I spear my first piece of rabbit sausage with my blood-stained dagger that I've just removed from the garter around my bulging, sweaty calf, and curse the Visigoths while wearing my horned battle helmet and brandishing a flagon of mead. Or, I'm a barmaid servicing hundreds of heroic Knights Templar just returned from delivering justice to another defector, thirsty and starving for food and attention from a fair lady. . . . (I never said I was a history buff, but I've seen Monty Python, ok?).
Huh? Well, let's just say that Monday's Farm Dinner was transporting in flavor and time, hearkening back to a bygone era of small mammalian foodstuffs and fowl as a centerpiece for the meal.
Monday 10.05.o9
Course 1: Rabbit mortadella with dried fruit mostarda, cultured butter, and traditional garnishes
Preliminary Pairings: NV Bele Casel Prosecco, 2008 Rudolph Muller Riesling Pfalz Shine, Great Lakes Dortmunder Gold Organic Lager
As we all know, mortadella is simply the fancy term for bologna, and traditional mortadella is always studded with some kind of nuts, usually pistachios. In this case, Gunthorp Farm rabbit loin and cinnamon accents comprised most of the mortadella, and Sous Chef Mike made cultured butter with a beautiful apricot tinted salt as an accompaniment (remember, cultured butter is the same fancy French stuff that rich people and foodies keep in their fridges to spread on their toast points). Plums, cherries, and raisins, a little dash of Patrick's magical mustard oil (which acts like wasabi on the sinuses), and Unibroue's Maudite Ale made up the yummy fruit mostarda, which Mike and Jason chose to present membrillo-style (fruit paste) instead of the usual spreadable jam-style. Finally, a lovely light salad of fines herbs and cornichons added the necessary acid and crunch to the plate and warm slices of hearty Fox and Obel pumpernickel and rye bread lent depth of flavor and herbal notes.
It's been awhile since we tasted bubbly with Farm Dinner and I always like doing a touch of sparkling with charcuterie--all that lively acid cuts through the fat so nicely, and usually complements the tartness, sweetness, and lightness of most accompaniments. Since mortadella is Italian in origin I thought demure little Bele Casel would be lovely and I was quite correct. Just the right amount of juicy fruit and crisp bubbles to match the fat and tang of the meat and cornichons, with a slight sweetness to pair up to the mostarda. Rudolph Muller Shine was a truly interesting pairing. A riesling from Pfalz, Shine tasted very fruity and off-dry when drank solo but with food showed much more pronounced minerality and complex flavors. Hmm. Muller was a bit of a wild card, but I was very curious and in the end found it engaging with Course 1. Finally, at Mike's suggestion we tasted Dortmunder Gold Lager and enjoyed it immensely--really, Dortmunder served Course 1 in the same manner as Bele Casel, with a crisp mouthfeel and bitter hops cutting through the mortadella and complementing the garnishes.
Favorites: All!
Course 2: Pan roasted duck breast with Jerusalem artichoke, Jayden winter squash, dates, and duck liver-leek roulade
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Corvidae Wine Company Cabernet Franc The Keeper, 2006 Chateau Saint Andre Corbin St Georges-St Emilion
For me, the standout of this dish was the duck liver-leek roulade, simply for the creativity behind it. With an inkling to create a bone-marrow-esque piece as the visual focus of the dish, Jason made a deliciously decadent mousseline with the Gunthorp duck livers and calvados, cream, and onions. Braised leeks were rolled around a dollop of the pate, and the whole thing was crisped and placed upright at the center of a bowl and finished with date honey to truly imitate a bone bursting with rich, glistening marrow (can you see why my imagination zoomed where it did?). Anyway, the rest of the dish was no slouch, with the beautiful duck breast seared and sliced over caramelized Green Acres sunchokes and Jayden squash, and dates lightly spiced with red pepper. All of the vegetables were braised in calvados and licorice root and the liquid was used for a consomme, poured tableside, over the whole dish.
The Keeper was, as they say, a keeper. Heh, heh. Truly, a wonderful match. The Keeper is smoky, earthy, and velvety, with silky, integrated tannin and lush, dark fruit. Really, not much else to say, other than this pairing should not be missed. The Bordeaux, while absolutely fantastic, with a hint of violet and mint, crisp tannin and leathery earth, had a bit too much bite with the duck and lacked The Keeper's slight jamminess. All in all, slightly too dry and light-bodied. Ah well, it'll have its day.
Favorite: The Keeper
Course 3: Pumpkin oatmeal beignets with toasted oat ice cream
Preliminary Pairing: NV Chambers Muscat
Fried to order! Yes! Lovely Three Sisters Organic's oats served as a binding agent in the cake-style donuts and in the ice cream, and local pumpkins were cooked and pureed with cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and cracked pepper and provided the filling for the beignets. A lliberal application of pumpkin-butterscotch sauce garnished the plate. Chambers, a caramelly, slightly orange-spicy muscat from Australia looooooved this dish, from the butterscotch sauce to the pumpkin filling. Just the right amount of dark, brooding raisinated flavors complemented the oaty aspects of the beignets dish.
Favorite: Chambers
Until next week, my brethren!
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Luxe Fall Layers
Maybe I'm obsessed with shopping, but to me, Farm Dinner was the gastronomic equivalent of this year's must-have early fall fashion staples: 3.1 Phillip Lim's gauzy, lightweight slub-style boyfriend t-shirt layered under a luscious, rich, chunky-knit Chloe sweater coat with Brian Atwood's gorgeous cognac-leather platform ankle booties. Sounds delicious, doesn't it?
Monday 09.28.09
Course 1: September market salad with chicories, apple, turnip, marcona almonds, fiore sardo, and goat milk yogurt dressing
Preliminary Pairings: 2008 Domaine du Salvard Cheverny Blanc, 2007 Couly-Dutheil Chinon Blanc Les Chanteaux, 2006 Monticello Vineyards Pinot Noir
So this salad was rare for Lula because of its (non) composition: a plate of greens, dressed, with fruit, nuts, and other ingredients interspersed. Generally, Lula's chefs like architectural or deconstructed salads (2007's potted confit beets, anyone?) but new Sous Mike continues to push the envelope and keep us on our toes by challenging our ideas of what we do.
The salad was light-as-air in texture and color with crunchy escarole, curly endive, and arugula, and raw shaved Nichols Farm apples and Werp's turnips; deceptively hearty, filling, and earthy, however, as the Swan Creek goat's milk lend heady, tangy grassy notes to the house-made creamy yogurt dressing. Marcona almonds, deliciously spiced with autumn-in-a-mouthfull cinnamon and ginger lent tooth and bite, while golden raisins (pickled in another fall-spice favorite combo of cinnamon, star anise, and green coriander) added acid and sweetness. Finally, in an inspired move, Fiore Sardo (Sardinian goat's cheese) was delicately shaved throughout. This brilliant addition of the smoky, rustic aspects of Fiore Sardo truly achieved balance and depth in the dish.
Unexpected happenings, wine-wise. I was fairly certain that C-D Chinon, known for its honeysuckle, stone fruit flavors and balanced slatey minerality (from the Loire, after all) would echo and complement the raisins and vinaigrette (which, in addition to the yogurt, was comprised of a fair amount of local honey for body) while balancing and tempering the earthiness of the goat flavors. Also, chenin blancs are nice with smoked cheeses due to the slight petrol notes on both nose and palate. Well, I was right, although the actual taste of C-D with the salad wasn't as mellow as I had predicted--both wine and food flavors changed a bit when tasted together, but in an altogether pleasurable way. It seemed that C-D enhanced the grassiness in the salad, which was nice, while fruit flavors in the wine seemed to slightly eclipse the minerality.
Domaine du Salvard was a wild card for me that did not pay off. I wanted to counterbalance the very flavorful, large-scale smells and flavors of the Chinon Blanc with a slightly cleaner, more austere option. I had originally pulled a pinot blanc but decided against it in the end, fearing that I hadn't gone too far opposite C-D. Salvard is still from the Loire so I figured simply a regional similarity would keep us from straying too far off the mark. A sauvignon blanc / chardonnay blend, Salvard is all citrus fruit and brine with the typical Loire wet stone. Very fruity and round in the nose, Salvard tends to be bright and tart on the palate--too much so for the earthiness of the salad. We actually tried Salvard first, and while quite nicely balanced at the start of a bite, the Salvard finished bitter and we vetoed it on the spot.
Finally, the dark horse of the three preliminaries of Course 1: Monticello PN. We loooooooved it. First of all, Monticello is new to Lula's list and already offered as a glass pour alternative to O'Reilly's Pinot Noir (which is younger, and more inexpensive). The staff and I are super-excited to sell Monticello, which is from Napa but feels refined like a Burgundy, with subtle dark fruit, savory herbs, and integrated tannin, while maintaining a juicy, food-friendly mouthfeel and balanced acid. I think the gorgeous velvety fruit-herb flavors truly balanced the goat yogurt's barnyard funkiness while matching the Fiore Sardo and complementing the spices in the almonds and raisins. YUM.
Favorites: C-D Chinon, Monticello
Course 2: Pan roasted Lake Superior trout with sweet potato pommes anna, caramelized broccoli, chorizo, and px sherry vinaigrette
Preliminary Pairings: 2004 Bodegas y Vinedos Conde de San Cristobal Tempranillo / Cabernet Sauvignon / Merlot
First we pulled on our gauzy t-shirt and now we need to dress for the weather with our toasty sweater coat. Folks, say hello to pan roasted lake trout with apples. A study in reds, Course 2 was beautifully presented and the flavors matched the artistry of the dish bite-for-bite. This trout had a pretty pinkish hue and a meaty texture (so much that some might have mistaken in for salmon) but a delicate, mild flavor that no salmon could ever hope to achieve. Basted in butter, chorizo, and garlic clove, the trout had the requisite crispy skin and sat atop local caramelized broccoli. On the side, the piece de resistance of pommes anna: sweet and wax potatoes layered lovingly with celery root and pear butter (red wine poached pears served as the base) took the place of a cheese in a gratin. Finally, a small but substantial-in-flavor salad of beauty heart radishes, purslane, caperberries, and dry cured chorizo, dressed in px sherry-pear vinaigrette, added acid, sweetness, crisp bursts of flavor and visual interest. I should say here that Course 2 really was a sight to behold, with colors and textures truly delighting the eye. Even in the salad, the patterns in the shaved radishes mimicked the striations and marbling in the chorizo. Cool.
It was the chorizo, in fact, that inspired my wine selection for the trout--Spanish cured meat as a theme throughout the dish? OK, let's try a Spanish wine. The San Cristobal is another Lula newbie and one of the best wines I feel I've tasted this year: Again, a little older vintage means mellow fruit and subtle, velvety tannin, and delicious tempranillo lends its spice and slightly darker fruit with mineral and herbal earth. Sweater coat, indeed. Let's wrap ourselves up in this one and sit by the fire drinking it, right? Anyway, San Cristobal's fruit did wonders with the pommes anna, the perfect-food-wine medium body (the Spanish are truly adept at producing food-friendly juice) balanced the fish, and the spice and mineral complemented the chorizo wonderfully. Deelish.
Favorite: San Cristobal
Course 3: Klug Farm poached pear with autumn ice creams
Preliminary Pairings: Warre's 10yr Tawny Porto, Alvear Solera Cream Sherry
Autumn ice creams: sweet potato lightly spiced with black pepper, ginger, and cinnamon, brown-sugar brandy ice cream studded with brown sugar-macerated raisins, and pear sorbet. Atop all of these, a brandy, cinnamon, ginger, root, and black peppercorn poached pear, with sweet potato and raisin compote and a brandy gastrique (more sweet than sour with just the slightest hint of vinegar for balance) around the plate. As if the dish needed more amazingly complementary flavors and textures, a brandy soaked semolina cake added a mouthy component. Writing about this dessert cannot in any way do it justice, but just imagine the luxurious, fabulous, sexy shoe-fetishistic pleasure of those color-so-deep-you-could-swim-in-it Brain Atwood cognac-leather booties and you can begin to get the idea. (Plus, cognac=brandy which is what Melissa used in the dessert . . . am I pushing the metaphor?)
But no cognac for pairing. Dave and Tracey tried Calvados but my suspicions were confirmed when they both agreed it was overpowering. I really wanted the Warre's to work this time, but no dice: too strong, again. Alvear proved itself again to be the most versatile dessert wine we seem to have on the list at Lula, which its lovely nutty, slightly caramely bright raisin flavors providing a perfectly balanced sweetness with the ice creams and semolina cake.
Favorite: Alvear (I swear, next week we won't even try it)
I'm fairly certain all these dishes will make an appearance in the next week. You must try Monticello, and please do yourselves a favor and if you miss San Cristobal by the glass, come in and order a bottle--really, it is the perfect autumn wine.
Monday 09.28.09
Course 1: September market salad with chicories, apple, turnip, marcona almonds, fiore sardo, and goat milk yogurt dressing
Preliminary Pairings: 2008 Domaine du Salvard Cheverny Blanc, 2007 Couly-Dutheil Chinon Blanc Les Chanteaux, 2006 Monticello Vineyards Pinot Noir
So this salad was rare for Lula because of its (non) composition: a plate of greens, dressed, with fruit, nuts, and other ingredients interspersed. Generally, Lula's chefs like architectural or deconstructed salads (2007's potted confit beets, anyone?) but new Sous Mike continues to push the envelope and keep us on our toes by challenging our ideas of what we do.
The salad was light-as-air in texture and color with crunchy escarole, curly endive, and arugula, and raw shaved Nichols Farm apples and Werp's turnips; deceptively hearty, filling, and earthy, however, as the Swan Creek goat's milk lend heady, tangy grassy notes to the house-made creamy yogurt dressing. Marcona almonds, deliciously spiced with autumn-in-a-mouthfull cinnamon and ginger lent tooth and bite, while golden raisins (pickled in another fall-spice favorite combo of cinnamon, star anise, and green coriander) added acid and sweetness. Finally, in an inspired move, Fiore Sardo (Sardinian goat's cheese) was delicately shaved throughout. This brilliant addition of the smoky, rustic aspects of Fiore Sardo truly achieved balance and depth in the dish.
Unexpected happenings, wine-wise. I was fairly certain that C-D Chinon, known for its honeysuckle, stone fruit flavors and balanced slatey minerality (from the Loire, after all) would echo and complement the raisins and vinaigrette (which, in addition to the yogurt, was comprised of a fair amount of local honey for body) while balancing and tempering the earthiness of the goat flavors. Also, chenin blancs are nice with smoked cheeses due to the slight petrol notes on both nose and palate. Well, I was right, although the actual taste of C-D with the salad wasn't as mellow as I had predicted--both wine and food flavors changed a bit when tasted together, but in an altogether pleasurable way. It seemed that C-D enhanced the grassiness in the salad, which was nice, while fruit flavors in the wine seemed to slightly eclipse the minerality.
Domaine du Salvard was a wild card for me that did not pay off. I wanted to counterbalance the very flavorful, large-scale smells and flavors of the Chinon Blanc with a slightly cleaner, more austere option. I had originally pulled a pinot blanc but decided against it in the end, fearing that I hadn't gone too far opposite C-D. Salvard is still from the Loire so I figured simply a regional similarity would keep us from straying too far off the mark. A sauvignon blanc / chardonnay blend, Salvard is all citrus fruit and brine with the typical Loire wet stone. Very fruity and round in the nose, Salvard tends to be bright and tart on the palate--too much so for the earthiness of the salad. We actually tried Salvard first, and while quite nicely balanced at the start of a bite, the Salvard finished bitter and we vetoed it on the spot.
Finally, the dark horse of the three preliminaries of Course 1: Monticello PN. We loooooooved it. First of all, Monticello is new to Lula's list and already offered as a glass pour alternative to O'Reilly's Pinot Noir (which is younger, and more inexpensive). The staff and I are super-excited to sell Monticello, which is from Napa but feels refined like a Burgundy, with subtle dark fruit, savory herbs, and integrated tannin, while maintaining a juicy, food-friendly mouthfeel and balanced acid. I think the gorgeous velvety fruit-herb flavors truly balanced the goat yogurt's barnyard funkiness while matching the Fiore Sardo and complementing the spices in the almonds and raisins. YUM.
Favorites: C-D Chinon, Monticello
Course 2: Pan roasted Lake Superior trout with sweet potato pommes anna, caramelized broccoli, chorizo, and px sherry vinaigrette
Preliminary Pairings: 2004 Bodegas y Vinedos Conde de San Cristobal Tempranillo / Cabernet Sauvignon / Merlot
First we pulled on our gauzy t-shirt and now we need to dress for the weather with our toasty sweater coat. Folks, say hello to pan roasted lake trout with apples. A study in reds, Course 2 was beautifully presented and the flavors matched the artistry of the dish bite-for-bite. This trout had a pretty pinkish hue and a meaty texture (so much that some might have mistaken in for salmon) but a delicate, mild flavor that no salmon could ever hope to achieve. Basted in butter, chorizo, and garlic clove, the trout had the requisite crispy skin and sat atop local caramelized broccoli. On the side, the piece de resistance of pommes anna: sweet and wax potatoes layered lovingly with celery root and pear butter (red wine poached pears served as the base) took the place of a cheese in a gratin. Finally, a small but substantial-in-flavor salad of beauty heart radishes, purslane, caperberries, and dry cured chorizo, dressed in px sherry-pear vinaigrette, added acid, sweetness, crisp bursts of flavor and visual interest. I should say here that Course 2 really was a sight to behold, with colors and textures truly delighting the eye. Even in the salad, the patterns in the shaved radishes mimicked the striations and marbling in the chorizo. Cool.
It was the chorizo, in fact, that inspired my wine selection for the trout--Spanish cured meat as a theme throughout the dish? OK, let's try a Spanish wine. The San Cristobal is another Lula newbie and one of the best wines I feel I've tasted this year: Again, a little older vintage means mellow fruit and subtle, velvety tannin, and delicious tempranillo lends its spice and slightly darker fruit with mineral and herbal earth. Sweater coat, indeed. Let's wrap ourselves up in this one and sit by the fire drinking it, right? Anyway, San Cristobal's fruit did wonders with the pommes anna, the perfect-food-wine medium body (the Spanish are truly adept at producing food-friendly juice) balanced the fish, and the spice and mineral complemented the chorizo wonderfully. Deelish.
Favorite: San Cristobal
Course 3: Klug Farm poached pear with autumn ice creams
Preliminary Pairings: Warre's 10yr Tawny Porto, Alvear Solera Cream Sherry
Autumn ice creams: sweet potato lightly spiced with black pepper, ginger, and cinnamon, brown-sugar brandy ice cream studded with brown sugar-macerated raisins, and pear sorbet. Atop all of these, a brandy, cinnamon, ginger, root, and black peppercorn poached pear, with sweet potato and raisin compote and a brandy gastrique (more sweet than sour with just the slightest hint of vinegar for balance) around the plate. As if the dish needed more amazingly complementary flavors and textures, a brandy soaked semolina cake added a mouthy component. Writing about this dessert cannot in any way do it justice, but just imagine the luxurious, fabulous, sexy shoe-fetishistic pleasure of those color-so-deep-you-could-swim-in-it Brain Atwood cognac-leather booties and you can begin to get the idea. (Plus, cognac=brandy which is what Melissa used in the dessert . . . am I pushing the metaphor?)
But no cognac for pairing. Dave and Tracey tried Calvados but my suspicions were confirmed when they both agreed it was overpowering. I really wanted the Warre's to work this time, but no dice: too strong, again. Alvear proved itself again to be the most versatile dessert wine we seem to have on the list at Lula, which its lovely nutty, slightly caramely bright raisin flavors providing a perfectly balanced sweetness with the ice creams and semolina cake.
Favorite: Alvear (I swear, next week we won't even try it)
I'm fairly certain all these dishes will make an appearance in the next week. You must try Monticello, and please do yourselves a favor and if you miss San Cristobal by the glass, come in and order a bottle--really, it is the perfect autumn wine.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
The Girl Who Cried Houndstooth Finally Puts on Her Coat
Ok, so I know I've been going on and on about autumn coming early to Logan Square and me being ready to bust out my cozy scarves and sweaters and stuff, and then it was totally hot and summery for like a month . . . Well, autumn came to Logan Square yesterday, officially (according to the calendar) and unofficially, as Farm Dinner ushered in fall with a culinary tour-de-force of the changing seasons' bounty. It is really quite challenging to do summer-into-fall with class, trust me. How does one gracefully segue (sartorially in any case) from a 50-degree, golden honey-crisp morning into a blazing 80-degree afternoon and then back again to a chilly sunset? By knowing your own closet, ladies. It's all about the right layering. Well, last night the Lula sous brought-it with intimate understanding of a just-right juxtoposition of early autumn's offerings with late summer accents.
Monday 09.21.09
Course 1: Grilled Spanish mackerel with porcini mushrooms, raw autumn vegetables, and white miso
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Prager Gruner Veltliner, 2007 Jean-Luc Colombo Cotes du Rhone La Redonne Blanc, 2007 Sattler Family Zweigelt
Mackerel is an oily fish, grilled to perfection here and tempered, texturally, with bright, raw vegetables. Porcini mushrooms were pureed with white miso to add earth and a little bit of that elusive umami to serve as a bridge between the fishy mackerel and the clean flavors of local butternut squash, chioggia beets, celery root, and shaved pear. Mustard oil (an amazing product--not mustard infused olive oil, but the actual oil of mustard seeds) added subtle heat.
I needed wines that wouldn't overpower the delicacy of raw vegetables but could stand up to the rather pungent mackerel and support the earthiness of the porcinis. Luckily, Prager GV has all the right components: a pristine, mineral driven palate with hints of austere citrus fruit and the necessary acid backed by crisp bursts of near-effervescence. Perfectly tart with the uncooked vegetables and possessing just the right amount of unctuousness in the mouth, Prager GV was a dream come true with the mackerel dish. Jean-Luc Colombo, whose Cotes-du-Rhone Blanc is a Lula staff fave, has just a tad too much honeyed-fruit not to clash with the mackerel, although it was lovely with the squash and beets and truly allowed the spicy mustard oil to shine. Finally, Sattler Zweigelt (another pairing stand-by) showed off its versatility yet again by mellowing out next to the mackerel and mustard (while still providing delicate, yet prevalent flavor) and matching up brilliantly to the juicy, refreshing vegetable salad.
Favorite: 2007 Prager GV
Course 2: Slow roasted Gunthorp Farm pork shoulder with brussels sprouts and shell beans, hazelnut butter, pancetta, and ground cherry 'choucroute'
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Sattler Family Zweigelt, 2004 Patrick Lesec Selections Chateauneuf du Pape Pierres Dorees
When sous-chef Mike told me that a prevalent flavor idea behind the pork shoulder was
"forest floor" I immediately thought of Chateauneuf du Pape, especially considering the herbs-du-provence triumph of this summer's 3-D bacon moment. Like Costello Tagliapietra's elegently draped silks and velvets of Fall 2009 in the most gorgeous hues of muted slates, aubergines, and mustards as a direct response to their flashes of brightly colored taffetas for the season before, the forest floor characteristics of garrigue (that ever-controversial description for the terroir of the Southern Rhone and Provence) are autumn's darker, headier answer to the golden, late-summer-afternoon-sun-soaked qualities of its herbs-du-provence counterpart (remember: lavender, thyme, rosemary, etc).
First, a bit about the dish: Gunthorp Farm pork shoulders were cured in caraway, garlic, and thyme, and roasted and rolled around a farce (which is basically a stuffing) of braised red cabbage, dried cherries, and hazelnuts (it's like you can feel the leaves falling and that autumn afternoon chill already, eh?). Brussels sprouts and cranberry beans were cooked in a hazelnut butter and lent lovely textural layers and pops of green, vegetal flavors, while the ground cherry choucroute added tang and acid. "What is ground cherry choucroute?" do I hear you say? Choucroute is a traditional Anglo-Germanic (Um, I made that up: just think Alsace) accompaniment to many meats, especially sausages, and is, in layman's terms (the only terms I use, incidentally, when it comes to cooking) a hot sauerkraut cooked in FAT (this time, pork fat, of course) and seasoned with all sorts (in this case, caraway, juniper, Hendrix gin, amongst other things), and ground cherries are little bursts of flavor that look like caperberries but are most likely a cross between a tomatillo and a gooseberry. Finally, crispy pancetta and pork cracklins provided more textural interest and depth of flavor.
So due to Course 2's Bavarian origins, the Sattler Zweigelt seemed a natural contender and an interesting foil to the Lesec Chateauneuf du Pape. The thing about Sattler is that he's just so darn food-friendly, and his juicy acid did wonders with the tangy choucroute. Dark cherry fruit echoed the dried cherries in the farce and soft tannins mingled well with the crispy pancetta and cracklins. Sounds great, right? It was, but Lesec was better, if you can believe it. Simply the presence of garrige, in my opinion, rounded out the flavors and gave CdP its edge as the true winner. It is difficult to explain the magic that happens in the mouth with the right wine-food match. Some wines are simply made for some foods, as was the case with Lesec and Course 2. I will say that perhaps the age difference between Lesec and Sattler could've lent an advantage--after all, Lesec has had time for the tannic qualities to mellow and integrate, the fruit to become silkier, and the garrigue to take center stage.
Favorite: 2004 Lesec CdP
Course 3: Dark chocolate gianduja torte with salted caramel buttercream and Frangelico ice cream
Preliminary Pairings: Frangelico, Warres 10yr Tawny Porto, Alvear Solera Cream Sherry
Gianduja is not fancy nutella (ok, it is). Seriously. The torte was dense and rich, with an almost flourless chocolate cake consistency. Pulverized hazelnuts were studded throughout the cake and it laid atop a swoosh of chocolate-caramel sauce. Salted caramel buttercream lightened up the plate a bit, as did Frangelico ice cream, and a yummy hazelnut touille added crunch and echoed the hazelnutty flavors in the gianduja.
Frangelico was a no-brainer, but some people don't like liqueurs and I was curiuos to know which of our dessert wines would be best. The staff was divided (again) between Warre's and Alvear, but it seemed that in the end, Alvear showed himself to a slightly better advantage. After all the sherry has those nutty qualities that perfectly echoed the hazelnuts in the dish, as well as a slightly less raisinated flavor profile as compared to Warre's.
Favorite: Alvear Sherry
So there you have it: Fall's first offical Farm Dinner. Harvest season is upon us and it's only gonna get more hearty, rich, and comforting. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to stare into my closet for the next 45 minutes so I can figure out what to wear that won't be too hot for the next 2 hours until the sun goes down and the temperature plummets. Love it!
Monday 09.21.09
Course 1: Grilled Spanish mackerel with porcini mushrooms, raw autumn vegetables, and white miso
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Prager Gruner Veltliner, 2007 Jean-Luc Colombo Cotes du Rhone La Redonne Blanc, 2007 Sattler Family Zweigelt
Mackerel is an oily fish, grilled to perfection here and tempered, texturally, with bright, raw vegetables. Porcini mushrooms were pureed with white miso to add earth and a little bit of that elusive umami to serve as a bridge between the fishy mackerel and the clean flavors of local butternut squash, chioggia beets, celery root, and shaved pear. Mustard oil (an amazing product--not mustard infused olive oil, but the actual oil of mustard seeds) added subtle heat.
I needed wines that wouldn't overpower the delicacy of raw vegetables but could stand up to the rather pungent mackerel and support the earthiness of the porcinis. Luckily, Prager GV has all the right components: a pristine, mineral driven palate with hints of austere citrus fruit and the necessary acid backed by crisp bursts of near-effervescence. Perfectly tart with the uncooked vegetables and possessing just the right amount of unctuousness in the mouth, Prager GV was a dream come true with the mackerel dish. Jean-Luc Colombo, whose Cotes-du-Rhone Blanc is a Lula staff fave, has just a tad too much honeyed-fruit not to clash with the mackerel, although it was lovely with the squash and beets and truly allowed the spicy mustard oil to shine. Finally, Sattler Zweigelt (another pairing stand-by) showed off its versatility yet again by mellowing out next to the mackerel and mustard (while still providing delicate, yet prevalent flavor) and matching up brilliantly to the juicy, refreshing vegetable salad.
Favorite: 2007 Prager GV
Course 2: Slow roasted Gunthorp Farm pork shoulder with brussels sprouts and shell beans, hazelnut butter, pancetta, and ground cherry 'choucroute'
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Sattler Family Zweigelt, 2004 Patrick Lesec Selections Chateauneuf du Pape Pierres Dorees
When sous-chef Mike told me that a prevalent flavor idea behind the pork shoulder was
"forest floor" I immediately thought of Chateauneuf du Pape, especially considering the herbs-du-provence triumph of this summer's 3-D bacon moment. Like Costello Tagliapietra's elegently draped silks and velvets of Fall 2009 in the most gorgeous hues of muted slates, aubergines, and mustards as a direct response to their flashes of brightly colored taffetas for the season before, the forest floor characteristics of garrigue (that ever-controversial description for the terroir of the Southern Rhone and Provence) are autumn's darker, headier answer to the golden, late-summer-afternoon-sun-soaked qualities of its herbs-du-provence counterpart (remember: lavender, thyme, rosemary, etc).
First, a bit about the dish: Gunthorp Farm pork shoulders were cured in caraway, garlic, and thyme, and roasted and rolled around a farce (which is basically a stuffing) of braised red cabbage, dried cherries, and hazelnuts (it's like you can feel the leaves falling and that autumn afternoon chill already, eh?). Brussels sprouts and cranberry beans were cooked in a hazelnut butter and lent lovely textural layers and pops of green, vegetal flavors, while the ground cherry choucroute added tang and acid. "What is ground cherry choucroute?" do I hear you say? Choucroute is a traditional Anglo-Germanic (Um, I made that up: just think Alsace) accompaniment to many meats, especially sausages, and is, in layman's terms (the only terms I use, incidentally, when it comes to cooking) a hot sauerkraut cooked in FAT (this time, pork fat, of course) and seasoned with all sorts (in this case, caraway, juniper, Hendrix gin, amongst other things), and ground cherries are little bursts of flavor that look like caperberries but are most likely a cross between a tomatillo and a gooseberry. Finally, crispy pancetta and pork cracklins provided more textural interest and depth of flavor.
So due to Course 2's Bavarian origins, the Sattler Zweigelt seemed a natural contender and an interesting foil to the Lesec Chateauneuf du Pape. The thing about Sattler is that he's just so darn food-friendly, and his juicy acid did wonders with the tangy choucroute. Dark cherry fruit echoed the dried cherries in the farce and soft tannins mingled well with the crispy pancetta and cracklins. Sounds great, right? It was, but Lesec was better, if you can believe it. Simply the presence of garrige, in my opinion, rounded out the flavors and gave CdP its edge as the true winner. It is difficult to explain the magic that happens in the mouth with the right wine-food match. Some wines are simply made for some foods, as was the case with Lesec and Course 2. I will say that perhaps the age difference between Lesec and Sattler could've lent an advantage--after all, Lesec has had time for the tannic qualities to mellow and integrate, the fruit to become silkier, and the garrigue to take center stage.
Favorite: 2004 Lesec CdP
Course 3: Dark chocolate gianduja torte with salted caramel buttercream and Frangelico ice cream
Preliminary Pairings: Frangelico, Warres 10yr Tawny Porto, Alvear Solera Cream Sherry
Gianduja is not fancy nutella (ok, it is). Seriously. The torte was dense and rich, with an almost flourless chocolate cake consistency. Pulverized hazelnuts were studded throughout the cake and it laid atop a swoosh of chocolate-caramel sauce. Salted caramel buttercream lightened up the plate a bit, as did Frangelico ice cream, and a yummy hazelnut touille added crunch and echoed the hazelnutty flavors in the gianduja.
Frangelico was a no-brainer, but some people don't like liqueurs and I was curiuos to know which of our dessert wines would be best. The staff was divided (again) between Warre's and Alvear, but it seemed that in the end, Alvear showed himself to a slightly better advantage. After all the sherry has those nutty qualities that perfectly echoed the hazelnuts in the dish, as well as a slightly less raisinated flavor profile as compared to Warre's.
Favorite: Alvear Sherry
So there you have it: Fall's first offical Farm Dinner. Harvest season is upon us and it's only gonna get more hearty, rich, and comforting. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to stare into my closet for the next 45 minutes so I can figure out what to wear that won't be too hot for the next 2 hours until the sun goes down and the temperature plummets. Love it!
Monday, September 14, 2009
What's Up, Doc?
Lot's of changes here at the LC. With the departure of Nicole Pedersen, much-missed sous-chef, the staff and I were on tenterhooks to see what Mike, brand new Lula Sous in Nicole's place (and would-be winner of Sweetest 'Stache Ever Award) would debut for his first-ever Farm Dinner. Duncan took Course 1 (as evidenced by another play-on-a-classic--tuna melt and tomato soup), and Mike took Course 2 and boldly went straight for the gusto. Melissa, naturally, hit another one out of the park with a much-anticipated cheese course.
Monday, 09.14.09
Course 1: Late summer heirloom tomato bisque with smoked trout, green beens, and brioche
Preliminary Pairings: 2008 Big Fire Pinot Gris, 2005 d'Antiche Terre Greco di Tufo, 2006 Buglioni Valpolicella
As we've been hearing in increasingly exasperated tones from anyone who cares all summer, this year's tomato crop has been disappointing. The lack of hot weather and heavy rainfall has resulted in slightly watery, slightly bland fruit. What better way to play up the positive qualities in this season's unfortunate offering than to turn those tommies into smoky, tangy, earthy, slightly peppery soup? City Farm tomatoes were roasted and pureed with cream--some of the tomatoes were smoked, as well. The inspired addition of house-smoked Rushing Waters trout lent another dimension to the aforementioned smoky aspects of the dish, as the fish was folded with Neal's Yard Ogleshield ractlette-style cheese and spread on little toasts to be dunked into the soup. Pickled Nichols Farm green beans added the usual zip and tang, and Sweet Earth parsley, plus City Farm celery and ramps added explosions of bright green flavors in each mouthful.
We liked both Big Fire and Greco, but for different reasons. Big Fire, with all of its peachy fruit and stony minerality, not to mention high, food-friendly acid, stole the show and stood out as a tasty counterpart to the soup. Greco di Tufo is all about almost-effervescent acidity, briny minerality, and light, citrus fruit. The staff and I were of two minds again, some of us enjoying the fruit-forwardness of Big Fire while others (myself included) thought Greco's subtle elegance was a better match.
We all agreed, however, that good old Buglioni truly did itself proud, with its juicy fruit qualities and slightly chewy mouthfeel nicely complementing the flavors and textures of the bisque.
Favorites: Big Fire, Greco, and Bugs!
Course 2: Handmade orecchiette with Gunthorp Farm rabbit, black kale, braised olives, pumpkin seed oil, and rosemary
Preliminary Pairings: 2006 Buglioni Valpolicella, 2007 Tenuta Garetto Barbera d'Asti
Mmmmm, rabbit. Greg Gunthorp's tenderly raised bunnies were braised in Belgian beer and picholine olives, and the braising jus served as the base for the sauce on the hand-made orecchiette. Pan roasted chanterelle mushrooms and pumpkin seed gremolata lent depth of flavor, spice, and a little sweetness, while City Farm black kale balanced with acid and earthiness. Reduced sherry vinegar throughout supported the sweetness and acid.
I wanted to go Italian, so I kept Buglioni as a contender and brought out Tenuta Garetto, one of our favorite pairing wines and an all around awesome barbera. TG exhibits uper subtle, fragrant dark fruit and spice, which I thought would pair nicely with the rabbit and pumpkin seeds, and velvety tannins and a background of earth and funk which would stand up to the richness of the orrechiette and the earthiness of the kale. As TG is a more complex wine than Buglioni, it seemed to contain the X-Factor for Course 2, but Buglioni didn't go down without a fight. A truly enjoyable wine, Bugs (the wine, not the bunny) still tasted delicious, if a little simple, with the wabbit dish.
Favorite: TG Barbera, but Bugs is always a favorite (the wine, not the bunny, but he's great, too)
Course 3: Prairie Fruits Farm Roxanne with financier, Klug Farm grape sorbet, and candied almonds
Preliminary Pairings: Vinhos Barbeito Madeira Boston Bual, Warre's 10 Year Tawny Porto
Oh, finally a cheese course! Having never tasted Barbeito Madeira with a Farm Dinner, I was excited to have a chance to test it out (especially because the staff and I started comparing dessert wines during some of our preshift meetings). What can I say? Super nutty and light with slight hints of caramel, the Barbeito was perfect with Prairie Fruit's raw sheep's Roxanne and Melissa's innovative uses of Klug Farm jupiter grapes (sorbet, financier filling, and a little salad), not to mention candied marcona almonds. The delicate sweetness of the Madeira matched up to the Swan Creek Farm honey dressing on the grape and almond salad. Deeeelish. Warre's Tawny, a staff favorite, was a bit too big and powerful for Course 3 and we were all proud to say Barbeito finally made an appearance for a suggested pairing.
Favorite: Barbeito
Th-th-th-that's all, folks, until next Monday. Tune in and see what those loony sous do next!
Monday, 09.14.09
Course 1: Late summer heirloom tomato bisque with smoked trout, green beens, and brioche
Preliminary Pairings: 2008 Big Fire Pinot Gris, 2005 d'Antiche Terre Greco di Tufo, 2006 Buglioni Valpolicella
As we've been hearing in increasingly exasperated tones from anyone who cares all summer, this year's tomato crop has been disappointing. The lack of hot weather and heavy rainfall has resulted in slightly watery, slightly bland fruit. What better way to play up the positive qualities in this season's unfortunate offering than to turn those tommies into smoky, tangy, earthy, slightly peppery soup? City Farm tomatoes were roasted and pureed with cream--some of the tomatoes were smoked, as well. The inspired addition of house-smoked Rushing Waters trout lent another dimension to the aforementioned smoky aspects of the dish, as the fish was folded with Neal's Yard Ogleshield ractlette-style cheese and spread on little toasts to be dunked into the soup. Pickled Nichols Farm green beans added the usual zip and tang, and Sweet Earth parsley, plus City Farm celery and ramps added explosions of bright green flavors in each mouthful.
We liked both Big Fire and Greco, but for different reasons. Big Fire, with all of its peachy fruit and stony minerality, not to mention high, food-friendly acid, stole the show and stood out as a tasty counterpart to the soup. Greco di Tufo is all about almost-effervescent acidity, briny minerality, and light, citrus fruit. The staff and I were of two minds again, some of us enjoying the fruit-forwardness of Big Fire while others (myself included) thought Greco's subtle elegance was a better match.
We all agreed, however, that good old Buglioni truly did itself proud, with its juicy fruit qualities and slightly chewy mouthfeel nicely complementing the flavors and textures of the bisque.
Favorites: Big Fire, Greco, and Bugs!
Course 2: Handmade orecchiette with Gunthorp Farm rabbit, black kale, braised olives, pumpkin seed oil, and rosemary
Preliminary Pairings: 2006 Buglioni Valpolicella, 2007 Tenuta Garetto Barbera d'Asti
Mmmmm, rabbit. Greg Gunthorp's tenderly raised bunnies were braised in Belgian beer and picholine olives, and the braising jus served as the base for the sauce on the hand-made orecchiette. Pan roasted chanterelle mushrooms and pumpkin seed gremolata lent depth of flavor, spice, and a little sweetness, while City Farm black kale balanced with acid and earthiness. Reduced sherry vinegar throughout supported the sweetness and acid.
I wanted to go Italian, so I kept Buglioni as a contender and brought out Tenuta Garetto, one of our favorite pairing wines and an all around awesome barbera. TG exhibits uper subtle, fragrant dark fruit and spice, which I thought would pair nicely with the rabbit and pumpkin seeds, and velvety tannins and a background of earth and funk which would stand up to the richness of the orrechiette and the earthiness of the kale. As TG is a more complex wine than Buglioni, it seemed to contain the X-Factor for Course 2, but Buglioni didn't go down without a fight. A truly enjoyable wine, Bugs (the wine, not the bunny) still tasted delicious, if a little simple, with the wabbit dish.
Favorite: TG Barbera, but Bugs is always a favorite (the wine, not the bunny, but he's great, too)
Course 3: Prairie Fruits Farm Roxanne with financier, Klug Farm grape sorbet, and candied almonds
Preliminary Pairings: Vinhos Barbeito Madeira Boston Bual, Warre's 10 Year Tawny Porto
Oh, finally a cheese course! Having never tasted Barbeito Madeira with a Farm Dinner, I was excited to have a chance to test it out (especially because the staff and I started comparing dessert wines during some of our preshift meetings). What can I say? Super nutty and light with slight hints of caramel, the Barbeito was perfect with Prairie Fruit's raw sheep's Roxanne and Melissa's innovative uses of Klug Farm jupiter grapes (sorbet, financier filling, and a little salad), not to mention candied marcona almonds. The delicate sweetness of the Madeira matched up to the Swan Creek Farm honey dressing on the grape and almond salad. Deeeelish. Warre's Tawny, a staff favorite, was a bit too big and powerful for Course 3 and we were all proud to say Barbeito finally made an appearance for a suggested pairing.
Favorite: Barbeito
Th-th-th-that's all, folks, until next Monday. Tune in and see what those loony sous do next!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Groggy Bloggy
Having been doped up with fairly heavy anesthesia during yet another cortizone shot for my herniated L4 and L5 discs this morning, I'm still feeling a bit out-of-it. Forgive me for the lateness of the posting as well as if I start rambling into oblivion. No surprises last night--all of the wines we tasted are oldie-but-goodie Farm Dinner faves. That's ok, right? After all, if it ain't broke (or herniated) don't fix it.
Monday, 08.31.09
Course 1: Fingerling potatoes and heirloom Italian braising greens with sunny side quail egg, bottarga, and baby leeks
Preliminary Pairings: NV Joseph Perrier Brut Royale, 2007 75 Wine Co. Sauvignon Blanc
Duncan's haute potato salad was tangy and rich, with a hint of earthiness and a pleasing texture . . . pretty much like regular ol' potato salad, but better ingredients. The Green Acres Farm fingerlings were dressed in dijon and olive oil and tossed with Windy Knoll baby leeks, Living Waters red dandelion greens, and Kinnickinnick Farms minestra nera (an heirloom Italian brassica (broccoli) family green), all with lemon juice and lemon vinaigrette. A sunny side up Swan Creek Farm quail egg (and Mom and Dad, I know you bemoan the recent proliferation of quail eggs on all your favorite dishes, but you've gotta jump on the bandwagon here, they are delicious) provided fat once sliced and interspersed, and shaved bottarga (dried tuna roe) added crunch.
A "fancy" dish needs a fancy wine, right? Hence my old reliable Joseph Perrier Brut. Like I've said before, beautiful golden bubbles with toasty oak and zippy acid. Perfect foil for the richness of the egg and the starch in the potatoes, not to mention the subtle fruit lent lovely balance to the earthy greens. Part of me wonders if we like Champagne with fatty foods for the same reason we like Coke with burgers and fries--for the way the carbonation diminishes and cuts through the fat. Anyone? 75 Wine SB is all lemon and lemon peel, with a slight salinity, fresh herbs, and beautifully proportioned acid. Absolutely a must with the lemony vinaigrette and the tangy dijon. We seem to be enjoying a nice equilibrium lately with our Farm Dinner wines--some we like as a counterpart to the dish, and some we like as a complement.
Favorites: JP as a counterpart, 75 as a complement
Course 2: Rose poached Coho salmon with Israeli cous cous, fennel, black olive, saffron, and Michigan grapes
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 75 Wine Co. Sauvignon Blanc, 2008 Triennes Rose, 2007 Saint Gregory Pinot Meunier
Jason asked me to recommend a rose for his salmon poaching (ah, poaching the filets, not, like, going out to illegally fish for salmon . . . but you guys knew that . . . ) Anyway, my first thought was the grapefruit citrusy and lightly spiced Triennes, but I asked JH for a bit more info and was delighted to hear that we were both barking up the same tree. I asked him where he felt Course 2 originated (as in California, or Morocco, or Bora-Bora) and he said Provence! Brilliant, for Triennes, too, hails from Provence. So, wild-caught Cohos were poached sous-vide with the Triennes, vegetable stock, tarragon, and some other herbs-du-you-know-where. Underneath the filets, a bed of Israeli cous cous thickened with pureed white beans. On the side, a salad of Kinnickinnick spigarello (another heirloom Italian brassica), Klug Farm jupiter grapes (gigantic, juicy, purple numbers), lemon confit, and fennel. Finally, two different purees swooshed up the sides of the plate: saffron-orange and black olive. A very light and well balanced dish, with fennel and black olive layering the flavors and adding depth.
75 and Triennes were pretty much no-brainers, with the citrus aspects of both complementing the lemon confit and saffron puree, and providing tartness and crispness to balance the salmon and cous cous. Saint Gregory, as we all know, is a smart little alternative to pinot noir and a favorite of mine with richer fish and earthier flavors. Saint Gregs is light in body but substantial of flavor and juicy fruit, as well as possessing a slight brooding funkiness and zippy spice. We could truly taste Gregs with the salmon dish, not just sense it, and in this way it became not only the most challenging pairing with Course 2, but also a way to showcase a truly special wine. (And it showed--we practically sold out of it!)
Favorites: All three, but Saint Gregory was the special favorite
Course 3: Roasted plum and frangiapane tart with almond-plum ice cream
Preliminary Pairings: NV Patrick Bottex Vin du Bugey-Cerdon, 2005 Oremus Late-Harvest Tokaji
Frangiapane isn't for everybody, but die-hards are obsessed with it. Frangiapane is basically the cake form of almond paste (controversial marzipan is the candy form). I think frangiapane is deeeeeelish, and absolutely wonderful with fruit. Course 3 was fairly straightforward, with Klug Farm plums as the main component in the tart with a light-as-air shortdough crust. Melissa swirled plum sorbet into almond brittle ice cream to create the dreamiest dreamsicle. Bugey, oh Bugey, will you ever disappoint us? Probably not. If any of you out there have not been to Lula to experience the Bug, shame on you. Two recent converts (ladies at the bar with the bundt cake, can I get a what-what) can attest to Bugey's power as an aphrodisiac. The juicy sweet red fruit notes enhanced the sugar-plum-fairy tart while standing up to the rich and buttery crust and ice cream components. Tojaki was just good--definitely not bad, but didn't complete the package as well as Bug. I think that the citrus notes in Oremus were slightly overwhelming and didn't quite mesh with the almond flavors as I had hoped.
Favorite: Bugey, natch. And Frangelico, which Kendal and Dave were kind enough to sample for us.
I should be up and running (or, at least, making the rounds in my low-healed pumps) by tomorrow, and hopefully I'll see many of you sampling the goods. E-kisses!
Monday, 08.31.09
Course 1: Fingerling potatoes and heirloom Italian braising greens with sunny side quail egg, bottarga, and baby leeks
Preliminary Pairings: NV Joseph Perrier Brut Royale, 2007 75 Wine Co. Sauvignon Blanc
Duncan's haute potato salad was tangy and rich, with a hint of earthiness and a pleasing texture . . . pretty much like regular ol' potato salad, but better ingredients. The Green Acres Farm fingerlings were dressed in dijon and olive oil and tossed with Windy Knoll baby leeks, Living Waters red dandelion greens, and Kinnickinnick Farms minestra nera (an heirloom Italian brassica (broccoli) family green), all with lemon juice and lemon vinaigrette. A sunny side up Swan Creek Farm quail egg (and Mom and Dad, I know you bemoan the recent proliferation of quail eggs on all your favorite dishes, but you've gotta jump on the bandwagon here, they are delicious) provided fat once sliced and interspersed, and shaved bottarga (dried tuna roe) added crunch.
A "fancy" dish needs a fancy wine, right? Hence my old reliable Joseph Perrier Brut. Like I've said before, beautiful golden bubbles with toasty oak and zippy acid. Perfect foil for the richness of the egg and the starch in the potatoes, not to mention the subtle fruit lent lovely balance to the earthy greens. Part of me wonders if we like Champagne with fatty foods for the same reason we like Coke with burgers and fries--for the way the carbonation diminishes and cuts through the fat. Anyone? 75 Wine SB is all lemon and lemon peel, with a slight salinity, fresh herbs, and beautifully proportioned acid. Absolutely a must with the lemony vinaigrette and the tangy dijon. We seem to be enjoying a nice equilibrium lately with our Farm Dinner wines--some we like as a counterpart to the dish, and some we like as a complement.
Favorites: JP as a counterpart, 75 as a complement
Course 2: Rose poached Coho salmon with Israeli cous cous, fennel, black olive, saffron, and Michigan grapes
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 75 Wine Co. Sauvignon Blanc, 2008 Triennes Rose, 2007 Saint Gregory Pinot Meunier
Jason asked me to recommend a rose for his salmon poaching (ah, poaching the filets, not, like, going out to illegally fish for salmon . . . but you guys knew that . . . ) Anyway, my first thought was the grapefruit citrusy and lightly spiced Triennes, but I asked JH for a bit more info and was delighted to hear that we were both barking up the same tree. I asked him where he felt Course 2 originated (as in California, or Morocco, or Bora-Bora) and he said Provence! Brilliant, for Triennes, too, hails from Provence. So, wild-caught Cohos were poached sous-vide with the Triennes, vegetable stock, tarragon, and some other herbs-du-you-know-where. Underneath the filets, a bed of Israeli cous cous thickened with pureed white beans. On the side, a salad of Kinnickinnick spigarello (another heirloom Italian brassica), Klug Farm jupiter grapes (gigantic, juicy, purple numbers), lemon confit, and fennel. Finally, two different purees swooshed up the sides of the plate: saffron-orange and black olive. A very light and well balanced dish, with fennel and black olive layering the flavors and adding depth.
75 and Triennes were pretty much no-brainers, with the citrus aspects of both complementing the lemon confit and saffron puree, and providing tartness and crispness to balance the salmon and cous cous. Saint Gregory, as we all know, is a smart little alternative to pinot noir and a favorite of mine with richer fish and earthier flavors. Saint Gregs is light in body but substantial of flavor and juicy fruit, as well as possessing a slight brooding funkiness and zippy spice. We could truly taste Gregs with the salmon dish, not just sense it, and in this way it became not only the most challenging pairing with Course 2, but also a way to showcase a truly special wine. (And it showed--we practically sold out of it!)
Favorites: All three, but Saint Gregory was the special favorite
Course 3: Roasted plum and frangiapane tart with almond-plum ice cream
Preliminary Pairings: NV Patrick Bottex Vin du Bugey-Cerdon, 2005 Oremus Late-Harvest Tokaji
Frangiapane isn't for everybody, but die-hards are obsessed with it. Frangiapane is basically the cake form of almond paste (controversial marzipan is the candy form). I think frangiapane is deeeeeelish, and absolutely wonderful with fruit. Course 3 was fairly straightforward, with Klug Farm plums as the main component in the tart with a light-as-air shortdough crust. Melissa swirled plum sorbet into almond brittle ice cream to create the dreamiest dreamsicle. Bugey, oh Bugey, will you ever disappoint us? Probably not. If any of you out there have not been to Lula to experience the Bug, shame on you. Two recent converts (ladies at the bar with the bundt cake, can I get a what-what) can attest to Bugey's power as an aphrodisiac. The juicy sweet red fruit notes enhanced the sugar-plum-fairy tart while standing up to the rich and buttery crust and ice cream components. Tojaki was just good--definitely not bad, but didn't complete the package as well as Bug. I think that the citrus notes in Oremus were slightly overwhelming and didn't quite mesh with the almond flavors as I had hoped.
Favorite: Bugey, natch. And Frangelico, which Kendal and Dave were kind enough to sample for us.
I should be up and running (or, at least, making the rounds in my low-healed pumps) by tomorrow, and hopefully I'll see many of you sampling the goods. E-kisses!
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Old Favorites, New Twists
Everything that's old is new again, right? The eighties are back in fashion this fall, with power-shouldered jackets and leather pants waltzing down the runways. Singer-songwriters the Avett Brothers sound, at times, suspiciously like the Everly Brothers, and even seventies-style wallpaper is suddenly chic. Last night, Lula Cafe decided to jump on the "retro" bandwagon with some old-timey culinary standbys receiving shiny new treatment.
Course 1: Pumpernickel and black truffle panade with Klug Farm nectarines, pistachio, pickled red shallot, and banyuls vinaigrette
Preliminary Pairings: 2008 Hopler Gruner Veltliner, 2007 Rudolph Muller Riesling Spatlese
Ah, pumpernickel. The word brings back memories of various incarnations of the heartly black bread in my youth. Pumpernickel loaf, pumpernickel bagels, tiny pumpernickel toasts with cheese spread and smoked salmon . . . growing up, pumpernickel often made an appearance at breakfast, or better, at cocktail hour (more commonly known as "post-time" on my mother's side of the family), usually in the toast-and-lox form. Last night, pumpernickel arrived at dinnertime and served as the bread in "savory bread pudding," (aka "strada" or "panade) and was layered with tasty black truffle and Prairie Fruit's Farm sheep's milk ricotta. Keeping with tradition, Nicole (in her last-ever Lula Monday Night Farm Dinner . . . sniff) added cocoa nibs and espresso to the batter (remember, bread pudding is egg-yolk soaked) as is often done to American pumpernickel (Germans (and Jews) usually just stick with the rye).
So the panade was baked in a pan, and then sliced and seared to-order, resulting in a satisfyingly toasty texture. Next to it, a lovely salad of Werp Farm mustard greens and red oak lettuce, Green Acres Farm pickled shallots, Klug nectarines, and toasted pistachios (bathed before toasting in the same egg batter as the panade and echoing the flavors of cocoa and pistachio), all dressed in nectarine vinaigrette, added tangy acid and sweetness (especially delightful next to the earthy truffles). Truffles chopped with cocoa nibs and espresso dotted the plate.
Interestingly (at least to me), my wine selections were decidedly Bavarian, even though nothing on Course 1 (besides the pumpernickel) particularly reflected such roots. I chose both the gruner and the riesling due to their high-acid contents (with the fatty bread-pudding in mind) and the mutability of both varietals. 2008 Hopler, from Burgenland, Austria is new to Lula and I was itching to test-drive it as a lower-priced alternative to spendy staff-fave Prager GV. Hopler is a fruit-bomb, with juicy apricot and peach flavors and a briny minerality. 2007 Muller hails from Germany's Mosel River and is Lula's first-ever spatlese (late-harvest) riesling. Muller has sugary components, to be sure, but is backed by balanced acid and spice. Muller won out, as the sweetness proved to be an asset. Absolutely fabulous with the nectarines, and nicely subtle with the panade, Muller was the clearly the best.
Favorite: Muller Spatlese
Course 2: Swan Creek Farm skirt steak with sweet corn and lobster aioli, lobster mushroom, parsnip, and seared market peppers
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Stoller Pinot Noir Dundee Hills, 2007 Mackenzie Merlot
Folks, you never thought you'd see the day, but Lula Cafe offered up a Surf-and-Turf with a side of creamed corn. Huh? Turf: skirt steak (without all the usual toughness, Bravo!). Surf: lobster meat, delicately interspersed throughout a serving of this summer's MVP, Nichol's Farm sweet corn (off the cob). How was the corn "creamed"? A dollop of lobster aioli on top. Clever. Cheeky (Duncan), but clever indeed. Underneath the steak, as if the dish wasn't rich enough, a silky puree of parsnips and yukon gold potatos, and on the side (Dad, you'll like this): grilled local peppers of all kinds: melrose, hungarian wax beans, and more. (Incidentally, the same peppers, charred and pureed, served as the marinade for the steak. Yummy). Lula Cafe also offered up "Chef's Humor" last night, adding lobster mushrooms (milk cap mushrooms, mutated due to some beneficial bacteria, to take on a creamy, lobster-like flavor and the appearance of the pinkish-red crustaceans) on the same dish as real lobster. Hilarious. Dorky (Duncan), but hilarious . . . or, at least, mildly amusing.
It may seem odd to have chosen pinot noir to pair with steak, but in my experience at Lula, even dishes that sound like they might be heavy will still err on the lighter side. Considering all of the nice summery additions of corn and beans, not to mention the Surf aspect, I decided not to go too heavy-handed on the wines. I like to call the 2007 Stoller (from Willamette Valley, making its first appearance here on the blog) a "savory wine" because many of its flavors do not reflect fruit, but rather soy sauce, iron, leather, and spice. Just the right amount of confected cherry sweetens the palate, and the tannins are integrated and unobtrusive. I have been dying to break out Mackenzie for awhile--really a dynamite Merlot, and very reasonably priced. Truly a layered wine, with vanilla-oak, aromatic berries, and nice acid, and a little fuller-bodied in case pinot noir was overpowerd by steak.
I think Stoller prevailed due to its complexity, and it was an inspired pairing--both food and wine showed off their best assets. Also, my staff got a chance to revisit Stoller and decide they might actually like it, because some of them have been riding the fence on it for ages.
Favorite: Stoller
Course 3: Roasted corn and blueberry ice creams with johnny cakes and blueberry syrup
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 M. Chapoutier Banyuls, Alvear Solera Cream Sherry
Johnny cakes, readers, are delectable little cornmeal pancakes with absolutely no leavening that, when fried, are tiny little crispy circles of golden delicousness. Pair them with blueberries and repeating sweet corn flavors and you've got an absolutely slam-dunk dessert. Melissa's sweet corn ice cream should be placed in the annals of decadence and excess along with Louis XIV's Palace at Versailles and Celine Dion's wedding gown (although to be honest, much more tasteful than the latter). Last night's incarnation was creamy and almost savory, and a delicious foil to tangy blueberry and sweet corn sherbet (made with buttermilk) and refreshing bluberry sorbet. The warmth of the just-fried johnny cakes melted the ice creams just slightly, in a good way, and home-made candied corn added crunch.
Last time Melissa made a blueberry dessert, Alvear Sherry tasted deelish. Not the case here--too light and too nutty in flavor. Banyuls was all jammy berriness and couldn't have been more perfect. Perfect texture, perfect flavor, perfect body. You must experience this.
Favorite: Chapoutier Banyuls
Skirt steak may not make an appearance on the dinner specials menu for a few weeks, but it'll be there eventually. I'm not sure about the panade, either, but my suspicions are that it's too good not to keep around for awhile.
All the wines mentioned tonight will be open Wednesday and Thursday. Come on in!
Course 1: Pumpernickel and black truffle panade with Klug Farm nectarines, pistachio, pickled red shallot, and banyuls vinaigrette
Preliminary Pairings: 2008 Hopler Gruner Veltliner, 2007 Rudolph Muller Riesling Spatlese
Ah, pumpernickel. The word brings back memories of various incarnations of the heartly black bread in my youth. Pumpernickel loaf, pumpernickel bagels, tiny pumpernickel toasts with cheese spread and smoked salmon . . . growing up, pumpernickel often made an appearance at breakfast, or better, at cocktail hour (more commonly known as "post-time" on my mother's side of the family), usually in the toast-and-lox form. Last night, pumpernickel arrived at dinnertime and served as the bread in "savory bread pudding," (aka "strada" or "panade) and was layered with tasty black truffle and Prairie Fruit's Farm sheep's milk ricotta. Keeping with tradition, Nicole (in her last-ever Lula Monday Night Farm Dinner . . . sniff) added cocoa nibs and espresso to the batter (remember, bread pudding is egg-yolk soaked) as is often done to American pumpernickel (Germans (and Jews) usually just stick with the rye).
So the panade was baked in a pan, and then sliced and seared to-order, resulting in a satisfyingly toasty texture. Next to it, a lovely salad of Werp Farm mustard greens and red oak lettuce, Green Acres Farm pickled shallots, Klug nectarines, and toasted pistachios (bathed before toasting in the same egg batter as the panade and echoing the flavors of cocoa and pistachio), all dressed in nectarine vinaigrette, added tangy acid and sweetness (especially delightful next to the earthy truffles). Truffles chopped with cocoa nibs and espresso dotted the plate.
Interestingly (at least to me), my wine selections were decidedly Bavarian, even though nothing on Course 1 (besides the pumpernickel) particularly reflected such roots. I chose both the gruner and the riesling due to their high-acid contents (with the fatty bread-pudding in mind) and the mutability of both varietals. 2008 Hopler, from Burgenland, Austria is new to Lula and I was itching to test-drive it as a lower-priced alternative to spendy staff-fave Prager GV. Hopler is a fruit-bomb, with juicy apricot and peach flavors and a briny minerality. 2007 Muller hails from Germany's Mosel River and is Lula's first-ever spatlese (late-harvest) riesling. Muller has sugary components, to be sure, but is backed by balanced acid and spice. Muller won out, as the sweetness proved to be an asset. Absolutely fabulous with the nectarines, and nicely subtle with the panade, Muller was the clearly the best.
Favorite: Muller Spatlese
Course 2: Swan Creek Farm skirt steak with sweet corn and lobster aioli, lobster mushroom, parsnip, and seared market peppers
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Stoller Pinot Noir Dundee Hills, 2007 Mackenzie Merlot
Folks, you never thought you'd see the day, but Lula Cafe offered up a Surf-and-Turf with a side of creamed corn. Huh? Turf: skirt steak (without all the usual toughness, Bravo!). Surf: lobster meat, delicately interspersed throughout a serving of this summer's MVP, Nichol's Farm sweet corn (off the cob). How was the corn "creamed"? A dollop of lobster aioli on top. Clever. Cheeky (Duncan), but clever indeed. Underneath the steak, as if the dish wasn't rich enough, a silky puree of parsnips and yukon gold potatos, and on the side (Dad, you'll like this): grilled local peppers of all kinds: melrose, hungarian wax beans, and more. (Incidentally, the same peppers, charred and pureed, served as the marinade for the steak. Yummy). Lula Cafe also offered up "Chef's Humor" last night, adding lobster mushrooms (milk cap mushrooms, mutated due to some beneficial bacteria, to take on a creamy, lobster-like flavor and the appearance of the pinkish-red crustaceans) on the same dish as real lobster. Hilarious. Dorky (Duncan), but hilarious . . . or, at least, mildly amusing.
It may seem odd to have chosen pinot noir to pair with steak, but in my experience at Lula, even dishes that sound like they might be heavy will still err on the lighter side. Considering all of the nice summery additions of corn and beans, not to mention the Surf aspect, I decided not to go too heavy-handed on the wines. I like to call the 2007 Stoller (from Willamette Valley, making its first appearance here on the blog) a "savory wine" because many of its flavors do not reflect fruit, but rather soy sauce, iron, leather, and spice. Just the right amount of confected cherry sweetens the palate, and the tannins are integrated and unobtrusive. I have been dying to break out Mackenzie for awhile--really a dynamite Merlot, and very reasonably priced. Truly a layered wine, with vanilla-oak, aromatic berries, and nice acid, and a little fuller-bodied in case pinot noir was overpowerd by steak.
I think Stoller prevailed due to its complexity, and it was an inspired pairing--both food and wine showed off their best assets. Also, my staff got a chance to revisit Stoller and decide they might actually like it, because some of them have been riding the fence on it for ages.
Favorite: Stoller
Course 3: Roasted corn and blueberry ice creams with johnny cakes and blueberry syrup
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 M. Chapoutier Banyuls, Alvear Solera Cream Sherry
Johnny cakes, readers, are delectable little cornmeal pancakes with absolutely no leavening that, when fried, are tiny little crispy circles of golden delicousness. Pair them with blueberries and repeating sweet corn flavors and you've got an absolutely slam-dunk dessert. Melissa's sweet corn ice cream should be placed in the annals of decadence and excess along with Louis XIV's Palace at Versailles and Celine Dion's wedding gown (although to be honest, much more tasteful than the latter). Last night's incarnation was creamy and almost savory, and a delicious foil to tangy blueberry and sweet corn sherbet (made with buttermilk) and refreshing bluberry sorbet. The warmth of the just-fried johnny cakes melted the ice creams just slightly, in a good way, and home-made candied corn added crunch.
Last time Melissa made a blueberry dessert, Alvear Sherry tasted deelish. Not the case here--too light and too nutty in flavor. Banyuls was all jammy berriness and couldn't have been more perfect. Perfect texture, perfect flavor, perfect body. You must experience this.
Favorite: Chapoutier Banyuls
Skirt steak may not make an appearance on the dinner specials menu for a few weeks, but it'll be there eventually. I'm not sure about the panade, either, but my suspicions are that it's too good not to keep around for awhile.
All the wines mentioned tonight will be open Wednesday and Thursday. Come on in!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Port in a Storm
The Chicagoans who braved the maelstrom last night were rewarded with a smorgasbord of delights from those crafty Lula chefs once again. Jason, Nicole, Duncan, and Melissa hit another one out of the park with no particular aim in mind other than to present beautifully prepared farm-to-table cooking, and so they did. Utilizing more of this summer's bounty, Farm Dinner was an exercise in classic dishes with slight tweaks to keep us all up-to-date and on-our-toes.
Course 1: 60-minute egg with tomato-leek fonduta, guanciale, and parsley pastina
Preliminary Pairings: NV Joseph Perrier Champagne, 2007 Rudolph Muller Riesling Kabinett
Here's an SAT-style analogy for you: Champagne::poached egg as riesling::BLANK? Tomatoes. Course 1 had both, and I wanted to show each off to its best advantage. Here's another SAT-style analogy: Champagne::Miriam's Farm Dinner Pairings as riesling::What Miriam Could Be Pairing Each Week With Farm Dinner If She Didn't Like Champagne So Much. Get the picture? So choosing between Champagne and riesling as the favorite for Course 1 is like choosing between my Chanel Rouge Allure lipstick in Lover and my Nars Allover Bronzer Duo in South Beach--each is equally flattering but for very different reasons.
Cherry tomatoes were slowly cooked with leeks, resulting in a melty (is that a word?), brothy concoction. Parsley pastina (house-made baby pasta) added mouthy texture while a balsamic vinegar-olive oil sous vide Living Temple Farm egg and guanciale (jowl bacon, yo!) lent fat and smoky flavors. Nice. As indicated above, if I'm eating a poached egg I like Champagne, and riesling with tomatoes is usually a fool-proof combo (acid loves acid). As usual, my staff were divided about favorites, although with none of the zealousness of last Monday. JP Champagne, with all of its clean mineral and citrus cut through the fat of the egg and bacon, and stood up to the juicy acid in the tomato-leek combo. Muller Kabinett (off-dry) riesling provided a complement to the tomatoes with its slightly juicier mouthfeel, and stony minerality melded nicely with the smokier aspects of the dish.
Some of you out there might think I'm reaching here, but I might say that the Nars South Beach bronzer::JP Champagne as Chanel Lover Rouge Allure::Muller Riesling . . . the first pair are glittery and luminous, designed to complement the warm, sultry tones in both face and dish, while the second pair bring out the juicier, just-bitten aspects (not kidding. Ladies, if you don't own Lover go buy it immediately--your lips instantly achieve that "I just bit into a strawberry" pout we all desire). Anyway, I'm digressing . . .
Favorites: Both!
Course 2: Summer bean cassoulet with duck confit, meatballs, and potato chips
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Merlin Cherrier Sancerre, 2007 Jean-Luc Colombo Cotes du Rhone Blanc, 2006 Domaine d'Aupilhac Coteaux du Languedoc
Nichols Farm romano and yellow beans and haricot verts were the stars of the dish, replacing white beans in a traditional cassoulet. A rich, yet delicate broth of chicken stock and cavolo nero supported the beans, duck confit and lightly spiced pork meatballs dotted throughout, and all was bread-crumb topped and served in a bowl with a side of a lightly-Champagne vinaigrette dressed salad studded with to-order potato chips. Yowza. In a way, Course 2 was easier to pair, with so many flavors and textures amalgamated together I just pulled some French faves (cassoulet, after all) and had a go. One item of note: the Aupilhac Coteaux du Languedoc comes from the Southern Rhone, where wines are imbued with that always-evasive yet ever-present flavor profile aspect of (Lula Staff: all-together, now) GARRIGUE. And what is garrigue? The word for the earthy notes in the Southern Rhone and Provence reflecting the brambly, shrubby, herbal terroir of those areas. Naturally, Duncan had used at least one of the herbs du Provence in his cassoulet, so the dark-fruited-yet-lightly-herbaceous-and-velvety-tannined D'Aupilhac was the clear winner.
Cherrier Sancerre, with its pristine mineral and light citrus fruit, came in second and provided a reasonable counterpart to cassoulet without being intrusive, and Colombo was too fruity, so:
Favorite: Coteaux du Languedoc
Course 3: White peach tart tatin with creamy caramel and white peach and creme fraiche ice cream
Preliminary Pairings: 2008 Saracco Moscato, Maculan Dinarello, Alvear Solera Cream Sherry
Peaches, caramel, puff pastry: a trifecta of happy flavors, and each dessert wine brought its own game. Saracco was a natural, with the bubbles cutting through fat as they are supposed to do and fruit and acid complementing as usual. Maculan Dinarello did the same as the Saracco but was a still alternative, and Solera Cream Sherry (you all know how I feel about it) brought out the dark, buttery nature of the caramel.
Favorites: Maculan, Alvear
Ok, I love you all, but it is late and (in honor of having just seen Julie and Julia, which everyone must do) Andrew made Lyonnaise salad and pan-seared pork chops, and I've (naturally) got Provencal Rose chilling, so I truly must dash . . .
but come in and taste the amazing wines we've opened. You know the drill.
Course 1: 60-minute egg with tomato-leek fonduta, guanciale, and parsley pastina
Preliminary Pairings: NV Joseph Perrier Champagne, 2007 Rudolph Muller Riesling Kabinett
Here's an SAT-style analogy for you: Champagne::poached egg as riesling::BLANK? Tomatoes. Course 1 had both, and I wanted to show each off to its best advantage. Here's another SAT-style analogy: Champagne::Miriam's Farm Dinner Pairings as riesling::What Miriam Could Be Pairing Each Week With Farm Dinner If She Didn't Like Champagne So Much. Get the picture? So choosing between Champagne and riesling as the favorite for Course 1 is like choosing between my Chanel Rouge Allure lipstick in Lover and my Nars Allover Bronzer Duo in South Beach--each is equally flattering but for very different reasons.
Cherry tomatoes were slowly cooked with leeks, resulting in a melty (is that a word?), brothy concoction. Parsley pastina (house-made baby pasta) added mouthy texture while a balsamic vinegar-olive oil sous vide Living Temple Farm egg and guanciale (jowl bacon, yo!) lent fat and smoky flavors. Nice. As indicated above, if I'm eating a poached egg I like Champagne, and riesling with tomatoes is usually a fool-proof combo (acid loves acid). As usual, my staff were divided about favorites, although with none of the zealousness of last Monday. JP Champagne, with all of its clean mineral and citrus cut through the fat of the egg and bacon, and stood up to the juicy acid in the tomato-leek combo. Muller Kabinett (off-dry) riesling provided a complement to the tomatoes with its slightly juicier mouthfeel, and stony minerality melded nicely with the smokier aspects of the dish.
Some of you out there might think I'm reaching here, but I might say that the Nars South Beach bronzer::JP Champagne as Chanel Lover Rouge Allure::Muller Riesling . . . the first pair are glittery and luminous, designed to complement the warm, sultry tones in both face and dish, while the second pair bring out the juicier, just-bitten aspects (not kidding. Ladies, if you don't own Lover go buy it immediately--your lips instantly achieve that "I just bit into a strawberry" pout we all desire). Anyway, I'm digressing . . .
Favorites: Both!
Course 2: Summer bean cassoulet with duck confit, meatballs, and potato chips
Preliminary Pairings: 2007 Merlin Cherrier Sancerre, 2007 Jean-Luc Colombo Cotes du Rhone Blanc, 2006 Domaine d'Aupilhac Coteaux du Languedoc
Nichols Farm romano and yellow beans and haricot verts were the stars of the dish, replacing white beans in a traditional cassoulet. A rich, yet delicate broth of chicken stock and cavolo nero supported the beans, duck confit and lightly spiced pork meatballs dotted throughout, and all was bread-crumb topped and served in a bowl with a side of a lightly-Champagne vinaigrette dressed salad studded with to-order potato chips. Yowza. In a way, Course 2 was easier to pair, with so many flavors and textures amalgamated together I just pulled some French faves (cassoulet, after all) and had a go. One item of note: the Aupilhac Coteaux du Languedoc comes from the Southern Rhone, where wines are imbued with that always-evasive yet ever-present flavor profile aspect of (Lula Staff: all-together, now) GARRIGUE. And what is garrigue? The word for the earthy notes in the Southern Rhone and Provence reflecting the brambly, shrubby, herbal terroir of those areas. Naturally, Duncan had used at least one of the herbs du Provence in his cassoulet, so the dark-fruited-yet-lightly-herbaceous-and-velvety-tannined D'Aupilhac was the clear winner.
Cherrier Sancerre, with its pristine mineral and light citrus fruit, came in second and provided a reasonable counterpart to cassoulet without being intrusive, and Colombo was too fruity, so:
Favorite: Coteaux du Languedoc
Course 3: White peach tart tatin with creamy caramel and white peach and creme fraiche ice cream
Preliminary Pairings: 2008 Saracco Moscato, Maculan Dinarello, Alvear Solera Cream Sherry
Peaches, caramel, puff pastry: a trifecta of happy flavors, and each dessert wine brought its own game. Saracco was a natural, with the bubbles cutting through fat as they are supposed to do and fruit and acid complementing as usual. Maculan Dinarello did the same as the Saracco but was a still alternative, and Solera Cream Sherry (you all know how I feel about it) brought out the dark, buttery nature of the caramel.
Favorites: Maculan, Alvear
Ok, I love you all, but it is late and (in honor of having just seen Julie and Julia, which everyone must do) Andrew made Lyonnaise salad and pan-seared pork chops, and I've (naturally) got Provencal Rose chilling, so I truly must dash . . .
but come in and taste the amazing wines we've opened. You know the drill.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)