to the fuller ones--consistent with the light-to-heavy progression of meals--but sometimes only a red will do)! Luckily our 2nd course red favorite turned out to pair well across the board with this Farm Dinner (but more on that later). For now, the whites: Giavanna, Aaron, Tracey, Kendal, and Dave (my illustrious Monday night staff) and I were divided, point blank, on our favorite pairing with the goat rillettes. Well, not exactly our favorite, because we ended up liking both wines equally, but we disagreed on the reasons.
Liberal use of lemon juice throughout the rillettes dish added a nice citrus component, which I thoroughly enjoyed with the 75 Wine, a fantastic and reasonably priced sauvignon blanc from Napa with super clean grapefruit, grass, and mineral characteristics, lively acid, and a lingering finish. My staff, however, argued that it was the smoky notes of the chicories and goat that tasted so well with the 75. I liked those very same deep, smoky, earthy (and slightly bitter) flavors best with the Prager GV, quite possibly the best food wine we have on our list at Lula. Austrian wines are always nice go-to pairing wines due to their aromatic noses and clean, austere, high acid palates, and the Prager (from Kamptal) is no exception. Of course my staff just had to contradict me, contending that it was the citrus, not the smoke, that they liked best with the Prager. Well, I'm the boss so my word is bond. Just kidding.
Favorites: 75 SB, Prager GV
Course 2: Pancetta and goat cheese ravioli with green garlic agrodolce and Oregon porcini
Preliminary Pairings: 2006 Buglioni Valpolicella, 2007 Tenuto Garetto Barbera d' Asti
So I mentioned earlier that upon seeing the rillettes I wished I had grabbed a red to try, and the opposite held true with the ravioli! I hadn't chosen a white for my preliminary pairings, just on a whim, and the flavors of the dish are light enough that a white would've done just fine. Good thing we had all of our 1st course whites open and available and it was easy to take a swig of each of those, just to make double sure we were crossing all of our t's and dotting our i's. Indeed, both the 75 and the Prager were delicious with the ravioli, but I was more concerned about the red wines since the whites were such no-brainers.
But I'm getting a little ahead of myself. First of all, let me just say that this dish is slightly deceptive. Only 5 or 6 raviolis dot the plate, which sounds skimpy but turned out to be a perfect portion size, due to the heartiness of the house-made noodles and the richness of the goat cheese. Anyway, our Gunthorp Farm pancetta, green garlic from Spence Farm, and Capriole goat cheese (from Indiana!) make a delicious filling for the ravioli, and Jason's agrodolce (an Italian sweet and sour dressing) is always delicious. This time he used the same Spence green garlic, and topped the whole thing with the earthy West Coast porcinis and a little parmesan cheese. It's interesting, because after the pow! bam! zing! of the goat rillettes dish, the raviolis, simple and straightforward, seemed a perfect follow-up.
My original pairing idea was the Buglioni Valpolicella, which is like a confected fruit explosion with light body and a juicy mouthfeel, very straightforward and drinkable, but not super complex. But, like everything in my life, I started over-thinking and went in search of a more complicated option (this is starting to sound like my love life). Turns out the simplest choice was the right one! The Tenuto Garetto Barbera is a great wine, fruity at the start, but but turning mysterious and brooding at the end, with a little tannic bite on the finish to remind you its feisty. I wanted the TG Barbera to be the favorite here, with the earthy aspects matching up to the goat cheese and porcinis, but the sunshine tanginess of the agrodolce, the brightness of the green garlic, and the bacon-y happiness of the pancetta just tasted too good with that yummy little fruit-bomb Buglioni. Done and done. Also, as I mentioned above, good ole Bugs turned out to be delicious with the rillettes as well (and thank you to some guinea pig customers for trying that out for me)!
Favorite: 2006 Buglioni Valpolicella
Course 3: Milk and dark chocolate biscuit with raspberries and marshmallow ice cream
Preliminary Pairings: NV Vin du Bugey-Cerdon Rose, M. Chapoutier Banyuls, Novaia Late-Harvest Valpolicella
Melissa is going to yell at me but I have to say this (especially for my Dad, who will love what I'm about to tell you): This dessert is a deconstructed shortcake. And it is awesome, and you'll agree with me Wednesday when it hits the dessert menu. Instead of all of the components layered on top of each other in true cake form, a dark-chocolate biscuit lies on a bed of milk chocolate ganache. Next to it, raspberry fool (fruit puree with chantilly folded in) studded with fresh Klug Farm raspberries, and next to that, homemade marshmallow ice cream on top of chocolate short-dough cookie crumbs. Yeeaw!
Ok, so I always reach for Vin du Bugey-Cerdon for a berry fruit and chocolate dessert. Why? Because it is sweet sparkling gamay from Burgundy and it is quite possibly one of the best things on the planet. I've heard people describe it as "jolly rancher in a glass", but I don't think it is as cloying as that. It does, however, seem to take on the particular characteristics of whatever berry you might be eating with it at the time. So this time, it tasted like raspberries and it was lovely with the chocolate, as well, because berries and chocolate go together like freakin' Lennon and McCartney.
Just to stick it to me, the staff was divided about the Banyuls and Novaia. Gia, Tracey, Kendal, and I like the Banyuls (slightly lighter than the Novaia), which paired deliciously with the berry aspects of the dish and stood up to the chocolate. Dave and Aaron argued that the Novaia was the better choice (admittedly, that stuff is like heaven with chocolate). Personally, I think the Novaia overpowered the berries . . .
But come in and taste for yourself! It'll all be waiting for you at the bar. Dave will be working Wednesday (not his normal shift, but lucky us) and can chat you up on our tasting discussions. Enjoy, and of course, e-kisses.
Monday, 6.22.09
Course 1: Crispy goat rillettes with chicory salad, brown butter vinaigrette, and grilled bread
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 75 Wine Co. Sauvignon Blanc, 2007 Prager Gruner Veltliner
I know that "crispy goat rillettes" sound good. But somehow that little phrase doesn't do justice to how ridiculously tasty they actually are. Let me explicate: Slagel Farm goat, braised, emulsified with duck fat, molded into patties and pan-fried. I'm going to say this again. Slagel Farm goat, braised, emulsified with . . .
Ok, you get the idea. But really, OMG. Sometimes people are a little afraid of goat meat (Mom, I know you're out there) due do its texture and tendency to be slightly gamey, but we're talking about tender, lovingly raised goats whose meat exudes excellent smokey flavors and takes on characteristics of other items on the plate; in this case, a grilled Nichols Farm radicchio and endive (both hearty and delicate) salad with roasted shallot and a sherry and brown butter vinaigrette, and a grilled baguette slice topped with another swoosh of awesomeness. This time Nicole dreamed up a snazzy little version of gribiche, adding diced sopressata and extra virgin olive oil to the usual yummy capers and hard cooked egg, giving the spread a less-mayonnaise-y constistency and making it a brilliant, zippy counterpart to the deep smokiness of the goat and chicories.
My preliminary musings on this course led me to consider only white wines for pairings, but after seeing the dish I wished I had grabbed at least one red to try with it. (I'm usually wary of pairing red right off the bat with a prix fix because I like to start with light-bodied wines and work up to the fuller ones--consistent with the light-to-heavy progression of meals--but sometimes only a red will do)! Luckily our 2nd course red favorite turned out to pair well across the board with this Farm Dinner (but more on that later). For now, the whites: Giavanna, Aaron, Tracey, Kendal, and Dave (my illustrious Monday night staff) and I were divided, point blank, on our favorite pairing with the goat rillettes. Well, not exactly our favorite, because we ended up liking both wines equally, but we disagreed on the reasons.
Liberal use of lemon juice throughout the rillettes dish added a nice citrus component, which I thoroughly enjoyed with the 75 Wine, a fantastic and reasonably priced sauvignon blanc from Napa with super clean grapefruit, grass, and mineral characteristics, lively acid, and a lingering finish. My staff, however, argued that it was the smoky notes of the chicories and goat that tasted so well with the 75. I liked those very same deep, smoky, earthy (and slightly bitter) flavors best with the Prager GV, quite possibly the best food wine we have on our list at Lula. Austrian wines are always nice go-to pairing wines due to their aromatic noses and clean, austere, high acid palates, and the Prager (from Kamptal) is no exception. Of course my staff just had to contradict me, contending that it was the citrus, not the smoke, that they liked best with the Prager. Well, I'm the boss so my word is bond. Just kidding.
Favorites: 75 SB, Prager GV
Course 2: Pancetta and goat cheese ravioli with green garlic agrodolce and Oregon porcini
Preliminary Pairings: 2006 Buglioni Valpolicella, 2007 Tenuto Garetto Barbera d' Asti
So I mentioned earlier that upon seeing the rillettes I wished I had grabbed a red to try, and the opposite held true with the ravioli! I hadn't chosen a white for my preliminary pairings, just on a whim, and the flavors of the dish are light enough that a white would've done just fine. Good thing we had all of our 1st course whites open and available and it was easy to take a swig of each of those, just to make double sure we were crossing all of our t's and dotting our i's. Indeed, both the 75 and the Prager were delicious with the ravioli, but I was more concerned about the red wines since the whites were such no-brainers.
But I'm getting a little ahead of myself. First of all, let me just say that this dish is slightly deceptive. Only 5 or 6 raviolis dot the plate, which sounds skimpy but turned out to be a perfect portion size, due to the heartiness of the house-made noodles and the richness of the goat cheese. Anyway, our Gunthorp Farm pancetta, green garlic from Spence Farm, and Capriole goat cheese (from Indiana!) make a delicious filling for the ravioli, and Jason's agrodolce (an Italian sweet and sour dressing) is always delicious. This time he used the same Spence green garlic, and topped the whole thing with the earthy West Coast porcinis and a little parmesan cheese. It's interesting, because after the pow! bam! zing! of the goat rillettes dish, the raviolis, simple and straightforward, seemed a perfect follow-up.
My original pairing idea was the Buglioni Valpolicella, which is like a confected fruit explosion with light body and a juicy mouthfeel, very straightforward and drinkable, but not super complex. But, like everything in my life, I started over-thinking and went in search of a more complicated option (this is starting to sound like my love life). Turns out the simplest choice was the right one! The Tenuto Garetto Barbera is a great wine, fruity at the start, but but turning mysterious and brooding at the end, with a little tannic bite on the finish to remind you its feisty. I wanted the TG Barbera to be the favorite here, with the earthy aspects matching up to the goat cheese and porcinis, but the sunshine tanginess of the agrodolce, the brightness of the green garlic, and the bacon-y happiness of the pancetta just tasted too good with that yummy little fruit-bomb Buglioni. Done and done. Also, as I mentioned above, good ole Bugs turned out to be delicious with the rillettes as well (and thank you to some guinea pig customers for trying that out for me)!
Favorite: 2006 Buglioni Valpolicella
Course 3: Milk and dark chocolate biscuit with raspberries and marshmallow ice cream
Preliminary Pairings: NV Vin du Bugey-Cerdon Rose, M. Chapoutier Banyuls, Novaia Late-Harvest Valpolicella
Melissa is going to yell at me but I have to say this (especially for my Dad, who will love what I'm about to tell you): This dessert is a deconstructed shortcake. And it is awesome, and you'll agree with me Wednesday when it hits the dessert menu. Instead of all of the components layered on top of each other in true cake form, a dark-chocolate biscuit lies on a bed of milk chocolate ganache. Next to it, raspberry fool (fruit puree with chantilly folded in) studded with fresh Klug Farm raspberries, and next to that, homemade marshmallow ice cream on top of chocolate short-dough cookie crumbs. Yeeaw!
Ok, so I always reach for Vin du Bugey-Cerdon for a berry fruit and chocolate dessert. Why? Because it is sweet sparkling gamay from Burgundy and it is quite possibly one of the best things on the planet. I've heard people describe it as "jolly rancher in a glass", but I don't think it is as cloying as that. It does, however, seem to take on the particular characteristics of whatever berry you might be eating with it at the time. So this time, it tasted like raspberries and it was lovely with the chocolate, as well, because berries and chocolate go together like freakin' Lennon and McCartney.
Just to stick it to me, the staff was divided about the Banyuls and Novaia. Gia, Tracey, Kendal, and I like the Banyuls (slightly lighter than the Novaia), which paired deliciously with the berry aspects of the dish and stood up to the chocolate. Dave and Aaron argued that the Novaia was the better choice (admittedly, that stuff is like heaven with chocolate). Personally, I think the Novaia overpowered the berries . . .
But come in and taste for yourself! It'll all be waiting for you at the bar. Dave will be working Wednesday (not his normal shift, but lucky us) and can chat you up on our tasting discussions. Enjoy, and of course, e-kisses.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Late-Spring Bounty = Vegetarian Deliciousness!!
Welcome to the 2nd Lula Wine Post! Just a bit of background about last night's Farm Dinner before we get to the good stuff:
Every couple months Jason and the sous chefs (sounds like a mo-town act) do an all-vegetarian Farm Dinner, which keeps our herbivorous friends happy and updates the Dinner Specials menu with a vegetarian option that is more reflective of the local farmers' current offerings. After all, what better way to showcase produce than to put it in some super-yummy all-veg dishes?
Monday, 6.15.09
Course 1: West coast mushroom consomme with stinging nettle and ricotta toast
Preliminary Pairing: 2006 Domaine de la Folie Rully Blanc Clos la Folie
To me, "consomme" means "clean tasting." (It actually means "clarified broth," but since when have I operated in the real world?) Also, to me, "consomme" says "French." So when deciding a wine to pair with a consomme, I reach for a clean tasting French wine. Ahem, Bourgogne, anyone? Nothing says "French" and "clean flavors" to me like a good ole white Burgandy. Plus, since the consomme in question here is vegetarian, a Bourgogne Blanc fits the bill in terms of body and flavor profile as well. The Clos la Folie is delicate and fruity with a hint of minerality. Chardonnay can sometimes be too big for its britches but the Rully Blanc is quite dainty, with restrained green apple flavors and a nice, food-friendly medium body.
I wasn't looking for super-high acid when pairing the mushroom consomme because it isn't fatty. I did need to consider the stinging nettle and ricotta toast, which is basically a grilled and garlic-ed slice of Red Hen Bakery French Baguette spread with a liberal swoosh of a scrumptious stinging nettle greens (from Spence Farm) and house-made ricotta mixture, topped with pickled radish, West Coast porcinis and morels, and these lovely little rapini flowers (which, incidentally, made the whole dish look like an impressionist painting when dunked and swirled into the broth. Beautiful).
Clos la Folie has a gorgeous, supple mouthfeel, achieved from the malolactic fermentation technique, which is the process of introducing lactic acid during fermentation and which results in a round, unctuous mouthfeel. This replaced the effects of natural grape acid and stood up to the ricotta cheese spread and the oil on the toast. The Rully Blanc did itself proud, with the green apple flavors providing a nice compliment to the freshness and tartness of the green (tarragon, parsley, nettle, rapini flowers) and pickled (radish) aspects of the dish.
Favorite (duh): Rully Blanc
Course 2: Spring pea and dill sformato with heirloom carrot and focaccia, carrot vinaigrette, summer blossoms, and fregola
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Jean-Luc Colombo Cotes du Rhone Blanc La Redonne, 2008 Couly-Dutheil Chinon Rose, 2006 Bodegas Protos Roble Joven
"What is sformato?" you ask. "Fregola?" you say. Molded custard and pearl shaped Sardinian semolina pasta (similar to Israeli cous cous) respectively, dear readers. Specifically, the sformato from last evening is made from a puree of the most delightfully pale green Klug Farm english peas, eggs, and cream, and set into a mold. It nests on a salad of house-made focaccia, Wisconsin pea tendrils, and sous-vide poached Werp Farm carrots, dressed with the carrot poaching liquid and Cava vinaigrette. Crowning the sformato is a squash blossom stuffed with the fregola. Hints of dill, lemon, and shallot, interspersed throughout, compliment the flavors of the dish.
Again (and as usual), I wanted to present several wine options for the entree: a white, a rose, and a red (readers, get used to this). I'm brimming with reasons and thought processes here, but I'll try not to be too verbose:
Colombo La Redonne, in a word, ROCKS. It is a fantastic food wine with lively acid, an aromatic nose of peaches and honeysuckle, and exotic flavors of almost tropical fruit balanced by (the ever-popular) slight minerality. With viognier adding aroma and roussanne lending structure, this wine always pleases with a little something for everyone. While delicious with the bread salad and squash blossom, La Redonne left something to be desired with the sformato (to be honest, we all felt it was a little boring. Tasty, but no "wow factor").
Couly-Dutheil Chinon Rose, however, kicked major tush. New to our wine list, C-D Rose is experiencing its 15 minutes of fame at Lula as the new staff favorite. (We do get wine "crushes" and this little number is the hottest thing since our love affair with a certain 2007 Beaujolais Nouveau). Made from 100% cabernet franc, berry fruit is the name of the game, but delightfully the Chinon Rose also packs elements of black pepper (typical of Chinon Rouges) and spice. Something magical happened when we tasted this wine with the sformato dish. I think the body of the wine, coupled with the fruitiness and those mysterious secondary characteristics, created an unexpected twist and a truly unique flavor combination (you'll just have to experience it to believe).
Finally, the Bodegas Protos: a roble joven (young red from Ribera del Duero, Spain), the wine has fruit, structure, and spice, a medium body, and is food-friendly, just how we like 'em. I think the juicy-fruitiness of the Protos is what made the pairing so delicious, because it truly was. Also, Italian-inspired dishes often pair nicely with Spanish wines, which mimic the fruit and spice of Italians but possess slightly less gusto and therefore are easier to drink with lighter fare.
Favorites: Chinon Rose, Protos
Course 3: Pecan tart with bourbon-brown sugar ice cream and black currants
Preliminary Pairing: Alvear Solera Cream Sherry
Bourbon. Pecan. Currant. Caramel. Molasses. Um, are you kidding me? Get this: the tarts are basically individual sized pecan pies with a custard of molasses and brown sugar and topped with bourbon-soaked pecans, all encrusted in short-dough for extra richness. The bourbon-brown sugar ice cream is studded with bourbon soaked black currants, and finishing the plate is a treasure-trail of bourbon-caramel sauce with more bourbon soaked pecans and currants floating in it. I'm actually getting a little teary-eyed with joy reminiscing about this dessert.
Now, Solera Cream Sherry is good. So good, and the Alvear has nutty, caramel-y, flavors that also reflect a raisined quality. Hello! Nutty flavors of sherry = pecan pie. Caramel flavors of sherry = bourbon-caramel and brown sugar. Raisin flavors of sherry = bourbon soaked black currants. I will say no more.
Favorite: Alvear Solera Cream Sherry
Get in while the gettin' is good! All of the above wines will be open on Wednesday and Thursday evenings this week, and the sformato will be appearing on the Dinner Specials menu, and I hope the pecan tart sticks around, because, well, duh.
E-kisses!
Every couple months Jason and the sous chefs (sounds like a mo-town act) do an all-vegetarian Farm Dinner, which keeps our herbivorous friends happy and updates the Dinner Specials menu with a vegetarian option that is more reflective of the local farmers' current offerings. After all, what better way to showcase produce than to put it in some super-yummy all-veg dishes?
Monday, 6.15.09
Course 1: West coast mushroom consomme with stinging nettle and ricotta toast
Preliminary Pairing: 2006 Domaine de la Folie Rully Blanc Clos la Folie
To me, "consomme" means "clean tasting." (It actually means "clarified broth," but since when have I operated in the real world?) Also, to me, "consomme" says "French." So when deciding a wine to pair with a consomme, I reach for a clean tasting French wine. Ahem, Bourgogne, anyone? Nothing says "French" and "clean flavors" to me like a good ole white Burgandy. Plus, since the consomme in question here is vegetarian, a Bourgogne Blanc fits the bill in terms of body and flavor profile as well. The Clos la Folie is delicate and fruity with a hint of minerality. Chardonnay can sometimes be too big for its britches but the Rully Blanc is quite dainty, with restrained green apple flavors and a nice, food-friendly medium body.
I wasn't looking for super-high acid when pairing the mushroom consomme because it isn't fatty. I did need to consider the stinging nettle and ricotta toast, which is basically a grilled and garlic-ed slice of Red Hen Bakery French Baguette spread with a liberal swoosh of a scrumptious stinging nettle greens (from Spence Farm) and house-made ricotta mixture, topped with pickled radish, West Coast porcinis and morels, and these lovely little rapini flowers (which, incidentally, made the whole dish look like an impressionist painting when dunked and swirled into the broth. Beautiful).
Clos la Folie has a gorgeous, supple mouthfeel, achieved from the malolactic fermentation technique, which is the process of introducing lactic acid during fermentation and which results in a round, unctuous mouthfeel. This replaced the effects of natural grape acid and stood up to the ricotta cheese spread and the oil on the toast. The Rully Blanc did itself proud, with the green apple flavors providing a nice compliment to the freshness and tartness of the green (tarragon, parsley, nettle, rapini flowers) and pickled (radish) aspects of the dish.
Favorite (duh): Rully Blanc
Course 2: Spring pea and dill sformato with heirloom carrot and focaccia, carrot vinaigrette, summer blossoms, and fregola
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Jean-Luc Colombo Cotes du Rhone Blanc La Redonne, 2008 Couly-Dutheil Chinon Rose, 2006 Bodegas Protos Roble Joven
"What is sformato?" you ask. "Fregola?" you say. Molded custard and pearl shaped Sardinian semolina pasta (similar to Israeli cous cous) respectively, dear readers. Specifically, the sformato from last evening is made from a puree of the most delightfully pale green Klug Farm english peas, eggs, and cream, and set into a mold. It nests on a salad of house-made focaccia, Wisconsin pea tendrils, and sous-vide poached Werp Farm carrots, dressed with the carrot poaching liquid and Cava vinaigrette. Crowning the sformato is a squash blossom stuffed with the fregola. Hints of dill, lemon, and shallot, interspersed throughout, compliment the flavors of the dish.
Again (and as usual), I wanted to present several wine options for the entree: a white, a rose, and a red (readers, get used to this). I'm brimming with reasons and thought processes here, but I'll try not to be too verbose:
Colombo La Redonne, in a word, ROCKS. It is a fantastic food wine with lively acid, an aromatic nose of peaches and honeysuckle, and exotic flavors of almost tropical fruit balanced by (the ever-popular) slight minerality. With viognier adding aroma and roussanne lending structure, this wine always pleases with a little something for everyone. While delicious with the bread salad and squash blossom, La Redonne left something to be desired with the sformato (to be honest, we all felt it was a little boring. Tasty, but no "wow factor").
Couly-Dutheil Chinon Rose, however, kicked major tush. New to our wine list, C-D Rose is experiencing its 15 minutes of fame at Lula as the new staff favorite. (We do get wine "crushes" and this little number is the hottest thing since our love affair with a certain 2007 Beaujolais Nouveau). Made from 100% cabernet franc, berry fruit is the name of the game, but delightfully the Chinon Rose also packs elements of black pepper (typical of Chinon Rouges) and spice. Something magical happened when we tasted this wine with the sformato dish. I think the body of the wine, coupled with the fruitiness and those mysterious secondary characteristics, created an unexpected twist and a truly unique flavor combination (you'll just have to experience it to believe).
Finally, the Bodegas Protos: a roble joven (young red from Ribera del Duero, Spain), the wine has fruit, structure, and spice, a medium body, and is food-friendly, just how we like 'em. I think the juicy-fruitiness of the Protos is what made the pairing so delicious, because it truly was. Also, Italian-inspired dishes often pair nicely with Spanish wines, which mimic the fruit and spice of Italians but possess slightly less gusto and therefore are easier to drink with lighter fare.
Favorites: Chinon Rose, Protos
Course 3: Pecan tart with bourbon-brown sugar ice cream and black currants
Preliminary Pairing: Alvear Solera Cream Sherry
Bourbon. Pecan. Currant. Caramel. Molasses. Um, are you kidding me? Get this: the tarts are basically individual sized pecan pies with a custard of molasses and brown sugar and topped with bourbon-soaked pecans, all encrusted in short-dough for extra richness. The bourbon-brown sugar ice cream is studded with bourbon soaked black currants, and finishing the plate is a treasure-trail of bourbon-caramel sauce with more bourbon soaked pecans and currants floating in it. I'm actually getting a little teary-eyed with joy reminiscing about this dessert.
Now, Solera Cream Sherry is good. So good, and the Alvear has nutty, caramel-y, flavors that also reflect a raisined quality. Hello! Nutty flavors of sherry = pecan pie. Caramel flavors of sherry = bourbon-caramel and brown sugar. Raisin flavors of sherry = bourbon soaked black currants. I will say no more.
Favorite: Alvear Solera Cream Sherry
Get in while the gettin' is good! All of the above wines will be open on Wednesday and Thursday evenings this week, and the sformato will be appearing on the Dinner Specials menu, and I hope the pecan tart sticks around, because, well, duh.
E-kisses!
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