I learned at this Salon from the Chef Cousin and from tasting that one of the great differences in domains is not from where the grapes come as many domains share the same parcelles, nor is it how they pick the grapes or even how they are handled after that, but when the winemaker put his or her particular skills to work. Do they ‘work’ the juice or the wine? Allowing the fruit to macerate longer will produce a bigger, chewier wine at a younger age. Letting the wine rest alone in casks produces wine that needs time in the bottle to be fully appreciated.
Good examples of 'worked' juice are Domaine Michel Magnien and Domaine Guyon. Michel Magnien is a younger son of a well-known Burgundian family. Négociants, eleveurs, producers, the Magnien have done and do all. The majority of the wine produced by Michel is made from purchased grapes although he does grow some in the Morey Saint Denis appellation. His production is exceedingly well done but has a mature taste even when young that arrives from macerating the fruit longer. The wine is round and filled with fruit. There is no tannin struggling against the fruit so often found in the young wines produced by other Burgundy producers. The Gevrey Chambertin could be best described as 'big and jammy,' not a positive remark in my mind.
Domain Guyon is a similar producer who is a supplier of the Chef Cousin. Guyon, located in Vosne-Romanée, produces wines from that area - Gevrey, Vosne, Nuits-St-George, and an Echezeaux Grand Cru that in 1999 received a 91-93 from Robert Parker (which just goes to show that Parker likes his Burgundy too young). The Chef Cousin buys several of Guyon's wines because there are people, in addition to Parker, who like Burgundy younger and for the price at Guyon one can buy very round, balanced, full, ready to drink wine from very known appellations.
At this point we found ourselves not just at another booth of one of the Chef Cousin’s suppliers, but behind their counter, holding glasses and bottles. So much for sip and spit! It was Domaine Dubois, a family domain making excellent wines. It was a pleasure to taste so many of Dubois’ reds at one time. I have now purchased some of them to put down for a few years. The structure of the 05’s probably will survive many more years of cellaring than the same wine from a different year. The problem is, however, the year is so good I am afraid I will want to open the bottles sooner rather than later. Their Chorey-les-Beaune and Savigny-les-Beaune 1er Cru Clos de Guettes were particularly good. We were drinking 2002 and 2005 Chorey and 2003 and 2005 Savigny. Again, the difference was striking. In comparison, the 2002 and '03 seem almost finished. We also tried an Aloxe-Corton 2002 that had promise and even though the Chef Cousin said no, I think it would improve with time. It maybe noted here that most producers work with one or the other of the wines of Bugundy - either the feminine or the masculine, rarely both, and Dubois is no exception.
2005 is the perfect year in Burgundy. A mythic one like this does not come around often. When it does it is characterized by the balance of fruit, acid, sugar and tannin from the beginning. Naturally, the growing season has to be perfect – not too much rain or sun, or heat or cold – and the harvest cannot be too large (because as we all remember, right, dear Audience, the production amounts are limited by law for Grand and Premier Cru and smaller harvest yields mean more concentrated juice). An interesting effect of the legal limitations to production is that excess juice from Grand and Premier Cru grapes is not wasted, but is allowed to ‘trickle down’ (forgive the pun) into village appellations and even Bourgogne Blanc and Pinots, improving the quality of all wine produced that year.
After our little drinking spell at the Dubois stand, we headed across the exposition floor in search of sandwiches, not, as you might imagine, stale white bread with iceberg lettuce and meat product sandwiches, but fresh pate and cheeses on baguette. Mmmm, even le sandwich has been improved by the French Touch! We did eat standing, so not French, and wandered around this section ogling the produits de terroir for sale here – much honey and jam – as well as the wine accoutrement available – wine glasses, wine refrigerators, wine cellars, and wine insurance! The latter seemed silly until I realized that spending a upwards of 100 euros per bottle adds up quickly in a several thousand bottle cellar, not to mention that replacement costs are always higher than when purchased young.
We plunged back in to the fray, tasting at numerous stands, some good, some not, some memorable, some not. Sadly, some were memorable for the disappointment. I wanted to try some Rully and found large producer. The young men pouring were certainly charmingly louche but the wine did not match their attractiveness. For the same price, I much preferred the Petit Chablis at Moreau. A positive standout was the Beaune 1er Cru from Domaine Arnoux. Another supplier of the Chef Cousin, Arnoux also had several wines that I found far too tanic. We also tried several reds from Domaine Taupenot-Merme that were delicious, including a Corton Rognet Grand Cru that was wonderful even so young; however, the price was not so 'wonderful' so my bottle stayed at the Salon.
This Salon had wine from all parts of France. Although we concentrated on the Burgundy, we did spend time at two other of the Chef Cousin's suppliers - Domaine des Sanzay from Saumur in the Loire Valley and Domaine de Sainte Anne from Brissac-Quince (of course, everyone knows that is western France, near Anjou). I have tasted many of Sanzay's wines, grace of the Chef Cousin, but they also make several sparkling wines, Méthode Traditionnelle, as they say, which for the price need to be imported immediately into America. One, a Brut 400, was superior to many average Champagnes and greatly cheaper. They also make a sparkling red - one glass is amusing, not more!
The Domaine de Sainte Anne also produces some real suprises. Anjou red is a gamay grape wine that is normally drunk very young. This domain has begun to age some of their wine produced from certain parcelles in oak barrels and after tasting some 2000 and 2005, I was stunned. Rich, complex, well structured wines with great color and beautiful noses for a price that one buys a rosé wine in New York. I must find room for a few of these in the cellar.
Time to leave, time to go home, the guards are circling, but we are still hanging over Sanzay's stand finishing all the open bottles. Thankfully I took notes on the tastings, because I cannot remember how we got home.
Go and imbibe!!
Monday, December 17, 2007
Another Weekend, Another Salon des Vins, Part One
I must warn you dear Audience, that chronological order has been disturbed. I wrote this piece on the plane for Chicago but posted my ruminations on Chicago prior to finishing this one.
So it is the last weekend of November, and yes, le planning for the weekend is wine, but before Sunday at Porte de Versailles for the Salon, we had to have the Prince Consort’s birthday dinner en famille. Normally not too gruesome and with better than edible food, this evening proved to be no exception. Dinner was a blanquette de veau, particularly tender and the sauce was very light and delectable. Served with it was a 2002 Irancy that, combined with the blanquette, created one of those ethereal dining moments when everything just comes together. All I could taste, hear or see was my plate, my fork and the wine. Beyond that all was grey as if it had been dipped into the blanquette sauce.
Irancy is a thin elegant Burgundy that is one of the few red wines from that region which can be made from grapes other than the Pinot Noir. I must admit that I do not know if this particular bottle contained more than Pinot, but I would hazard that it did not from the taste. The village of Irancy is northwest of Beaune, near Chablis, and these wines have a higher degree of minerality than many red Burgundies. I find Irancy to be particularly good, but you, dear Audience, will remember that I enjoy greatly these thinner, feminine Burgundies. Here though, I must note here that the ‘femininity’ of Irancy is not that of the Chambolle or Volnay. There is none of the feeling of great power sheathed in a velvet glove as with those. No, I find simply a finesse or, well yes, an elegance that sets Irancy in a class with Fixin and only one or two other Burgundies.
The evening ran late and we struggled to wake up on Sunday in order to join the Chef Cousin at the convention center at Porte de Versailles for the 29e Salon des Vins des Vignerons Indépendants, or the Twenty-ninth Wines of Independent Winemakers Salon. The Paris Expo Center - Porte de Versailles is enormous with numerous buildings and wide avenues. It makes NYC’s Javits Center look like a Smerf house. The Chef Cousin had already spent Saturday there and had agreed to return primarily to accompany us around. Avid readers will remember that the previous weekend’s Salon had taken place on two peniches in the Seine. That gathering was child’s play by comparison to today’s expo. The listing of the weekend's participants filled a Zagat-sized book. There were rows and rows, and each row contained more than 40 booths on each side of the aisle.
In addition to tasting wine from the Chef Cousin’s suppliers, I had one or two names that I had picked up from the time I spend glued to the French wine auction sites. In particular, I was intrigued to try a Chablis producer whose late ‘90s Premier Cru I had watched sell recently, not cheaply but fairly priced. Armed with the map of the Salon and a list of names, we headed of to taste white wine first. The Chablis producer was our first stop. By the name of Moreau Naudet, they have a reasonable sized production including a Petit Chablis, two different Chablis villages, four Premier Cru named for their parcelles - Vaillons, Montmains, Forets, and Montee de Tonnerre, and a Grand Cru "Valmur." We tasted 2004 and 2005, but by the second day of a well-attended Salon, there remained only one or two of their wines to try. This is no great surprise because we all know now that 2005 is one of those mythic, perfect years that everyone must taste, if not also own. The Petit Chablis 2005 was a nice balance of mineral and tannin; the price to quality ratio was very good. In 1er Cru, we only tasted the Forets which was pleasant if not a bit austere for my taste. I was interested also in the Vaillons, and although there was none to taste, the winemaker described it as fruitier that the Forets. I will watch for their wine to appear again at auction.
From Mordet, we headed to Guillemard Clerc, a husband and wife domain in Puligny-Montrachet. I had recently purchased six bottles of their 1999 Puligny-Montrachet Les Reuchaux but have not had a chance to taste it. I wanted to learn a bit more about them, hopefully to know whether to watch for more of their production at auction. It was a bit shocking to observe how this couple interfaced with the public. Now intime members of the Audience will know that I do not find the French very focused on service and niceties. I can only imagine that French became the language of diplomacy more by default (the sole solid monachy with language that is so flowery that one can speak for hours without saying anything) and less because crisis were resolved. Nevertheless, the Clercs took 'French Service' to a new level; faced with diminished stock thanks to the well-attended Salon, the couple (looking like throw-backs to the ‘80s including her carefully applied heavy blue eye shadow and bleached blonde hair) were simply and obviously lying to wishful ‘tasters’ who did not meet approval following a not-so-subtle up-and-down regard. We had passed muster – something about the Chef Cousin’s boyish demeanor gets him past many guards – and as we stood there tasting a variety of whites and reds, numerous others were turned away with a “No, we have nothing left…” We had the pleasure of tasting several Puligny-Montrachet (one 1er Cru and two Villages), two different Beaune Premier Cru - 2004 and 2005 - and a Clos de Vougeot. The latter is always a Grand Cru and I find it difficult to extrapolate from such a young wine how it will mature over the next ten - fifteen years, but I did appreciate it. Interestingly, the 2004 Beaune seemed almost drinkable. Maybe theirs will not age very well. Drunk next to the 2005; however, the 2004 paled by comparison. It was much less concentrated and missed much of the body already apparent in the 2005.
[more follows]
So it is the last weekend of November, and yes, le planning for the weekend is wine, but before Sunday at Porte de Versailles for the Salon, we had to have the Prince Consort’s birthday dinner en famille. Normally not too gruesome and with better than edible food, this evening proved to be no exception. Dinner was a blanquette de veau, particularly tender and the sauce was very light and delectable. Served with it was a 2002 Irancy that, combined with the blanquette, created one of those ethereal dining moments when everything just comes together. All I could taste, hear or see was my plate, my fork and the wine. Beyond that all was grey as if it had been dipped into the blanquette sauce.
Irancy is a thin elegant Burgundy that is one of the few red wines from that region which can be made from grapes other than the Pinot Noir. I must admit that I do not know if this particular bottle contained more than Pinot, but I would hazard that it did not from the taste. The village of Irancy is northwest of Beaune, near Chablis, and these wines have a higher degree of minerality than many red Burgundies. I find Irancy to be particularly good, but you, dear Audience, will remember that I enjoy greatly these thinner, feminine Burgundies. Here though, I must note here that the ‘femininity’ of Irancy is not that of the Chambolle or Volnay. There is none of the feeling of great power sheathed in a velvet glove as with those. No, I find simply a finesse or, well yes, an elegance that sets Irancy in a class with Fixin and only one or two other Burgundies.
The evening ran late and we struggled to wake up on Sunday in order to join the Chef Cousin at the convention center at Porte de Versailles for the 29e Salon des Vins des Vignerons Indépendants, or the Twenty-ninth Wines of Independent Winemakers Salon. The Paris Expo Center - Porte de Versailles is enormous with numerous buildings and wide avenues. It makes NYC’s Javits Center look like a Smerf house. The Chef Cousin had already spent Saturday there and had agreed to return primarily to accompany us around. Avid readers will remember that the previous weekend’s Salon had taken place on two peniches in the Seine. That gathering was child’s play by comparison to today’s expo. The listing of the weekend's participants filled a Zagat-sized book. There were rows and rows, and each row contained more than 40 booths on each side of the aisle.
In addition to tasting wine from the Chef Cousin’s suppliers, I had one or two names that I had picked up from the time I spend glued to the French wine auction sites. In particular, I was intrigued to try a Chablis producer whose late ‘90s Premier Cru I had watched sell recently, not cheaply but fairly priced. Armed with the map of the Salon and a list of names, we headed of to taste white wine first. The Chablis producer was our first stop. By the name of Moreau Naudet, they have a reasonable sized production including a Petit Chablis, two different Chablis villages, four Premier Cru named for their parcelles - Vaillons, Montmains, Forets, and Montee de Tonnerre, and a Grand Cru "Valmur." We tasted 2004 and 2005, but by the second day of a well-attended Salon, there remained only one or two of their wines to try. This is no great surprise because we all know now that 2005 is one of those mythic, perfect years that everyone must taste, if not also own. The Petit Chablis 2005 was a nice balance of mineral and tannin; the price to quality ratio was very good. In 1er Cru, we only tasted the Forets which was pleasant if not a bit austere for my taste. I was interested also in the Vaillons, and although there was none to taste, the winemaker described it as fruitier that the Forets. I will watch for their wine to appear again at auction.
From Mordet, we headed to Guillemard Clerc, a husband and wife domain in Puligny-Montrachet. I had recently purchased six bottles of their 1999 Puligny-Montrachet Les Reuchaux but have not had a chance to taste it. I wanted to learn a bit more about them, hopefully to know whether to watch for more of their production at auction. It was a bit shocking to observe how this couple interfaced with the public. Now intime members of the Audience will know that I do not find the French very focused on service and niceties. I can only imagine that French became the language of diplomacy more by default (the sole solid monachy with language that is so flowery that one can speak for hours without saying anything) and less because crisis were resolved. Nevertheless, the Clercs took 'French Service' to a new level; faced with diminished stock thanks to the well-attended Salon, the couple (looking like throw-backs to the ‘80s including her carefully applied heavy blue eye shadow and bleached blonde hair) were simply and obviously lying to wishful ‘tasters’ who did not meet approval following a not-so-subtle up-and-down regard. We had passed muster – something about the Chef Cousin’s boyish demeanor gets him past many guards – and as we stood there tasting a variety of whites and reds, numerous others were turned away with a “No, we have nothing left…” We had the pleasure of tasting several Puligny-Montrachet (one 1er Cru and two Villages), two different Beaune Premier Cru - 2004 and 2005 - and a Clos de Vougeot. The latter is always a Grand Cru and I find it difficult to extrapolate from such a young wine how it will mature over the next ten - fifteen years, but I did appreciate it. Interestingly, the 2004 Beaune seemed almost drinkable. Maybe theirs will not age very well. Drunk next to the 2005; however, the 2004 paled by comparison. It was much less concentrated and missed much of the body already apparent in the 2005.
[more follows]
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Lunch in Chicago
I had lunch in Chicago. Just lunch, it was too cold to do anything else. I arrived in mid morning and left at the end of the afternoon. There were good reasons to do the trip but that is not what this little diatribe is about. Let us just stick to the important stuff.
Chicago, what a pathetic town. It starts with their "Blue Line Slow Elimination Project." Some silly ongoing effort to end those meaningless slowdowns on the train to and from O'Hare Airport and it continues with an artless cityscape. Honestly, have you ever seen such an ugly city? Smack in the center of town there are open, above-ground parking lots! Nasty. You'd think with that big fire they had a chance, but no. And now, every other corner is a construction project. I think it will take 30 years or more before it improves - 15 years to build on all those nasty parking lots and another 15 to rebuild on all those pathetic one story buildings. It will be ready for your grandchildren!
Naha is where I dined for lunch. I wanted to eat at Charlie Trotter's, I have wanted to eat there for years. This summer on vacation there just wasn't time and this trip, no luck. They never, never serve lunch. A very kind reservationist recommended Naha; apparently it is one of Charlie's "favorites." It's not bad. The 'view' was sad, as was the decor. When did minimal become triste? No flowers, no candles, no shades, no drapes. Just a view on a construction site... for $200 I want more.
With some effort on my part during the ordering process they became more attentive, but it does not seem to be the norm. That much was obvious. Not that they were rude, it is just that there is a lack of polish and attention to detail, and not just at Naha but in Chicago as a whole. I noticed it this summer in restaurants, at the W Hotel, and other places. Maybe it is a Midwestern thing, or maybe I am just spoiled. Anyway, I sat down and ordered a nice Domaine William Fèvre Chablis to warm up (Chicago is cooooold). Naha had a decent wine list including quite a few good whites and reds by the glass. Strangely, there was not much listed about the wine. For example, I don't know if I drank a Chablis, a Chablis 1er Cru or a Chablis Grand Cru. Okay, I lie, for the price - $14 per glass 2004 - I was not drinking a Grand Cru. But for that price, in that type of restaurant, they should have brought the bottle to the table to pour the glass of wine.
For my first course I had an organic risotto with chorizo and tomato sauce. It was very nice. The grains of rice were not over cooked and the tomato sauce coated everything lightly; the chorizo perfumed without overwhelming. I had asked the waiter for advice on the wines by the glass, using my usual comment, "I live half time in Paris and would like to try something different." He asked the managing partner, apparently, who suggested for this course a Quinta dos Roques Encruzado, 2004, a white from Portugal. It was full bodied and appropriate for the risotto. At first taste, I would have guessed that it was a white Graves of a certain age.
My next course was a roasted beet salad with red and golden beets, 'deconstructed' and sprinkled with a delicious American blue cheese (not Maytag) and balsamic vinegar with a side of very lightly dressed arugula. The wine to accompany this course was a Domaine Sigales Assyrtiko, 2006, white wine from Greece. The owners, two cousins - one chefing, one managing - are Armenian Greeks. This wine was a revelation for me. Complex, beautifully colored (with a tint of green), lots of structure. No hint of Retsina!!
My main course was 'Rillettes' of duck confit with caramalized quince and grilled fennel and walnuts. The duck confit had been pulled off the bone and placed in a ramekin with a bit of jus. It was served with toast on which to eat the 'rillettes.' Certainly no fat to create 'rillettes,' more like deconstructed confit, perhaps?? It was favorful but presented in that form without reason. To drink, I was served a glass of the restaurant's private label Shiraz. I can see more and more why people pay for French wine. This wine was far less than stellar - tanic, sharp and unpleasant - why would you put your name on it? That comment, made to the waiter, but with a smile, created a small stir.
So the director of private parties, as she had introduced herself earlier, comes to the table with multiple glasses and 2 new wines - another private label (Pinot Noir from CA) and a Côtes du Ventoux. Now, frankly, the Côtes had more flavor but that wine is basically swill, or as the French would call it, "vin de table." I think the Prince Consort would call for annulment if I put a Côtes du Ventoux on the table with company, so I took the private label. It was not the nicest Californa Pinot I've had but not the worst either. In the glass, it opened a bit, but I don't think it could have gone the other direction.
For dessert I had a fruit strudel with a tiny panne cotta of the same blue cheese that I had enjoyed in my beet salad. Thank god for the tannins in that private label Pinot. They were able to cut through that gelatinous cheese-cotta. I needed chocolate (like hole in the head) so I followed with a chocolate 'brick' (my emphasis not theirs) topped with a quenelle of espresso ice cream and a frangelico foam. I ordered it for the foam - oops, not much there; plenty of foam, just no much flavor. This I accompanied with a Hungarian Tokay. It was intriguing to find two different Tokay from Hungary on their list. One was a '99 and one an '03 (I believe). My choice was perfect with the chocolate - sweet, dessert, good - but $20 good? I don't think so.
The meal was $200 with tax and tip - excessive in my book for the whole picture. I believe in the theatre of dining and this was too minimal for me without the lux that is needed to balance. Silverware was okay - a strange farmhouse sort that was pitted like pewter, the dishes were 'been-there-done-that,' glassware serviceable, white tablecloths a little too thin. A return to my "Chicago is ugly and they pay no attention to detail" mantra.
Then the train back to the airport. The track runs down the middle of some 6+ lane interstate with boring scenery filled with too many churches. It could be New Jersey - ugly - and the people riding are sad.
I am spoiled living in Paris and NYC, but that is why I do....
Later!
Chicago, what a pathetic town. It starts with their "Blue Line Slow Elimination Project." Some silly ongoing effort to end those meaningless slowdowns on the train to and from O'Hare Airport and it continues with an artless cityscape. Honestly, have you ever seen such an ugly city? Smack in the center of town there are open, above-ground parking lots! Nasty. You'd think with that big fire they had a chance, but no. And now, every other corner is a construction project. I think it will take 30 years or more before it improves - 15 years to build on all those nasty parking lots and another 15 to rebuild on all those pathetic one story buildings. It will be ready for your grandchildren!
Naha is where I dined for lunch. I wanted to eat at Charlie Trotter's, I have wanted to eat there for years. This summer on vacation there just wasn't time and this trip, no luck. They never, never serve lunch. A very kind reservationist recommended Naha; apparently it is one of Charlie's "favorites." It's not bad. The 'view' was sad, as was the decor. When did minimal become triste? No flowers, no candles, no shades, no drapes. Just a view on a construction site... for $200 I want more.
With some effort on my part during the ordering process they became more attentive, but it does not seem to be the norm. That much was obvious. Not that they were rude, it is just that there is a lack of polish and attention to detail, and not just at Naha but in Chicago as a whole. I noticed it this summer in restaurants, at the W Hotel, and other places. Maybe it is a Midwestern thing, or maybe I am just spoiled. Anyway, I sat down and ordered a nice Domaine William Fèvre Chablis to warm up (Chicago is cooooold). Naha had a decent wine list including quite a few good whites and reds by the glass. Strangely, there was not much listed about the wine. For example, I don't know if I drank a Chablis, a Chablis 1er Cru or a Chablis Grand Cru. Okay, I lie, for the price - $14 per glass 2004 - I was not drinking a Grand Cru. But for that price, in that type of restaurant, they should have brought the bottle to the table to pour the glass of wine.
For my first course I had an organic risotto with chorizo and tomato sauce. It was very nice. The grains of rice were not over cooked and the tomato sauce coated everything lightly; the chorizo perfumed without overwhelming. I had asked the waiter for advice on the wines by the glass, using my usual comment, "I live half time in Paris and would like to try something different." He asked the managing partner, apparently, who suggested for this course a Quinta dos Roques Encruzado, 2004, a white from Portugal. It was full bodied and appropriate for the risotto. At first taste, I would have guessed that it was a white Graves of a certain age.
My next course was a roasted beet salad with red and golden beets, 'deconstructed' and sprinkled with a delicious American blue cheese (not Maytag) and balsamic vinegar with a side of very lightly dressed arugula. The wine to accompany this course was a Domaine Sigales Assyrtiko, 2006, white wine from Greece. The owners, two cousins - one chefing, one managing - are Armenian Greeks. This wine was a revelation for me. Complex, beautifully colored (with a tint of green), lots of structure. No hint of Retsina!!
My main course was 'Rillettes' of duck confit with caramalized quince and grilled fennel and walnuts. The duck confit had been pulled off the bone and placed in a ramekin with a bit of jus. It was served with toast on which to eat the 'rillettes.' Certainly no fat to create 'rillettes,' more like deconstructed confit, perhaps?? It was favorful but presented in that form without reason. To drink, I was served a glass of the restaurant's private label Shiraz. I can see more and more why people pay for French wine. This wine was far less than stellar - tanic, sharp and unpleasant - why would you put your name on it? That comment, made to the waiter, but with a smile, created a small stir.
So the director of private parties, as she had introduced herself earlier, comes to the table with multiple glasses and 2 new wines - another private label (Pinot Noir from CA) and a Côtes du Ventoux. Now, frankly, the Côtes had more flavor but that wine is basically swill, or as the French would call it, "vin de table." I think the Prince Consort would call for annulment if I put a Côtes du Ventoux on the table with company, so I took the private label. It was not the nicest Californa Pinot I've had but not the worst either. In the glass, it opened a bit, but I don't think it could have gone the other direction.
For dessert I had a fruit strudel with a tiny panne cotta of the same blue cheese that I had enjoyed in my beet salad. Thank god for the tannins in that private label Pinot. They were able to cut through that gelatinous cheese-cotta. I needed chocolate (like hole in the head) so I followed with a chocolate 'brick' (my emphasis not theirs) topped with a quenelle of espresso ice cream and a frangelico foam. I ordered it for the foam - oops, not much there; plenty of foam, just no much flavor. This I accompanied with a Hungarian Tokay. It was intriguing to find two different Tokay from Hungary on their list. One was a '99 and one an '03 (I believe). My choice was perfect with the chocolate - sweet, dessert, good - but $20 good? I don't think so.
The meal was $200 with tax and tip - excessive in my book for the whole picture. I believe in the theatre of dining and this was too minimal for me without the lux that is needed to balance. Silverware was okay - a strange farmhouse sort that was pitted like pewter, the dishes were 'been-there-done-that,' glassware serviceable, white tablecloths a little too thin. A return to my "Chicago is ugly and they pay no attention to detail" mantra.
Then the train back to the airport. The track runs down the middle of some 6+ lane interstate with boring scenery filled with too many churches. It could be New Jersey - ugly - and the people riding are sad.
I am spoiled living in Paris and NYC, but that is why I do....
Later!
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Bordeaux
In my last post I spoke about a Bordeaux, an Haut-Medoc, Cru Bourgeois, Chateau Tourteran 1999. I do not know what I will do when the grocery store finishes its stock, although I have been drinking it for more than a year now. Maybe they are ‘brewing’ it in the back, it may be counterfeit! Sounds nutty but apparently it is a real problem with great wines of a certain age; however, I don’t really think this is the case with this. I do have to let it breathe before serving it and the longer, the better. Sometimes I say that it is better the second day, like a big stew. I just read that it is the ‘second wine’ of a certain Château Ramage la Batisse, a Cru Bourgeois Supérieur, purchased by Macif, a large French insurance company, in 1986. Both chateaux use traditional methods in their winemaking and are respected for their Haut-Médoc.
Bordeaux classifications are not the same as Burgundy’s Villages, Premier Cru and Grand Cru. The Cru Bourgeois label on this Haut-Medoc places it under a long list of Grand Crus. In the Grand Crus alone, there are several levels of the Grands Crus Classés – Premier, Deuxième, Troisième, Quatrième, and Cinquiéme (also know as First Growths, Second Growths, etc.). These classifications were primarily established in 1855 to classify quality in Bordeaux. With the Cru Bourgeois classification, there are Cru Bourgeois Exceptionnel, Cru Bourgeois Supérieur, and Cru Bourgeois.
All but one of the wines in the Premier Grands Crus Classés list is from Haut Médoc and that one was a Graves that has been reclassified as a Pessac-Leognan to account for soil structure changes caused by urbanization around Bordeaux. That is quite a comment on the importance of terroir in the wine. At the same time as this 1855 list, the Bordeaux sweet wines were classified as well with nine classified as Premier Cru (First Growth), eleven as Deuxième Cru and Château d’Yequem granted Premier Cru Supérieur classification.
Graves, Saint-Emilion and Pomerol were not listed in the 1855 classification and the two first felt their sales suffered. Pomerol remains unclassified but produces very expensive wines - Petrus, for example. Since the original classification, Graves has created its own classification as has Saint-Emilion. However, unlike the Bordeaux Grands Crus and Graves lists, the Saint-Emilion list changes each ten years based on recent assessments of quality. Saint-Emilion classifications are slightly different from the 1855 Bordeaux listings. There are currently fifteen Premier Crus divided between Premier Grand Crus Classés A (2 wines) and Premier Grand Crus Classés B (13 wines). Furthermore, there are another group of Saint-Emilions classified as Grands Crus Classés that fall under the Premier Cru.
Makes my head spin, but I thought you would like to know!
Bordeaux classifications are not the same as Burgundy’s Villages, Premier Cru and Grand Cru. The Cru Bourgeois label on this Haut-Medoc places it under a long list of Grand Crus. In the Grand Crus alone, there are several levels of the Grands Crus Classés – Premier, Deuxième, Troisième, Quatrième, and Cinquiéme (also know as First Growths, Second Growths, etc.). These classifications were primarily established in 1855 to classify quality in Bordeaux. With the Cru Bourgeois classification, there are Cru Bourgeois Exceptionnel, Cru Bourgeois Supérieur, and Cru Bourgeois.
All but one of the wines in the Premier Grands Crus Classés list is from Haut Médoc and that one was a Graves that has been reclassified as a Pessac-Leognan to account for soil structure changes caused by urbanization around Bordeaux. That is quite a comment on the importance of terroir in the wine. At the same time as this 1855 list, the Bordeaux sweet wines were classified as well with nine classified as Premier Cru (First Growth), eleven as Deuxième Cru and Château d’Yequem granted Premier Cru Supérieur classification.
Graves, Saint-Emilion and Pomerol were not listed in the 1855 classification and the two first felt their sales suffered. Pomerol remains unclassified but produces very expensive wines - Petrus, for example. Since the original classification, Graves has created its own classification as has Saint-Emilion. However, unlike the Bordeaux Grands Crus and Graves lists, the Saint-Emilion list changes each ten years based on recent assessments of quality. Saint-Emilion classifications are slightly different from the 1855 Bordeaux listings. There are currently fifteen Premier Crus divided between Premier Grand Crus Classés A (2 wines) and Premier Grand Crus Classés B (13 wines). Furthermore, there are another group of Saint-Emilions classified as Grands Crus Classés that fall under the Premier Cru.
Makes my head spin, but I thought you would like to know!
Birthday Dinner
So it is presque Thanksgiving, the Prince Consort celebrated a birthday this week, and it fell on the weekly Gathering Day for the Entourage. Because the PC and I were have one of those lingering non-verbal disputes – “Qu'est ce que tu veux à boire, à manger, à …?” “Je ne sais pas. Et toi?” “Rien, merci.” – for three days, I had done little planning for some sort of celebration. At auction I had purchased a Jeroboam of Chablis, La Chablisienne, Vieilles Vignes 1998. Now a Jeroboam is an oversized bottle most often seen not in wine bottling but in Champagne. It is equal to three standard sized bottles, and like all of these large bottles, except the Magnum, it is named for an Old Testament king. La Chablisienne is not a négociant but more of a collective or association of small growers in Chablis that produces and bottles wine for the vineyards in that region. Those in the Audience who have been paying attention will remember that Vieilles Vignes (Old Vines) are important because they produce more desirable grapes – more concentrated juice, fewer grapes per bunch – and, significantly, wine ages more slowly in a greater volume. Therefore, a demi-bottle will age twice as fast as a normal bottle and a magnum half as fast as the standard. Does that mean a Jeroboam will age three times slower?
It remains to be seen because, although I had purchased this Chablis, I had neglected to collect it from the auction house. However, I had also purchased at another auction, a magnum of Pernand Vergelesses 2003, a beautiful white wine from that very unusual year, 2003. I jammed that in the refrigerator on the morning of the birthday and set down to send out some email invitations to the Entourage. Typically, I sent them all to old addresses (now, the French have advanced by leaps and bounds in the recent years from a level when one would send email to French contacts, then telephone to tell them to read their email – that was in 2002; however, today they still are internet neophytes compared to most Americans and they change email addresses willy-nilly without notification), so the PC, whom I had included in the email invitation list since we were being lingeringly non-verbal, re-emailed everyone at the correct address. I also invited His Nibs to have a bilingual speaker and an ally.
His Nibs accepted the invitation and offered to cook. What luck; I set a lovely table and plan great menus but am not the best chef in my circles. Afternoon arrived, HN and I went shopping, and few if any of the Entourage r.s.v.p.’ed. The biggest problem was Paris and France were in the grip of a massive transit strike. Doesn’t that seem like a misnomer or some sort of extended oxymoron? A strike, particularly a transit strike, never seems to ‘hold’ one, certainly not ‘grip’ one; if anything, it seems to let one 'lie,' or worse ‘drop’ one. Anyway, we ended up five for dinner. The menu was to be simple, better to taste wine and easy on a weeknight. Small nibbles for cocktails including rillettes of two salmon (smoked and fresh) and of crab with lime. The first course was to be soup of watercress with crab and asparagus, followed by grilled pork chops with a ‘risotto’ of quinoa, and afterwards cheese and salad, then cake and coffee.
Dinner preparation was only three-quarters finished when His Nibs became too ill to finish. I had to drive him home, race back and finish dinner. This also meant that as four for dinner, the magnum was too big, in the opinion of the Prince Consort. We had a chilled white Chassagne-Montrachet, Les Meix Goudard, Domaine Bouzereau-Benay 2004 that the PC had purchased for 20 Euros recently in one of the French versions of Wal-Mart, Auchan, so we opened that. It was lovely. I can imagine that with more time it would improve but not by much. It had a full nose that developed as the wine warmed up, filled with florals that when in the mouth mixed with a musky minerality. The soup was lovely and did the wine justice; it was also incredibly easy to make – watch for it on future menus!
Pork chops were grilled out on the barbeque and the risotto was ready. I love grilled meats and if I lived with a barbeque where it did not rain all the time, I’d cook on it all winter. Anyway, this night was clear and the chops were perfect with lots of fresh herbs roasted on them. The risotto was another story. I am not a ‘grain and seed’ sort of person and quinoa falls dangerously close to barley which I also do not appreciate. Tonight it was done with broth and tiny brunoise of carrots, so it was pretty and not dry but I’d rather have the A-Girl’s risotto, frankly. To wash this course down I had planned a Gevery- Chambertin 1er Cru, Petite Chapelle, 2003 by Domaine Desserey. Desserey is an éleveur, a grape grower, not a négociant who buys other éleveurs grapes, from the village of Gevery. This wine was, again, from the year of the canicule – 2003, and I had hope for some fireworks. I even carafed it before serving.
Now, on the subject of carafing, there are many opinions, typically, as with all truly significant subjects. Some say Burgundies are too fragile to carafe, others will say that they need to be carafed to appreciate, and others will council carafing but not in the Bordeaux sense of carafing – not for hours in advance of serving. I fall into the last camp and finally bought a traditional carafe with the very wide bottom that exposes the greatest surface of wine to the air. The nifty thing I also got is an aerator. It is rather a funnel with the point at the bottom where the wine would exit closed. Along the sides of the pipette there are small holes that spray the wine onto the neck of the carafe providing more aeration in a shorter time. It’s BRILLIANT!
All that preparation and the Gevery was delicate, thin and elegant… but that is not what a Gevery is at all! And this, a Premier Cru from a producer, not a négociant, it had all the potential to be great. While drinking it, although, I liked it. Despite its delicateness, it stood up to the grilled pork, the color was lovely if not a bit pale for a Gevery, and the nose was good. It was not until the next wine that I truly noted the difference. We had finished the main course, and although the bottle was not empty, there was not enough to go around. I had more of the same, but decided that it was not hearty enough for cheese.
At first I thought to serve my old standard – a Bordeaux, Haut-Medoc, Cru Bourgeois, Chateau Tourteran 1999. I’m not a huge Bordeaux fan but this one is dependable, rich, and very fairly priced in my neighborhood supermarket. I keep stocked as the ‘Company at Home Red Wine’ and often serve it with the cheese course. However, this night I decided to take a different route and play a guessing game at the same time. I opened another bottle of Gevery, a village, Gevery-Chambertin, 1999 from Domaine Henri Rebourseau to taste against the first Gevery.
Now Rebourseau is a great domain, one of the Chef Cousin’s favorites. I’ve visited it a couple of times and have a special affinity for it and the owner. He is the grandson of the General Henri Rebourseau who founded the domain. He is also the one who always says “Wine is a living thing and must be treated as such.” And it is he who told me that his casks in the cave where young wines age before bottling leak when there is a full moon and then reseal with the waning moon. He decided that foolish wine buyers were drinking his wines too young and wasting their potential, so he restricts who can buy them and where they are sold. Then he limits how much of a millesime is sold when it is first bottled and actually caves much of it. From his aged stock he sells to favored buyers (read: Chef Cousin) and it is from this source that I bought three bottles of the 1999 Gevery. Rebourseau also makes a Gevery 1er Cru, a Charmes-Chambertin, a Mazis-Chambertin, a Clos de Vougeot, and a Chambertin. The last four are all Grand Crus! Maybe the General knew what he was doing when he assembled this domain from various vineyards owned by his father, all around a beautiful 18th century house.
So, with this sort of history, you, cher Audience, can imagine that Rebourseau’s Gevery is a glass of wine that makes you take notice. I poured it from the bottle, no carafe, and asked who could identify it. First guess was a Bordeaux (a bit naïve considering the form of the bottle) but no one could imagine it was the same wine we had been drinking. The color was a deep ruby, the nose was full with ripe red fruits and an undercoating of the muskiness so appreciated in great Burgundies. In the mouth, there was more of the same with a deeper, fatter quality to the aromas. The muskiness took on a warm spiciness and the flavor lingered after you swallowed. Delightful! It was interesting to note how Rebourseau brings to his village appellation some of the same qualities that are expressed in the Grand Crus. What a great winemaker.
Interestingly, the Prince Consort appreciated the 1999 Gevery but preferred the 2003. He and I share an appreciation of the finesse and elegance found in many red Burgundies but I think that I prefer my Gevery’s to be bigger and bolder. I also had another taste of the white Chassagne-Montrachet that had started the meal. By now it was at room temperature and full of flavors that were less obvious in the wine when it was cold. A sharp toasty minerality balanced well with warmer honey tones. I could have drunk it with the cheese, actually.
Dinner closed with a lovely 3-chocolate cake, yummy, several layers and beautifully decorated with shavings, tulles, and a macarron. Coffee and collapse; tomorrow was Thanksgiving!
It remains to be seen because, although I had purchased this Chablis, I had neglected to collect it from the auction house. However, I had also purchased at another auction, a magnum of Pernand Vergelesses 2003, a beautiful white wine from that very unusual year, 2003. I jammed that in the refrigerator on the morning of the birthday and set down to send out some email invitations to the Entourage. Typically, I sent them all to old addresses (now, the French have advanced by leaps and bounds in the recent years from a level when one would send email to French contacts, then telephone to tell them to read their email – that was in 2002; however, today they still are internet neophytes compared to most Americans and they change email addresses willy-nilly without notification), so the PC, whom I had included in the email invitation list since we were being lingeringly non-verbal, re-emailed everyone at the correct address. I also invited His Nibs to have a bilingual speaker and an ally.
His Nibs accepted the invitation and offered to cook. What luck; I set a lovely table and plan great menus but am not the best chef in my circles. Afternoon arrived, HN and I went shopping, and few if any of the Entourage r.s.v.p.’ed. The biggest problem was Paris and France were in the grip of a massive transit strike. Doesn’t that seem like a misnomer or some sort of extended oxymoron? A strike, particularly a transit strike, never seems to ‘hold’ one, certainly not ‘grip’ one; if anything, it seems to let one 'lie,' or worse ‘drop’ one. Anyway, we ended up five for dinner. The menu was to be simple, better to taste wine and easy on a weeknight. Small nibbles for cocktails including rillettes of two salmon (smoked and fresh) and of crab with lime. The first course was to be soup of watercress with crab and asparagus, followed by grilled pork chops with a ‘risotto’ of quinoa, and afterwards cheese and salad, then cake and coffee.
Dinner preparation was only three-quarters finished when His Nibs became too ill to finish. I had to drive him home, race back and finish dinner. This also meant that as four for dinner, the magnum was too big, in the opinion of the Prince Consort. We had a chilled white Chassagne-Montrachet, Les Meix Goudard, Domaine Bouzereau-Benay 2004 that the PC had purchased for 20 Euros recently in one of the French versions of Wal-Mart, Auchan, so we opened that. It was lovely. I can imagine that with more time it would improve but not by much. It had a full nose that developed as the wine warmed up, filled with florals that when in the mouth mixed with a musky minerality. The soup was lovely and did the wine justice; it was also incredibly easy to make – watch for it on future menus!
Pork chops were grilled out on the barbeque and the risotto was ready. I love grilled meats and if I lived with a barbeque where it did not rain all the time, I’d cook on it all winter. Anyway, this night was clear and the chops were perfect with lots of fresh herbs roasted on them. The risotto was another story. I am not a ‘grain and seed’ sort of person and quinoa falls dangerously close to barley which I also do not appreciate. Tonight it was done with broth and tiny brunoise of carrots, so it was pretty and not dry but I’d rather have the A-Girl’s risotto, frankly. To wash this course down I had planned a Gevery- Chambertin 1er Cru, Petite Chapelle, 2003 by Domaine Desserey. Desserey is an éleveur, a grape grower, not a négociant who buys other éleveurs grapes, from the village of Gevery. This wine was, again, from the year of the canicule – 2003, and I had hope for some fireworks. I even carafed it before serving.
Now, on the subject of carafing, there are many opinions, typically, as with all truly significant subjects. Some say Burgundies are too fragile to carafe, others will say that they need to be carafed to appreciate, and others will council carafing but not in the Bordeaux sense of carafing – not for hours in advance of serving. I fall into the last camp and finally bought a traditional carafe with the very wide bottom that exposes the greatest surface of wine to the air. The nifty thing I also got is an aerator. It is rather a funnel with the point at the bottom where the wine would exit closed. Along the sides of the pipette there are small holes that spray the wine onto the neck of the carafe providing more aeration in a shorter time. It’s BRILLIANT!
All that preparation and the Gevery was delicate, thin and elegant… but that is not what a Gevery is at all! And this, a Premier Cru from a producer, not a négociant, it had all the potential to be great. While drinking it, although, I liked it. Despite its delicateness, it stood up to the grilled pork, the color was lovely if not a bit pale for a Gevery, and the nose was good. It was not until the next wine that I truly noted the difference. We had finished the main course, and although the bottle was not empty, there was not enough to go around. I had more of the same, but decided that it was not hearty enough for cheese.
At first I thought to serve my old standard – a Bordeaux, Haut-Medoc, Cru Bourgeois, Chateau Tourteran 1999. I’m not a huge Bordeaux fan but this one is dependable, rich, and very fairly priced in my neighborhood supermarket. I keep stocked as the ‘Company at Home Red Wine’ and often serve it with the cheese course. However, this night I decided to take a different route and play a guessing game at the same time. I opened another bottle of Gevery, a village, Gevery-Chambertin, 1999 from Domaine Henri Rebourseau to taste against the first Gevery.
Now Rebourseau is a great domain, one of the Chef Cousin’s favorites. I’ve visited it a couple of times and have a special affinity for it and the owner. He is the grandson of the General Henri Rebourseau who founded the domain. He is also the one who always says “Wine is a living thing and must be treated as such.” And it is he who told me that his casks in the cave where young wines age before bottling leak when there is a full moon and then reseal with the waning moon. He decided that foolish wine buyers were drinking his wines too young and wasting their potential, so he restricts who can buy them and where they are sold. Then he limits how much of a millesime is sold when it is first bottled and actually caves much of it. From his aged stock he sells to favored buyers (read: Chef Cousin) and it is from this source that I bought three bottles of the 1999 Gevery. Rebourseau also makes a Gevery 1er Cru, a Charmes-Chambertin, a Mazis-Chambertin, a Clos de Vougeot, and a Chambertin. The last four are all Grand Crus! Maybe the General knew what he was doing when he assembled this domain from various vineyards owned by his father, all around a beautiful 18th century house.
So, with this sort of history, you, cher Audience, can imagine that Rebourseau’s Gevery is a glass of wine that makes you take notice. I poured it from the bottle, no carafe, and asked who could identify it. First guess was a Bordeaux (a bit naïve considering the form of the bottle) but no one could imagine it was the same wine we had been drinking. The color was a deep ruby, the nose was full with ripe red fruits and an undercoating of the muskiness so appreciated in great Burgundies. In the mouth, there was more of the same with a deeper, fatter quality to the aromas. The muskiness took on a warm spiciness and the flavor lingered after you swallowed. Delightful! It was interesting to note how Rebourseau brings to his village appellation some of the same qualities that are expressed in the Grand Crus. What a great winemaker.
Interestingly, the Prince Consort appreciated the 1999 Gevery but preferred the 2003. He and I share an appreciation of the finesse and elegance found in many red Burgundies but I think that I prefer my Gevery’s to be bigger and bolder. I also had another taste of the white Chassagne-Montrachet that had started the meal. By now it was at room temperature and full of flavors that were less obvious in the wine when it was cold. A sharp toasty minerality balanced well with warmer honey tones. I could have drunk it with the cheese, actually.
Dinner closed with a lovely 3-chocolate cake, yummy, several layers and beautifully decorated with shavings, tulles, and a macarron. Coffee and collapse; tomorrow was Thanksgiving!
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Sunday in the Parc
Okay, long delay since the last posting and all of you following this blog breathlessly since its introduction know how much I dislike that. But it has been a busy week, including even today with an attempted coup in the Philippines. Now I am not very political, but I do watch a fair amount of news TV in Paris (and listen to news radio in NYC), and this habit folds one into world politics especially in the morning in Europe when even CNN is broadcast from London. Anyway, to return to the coup and TV coverage, I think in any crisis, any disaster or other “breaking news” scenario, how a broadcaster handles the situation can define the channel for time to come. It seems that this series of events in Manila has the power to redefine Aljazeera’s English channel.
Not only did Aljazeera have two intelligent broadcasters narrating the events, but one of them speaks the language spoken by the dissidents in the hotel and did simultaneous translation during the coverage. Additionally, the channel had camera coverage from inside and outside the hotel, and interviewed by telephone high-ranking Philippine government officials and supporters of the dissidents. Meanwhile, CNN chatted on the telephone with camera-less correspondents on the edge of the security perimeter surrounding the hotel and while the first shots were fired, there were no comments despite viewers hearing the shots behind the conversation. Repeatedly, the CNN correspondent questioned a telephone interviewer on a point that the interviewer had answered while more newsworthy issues went without discussion. Aljazeera has been accused of a pro-Arab, anti-American slant and I certainly have felt that. However, there is much to be gained from intelligent news reporting by newscasters who seem interested and involved in the news they are reporting. The tone of CNN’s reporters, especially once the base of broadcasting has shifted to Atlanta, often appears to be either misunderstanding or jovial disbelief. Perhaps Aljazeera, using so many British English speakers, follows in that old BBC tradition of speaking down to the viewers rather than serving them pabulum.
Enough of my ranting, I’ll close with a small note-to-file: Remember to ask Scooter what a hotel manager does when armed personnel carriers crash into the lobby of a 5-star hotel?
Okay, so now we need to return to important things and what all of you, Audience, have been waiting for – Sunday lunch hosted by the Chef Cousin now 10 days ago. It took place on the last day of the Carrefour du Club des Vignerons Lauréats (the wine expo). Ravaut, one of Chef Cousin’s favorite Burgundian wine producers, offered him a selection of four of their wines and he organized a small meal around them. We were invited, with the Boulanger and his wife, to join the Chef Cousin and La Serveuse at a restaurant in the Parc St. Cloud. This is a large park on the top of a hill to the west of Paris in a posh suburb that was once part of the grounds of a royal château and currently is also the location of the Sevres Museum (second note-to-file: why have I not visited that Museum?).
Although the park has a reputation equal to that of the suburb in which it is located (a member of the Prince Consort's Entourage asked he would be wearing his “vison et tiara”), the restaurant was casual, chalet-style and obviously built to receive summer park strollers with numerous outdoor tables on a terrace looking out over a striking view. We, luckily, were indoors as it was grey and cold, huddled around a warm fire in a corner fireplace. Once we settled at the table, platters of charcuterie, fois gras, butter and bread were served with the first of the wines, all red (the saying goes in France “all good wine wishes to grow up and be red”). It was a Ladoix Clos Royer 1999. Having tasted the 2005 the day before, it was a revelation to taste this wine with some age. I have mentioned before that 2005 is a mythic year, and in the few years like that the grapes produce what can be called perfect wine. Perfect wine is produced when the grape expresses completely the terroir in which it is grown and in Burgundies each parcelle’s distinctive taste can be distinguished in the wine. In such a year, four Ladoix made from four different parcelles taste different. 1999 was not such a remarkable year but a very good one. The tannins found in the younger wines have diminished with age and now balance the fruitiness. It was smooth and lingering in the mouth.
Next was an Aloxe Corton 2003. 2003 was not a mythic year but one of note for the occurrence of that summer’s canicule or massive heat wave. As a result, in addition to tens of thousands of old people dying from the heat, the grapes ripened quickly containing little water and with concentrated juice. The wine produced that year, both red and white, has concentrated flavors, is well balanced between tannic acids and sweet fruit, and, most importantly, can be drunk earlier than normal for the appellation. This Aloxe was no exception. Its nose was rich and complex filled with red fruits. In the mouth, the fruitiness remained with a rich velvety flavor. On a negative note, one complaint of the 2003’s is a lack of nuance and a tendency towards ‘jamminess,’ something most Burgundy producers attempt to avoid.
An Aloxe Corton 1er Cru 1999 followed with our main course. For this, we’d been offered three or four choices, but I had chosen to stay with the serious meat theme and chose their version of Steak Tartare aller-retour. Now, traditionally, aller-retour means the Steak Tartare is mixed with the seasonings, formed into a loose patty and browned quickly on both sides in a hot pan, which seems to me like a very rare hamburger. This version was much more intriguing. Lardons (matchsticks of pork) are sautéed and then the patty of Steak Tartare is browned quickly in the same pan. At the end, a slice of Roquefort cheese is laid over the patty, and it is served with the lardons sprinkled around it!!! Well, the Aloxe 1er Cru performed admirably; its nose was a beautiful mix of florals and red fruit. In the mouth, there were several different experiences of acid and sweetness coupled with the flavor of the fruits.
To close this experience, the fourth bottle was a Corton Bressandes Grand Cru 1995. This is an extraordinary wine as all Grand Crus are intended to be. The subtle differences to the eye, nose and mouth are what separate it from a Burgundy Premier Cru. The color was a deep red-magenta; in place of the scent of florals and red fruits there were violets, ripe blackberries and strawberries and a certain muskiness. In the mouth tastes also were differentiated, and I could taste the different fruits individually balanced with a certain acidity that created a structure like a shelving system on which to place the different tastes. Behind all lingered that muskiness, something that the French call ‘l'animal’ and in English might be described as leather or warm spices. Regardless of the name, it is present in great Burgundies and creates the complex flavors that are sought in the more ‘masculine’ wines from this region.
What a great pleasure this meal was but it had to end with une ballade dans le parc, a freezing walk in the humid cold far from the fire! Horrific and I managed to lose the drooling dog's ball which endeared me to no one. Finally back into the car for a ride back into Paris and collapse into a pleasant doze on the sofa.
Now Audience, go forth and drink!!
Not only did Aljazeera have two intelligent broadcasters narrating the events, but one of them speaks the language spoken by the dissidents in the hotel and did simultaneous translation during the coverage. Additionally, the channel had camera coverage from inside and outside the hotel, and interviewed by telephone high-ranking Philippine government officials and supporters of the dissidents. Meanwhile, CNN chatted on the telephone with camera-less correspondents on the edge of the security perimeter surrounding the hotel and while the first shots were fired, there were no comments despite viewers hearing the shots behind the conversation. Repeatedly, the CNN correspondent questioned a telephone interviewer on a point that the interviewer had answered while more newsworthy issues went without discussion. Aljazeera has been accused of a pro-Arab, anti-American slant and I certainly have felt that. However, there is much to be gained from intelligent news reporting by newscasters who seem interested and involved in the news they are reporting. The tone of CNN’s reporters, especially once the base of broadcasting has shifted to Atlanta, often appears to be either misunderstanding or jovial disbelief. Perhaps Aljazeera, using so many British English speakers, follows in that old BBC tradition of speaking down to the viewers rather than serving them pabulum.
Enough of my ranting, I’ll close with a small note-to-file: Remember to ask Scooter what a hotel manager does when armed personnel carriers crash into the lobby of a 5-star hotel?
Okay, so now we need to return to important things and what all of you, Audience, have been waiting for – Sunday lunch hosted by the Chef Cousin now 10 days ago. It took place on the last day of the Carrefour du Club des Vignerons Lauréats (the wine expo). Ravaut, one of Chef Cousin’s favorite Burgundian wine producers, offered him a selection of four of their wines and he organized a small meal around them. We were invited, with the Boulanger and his wife, to join the Chef Cousin and La Serveuse at a restaurant in the Parc St. Cloud. This is a large park on the top of a hill to the west of Paris in a posh suburb that was once part of the grounds of a royal château and currently is also the location of the Sevres Museum (second note-to-file: why have I not visited that Museum?).
Although the park has a reputation equal to that of the suburb in which it is located (a member of the Prince Consort's Entourage asked he would be wearing his “vison et tiara”), the restaurant was casual, chalet-style and obviously built to receive summer park strollers with numerous outdoor tables on a terrace looking out over a striking view. We, luckily, were indoors as it was grey and cold, huddled around a warm fire in a corner fireplace. Once we settled at the table, platters of charcuterie, fois gras, butter and bread were served with the first of the wines, all red (the saying goes in France “all good wine wishes to grow up and be red”). It was a Ladoix Clos Royer 1999. Having tasted the 2005 the day before, it was a revelation to taste this wine with some age. I have mentioned before that 2005 is a mythic year, and in the few years like that the grapes produce what can be called perfect wine. Perfect wine is produced when the grape expresses completely the terroir in which it is grown and in Burgundies each parcelle’s distinctive taste can be distinguished in the wine. In such a year, four Ladoix made from four different parcelles taste different. 1999 was not such a remarkable year but a very good one. The tannins found in the younger wines have diminished with age and now balance the fruitiness. It was smooth and lingering in the mouth.
Next was an Aloxe Corton 2003. 2003 was not a mythic year but one of note for the occurrence of that summer’s canicule or massive heat wave. As a result, in addition to tens of thousands of old people dying from the heat, the grapes ripened quickly containing little water and with concentrated juice. The wine produced that year, both red and white, has concentrated flavors, is well balanced between tannic acids and sweet fruit, and, most importantly, can be drunk earlier than normal for the appellation. This Aloxe was no exception. Its nose was rich and complex filled with red fruits. In the mouth, the fruitiness remained with a rich velvety flavor. On a negative note, one complaint of the 2003’s is a lack of nuance and a tendency towards ‘jamminess,’ something most Burgundy producers attempt to avoid.
An Aloxe Corton 1er Cru 1999 followed with our main course. For this, we’d been offered three or four choices, but I had chosen to stay with the serious meat theme and chose their version of Steak Tartare aller-retour. Now, traditionally, aller-retour means the Steak Tartare is mixed with the seasonings, formed into a loose patty and browned quickly on both sides in a hot pan, which seems to me like a very rare hamburger. This version was much more intriguing. Lardons (matchsticks of pork) are sautéed and then the patty of Steak Tartare is browned quickly in the same pan. At the end, a slice of Roquefort cheese is laid over the patty, and it is served with the lardons sprinkled around it!!! Well, the Aloxe 1er Cru performed admirably; its nose was a beautiful mix of florals and red fruit. In the mouth, there were several different experiences of acid and sweetness coupled with the flavor of the fruits.
To close this experience, the fourth bottle was a Corton Bressandes Grand Cru 1995. This is an extraordinary wine as all Grand Crus are intended to be. The subtle differences to the eye, nose and mouth are what separate it from a Burgundy Premier Cru. The color was a deep red-magenta; in place of the scent of florals and red fruits there were violets, ripe blackberries and strawberries and a certain muskiness. In the mouth tastes also were differentiated, and I could taste the different fruits individually balanced with a certain acidity that created a structure like a shelving system on which to place the different tastes. Behind all lingered that muskiness, something that the French call ‘l'animal’ and in English might be described as leather or warm spices. Regardless of the name, it is present in great Burgundies and creates the complex flavors that are sought in the more ‘masculine’ wines from this region.
What a great pleasure this meal was but it had to end with une ballade dans le parc, a freezing walk in the humid cold far from the fire! Horrific and I managed to lose the drooling dog's ball which endeared me to no one. Finally back into the car for a ride back into Paris and collapse into a pleasant doze on the sofa.
Now Audience, go forth and drink!!
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Wine Weekend Paris - end of Saturday
After the day on the peniches, at the end of the afternoon, we stumbled home, took a little rest, and then headed out to a dinner at a member of the Prince Consort’s Entourage. I took wine as our hostess gift, since we had boxes and boxes of it in the house and I have grown weary of drinking ‘red stuff’ when I do not mind to bring something reasonable. I brought a 2001 Montagny 1er Cru, a white from the Côte Chalonnaise (south of Beaune, north of Mâcon), which we did not drink even though it would have been great with the first course, but there was Beaujolais Nouveau to drink… not bad this year, but not worth putting it down!! Haa Haa!! I also took a Monthélie, a thin, elegant red wine I love. This was a 1999 by Domaine Henri de Villamont, a known producer who is both an eleveur (a grape grower) and a négociant. The domain is part of a larger group, Schenk, which purchased it in 1964.
I found the Monthélie to be a bit closed. Either it did not have a chance to open or it was still too young. I think the former, because the color in the glass was clear red, bordered by very light reddish-brown and at first opening the nose was very faint, but by the end the tannins were well balanced with the fruit and the aroma was bigger. Another year in the cave could help but why not just pour it in a carafe and drink it (just don’t leave it there too long; it is not a Bordeaux and will die if left for hours in a carafe).
Thankfully, the wine occupied me since dinner did not. Who would think to serve two casseroles - one for the starter and one for the main dish? Neither was bad but can't we have a green veggie once in a while? I should not be so bitchy, it is nice to be invited! LOL; if they knew what I thought, they would never invite me again. At least they had napkins here; some dinners do not. My 'favorite' is when they arrive at the table with a roll of paper towels and proceed to tear one off for each guest. I am always tempted to drop an ice cube in my red wine glass... oh, but that is right, there are no ice cubes at dinners in Paris. The Princess and I have decided that this use of paper towels at table is a sign of the French obsession with playing Marie Antoinette: rather than dressing up in shepherdess' costumes, they pretend not to know how to set a table. It is terribly Bo-Bo (Bourgeois-Bohemian), so branché.
Okay, next posting will detail the Sunday lunch hosted by the Chef Cousin with four great Ravaut wines.
'til then!
I found the Monthélie to be a bit closed. Either it did not have a chance to open or it was still too young. I think the former, because the color in the glass was clear red, bordered by very light reddish-brown and at first opening the nose was very faint, but by the end the tannins were well balanced with the fruit and the aroma was bigger. Another year in the cave could help but why not just pour it in a carafe and drink it (just don’t leave it there too long; it is not a Bordeaux and will die if left for hours in a carafe).
Thankfully, the wine occupied me since dinner did not. Who would think to serve two casseroles - one for the starter and one for the main dish? Neither was bad but can't we have a green veggie once in a while? I should not be so bitchy, it is nice to be invited! LOL; if they knew what I thought, they would never invite me again. At least they had napkins here; some dinners do not. My 'favorite' is when they arrive at the table with a roll of paper towels and proceed to tear one off for each guest. I am always tempted to drop an ice cube in my red wine glass... oh, but that is right, there are no ice cubes at dinners in Paris. The Princess and I have decided that this use of paper towels at table is a sign of the French obsession with playing Marie Antoinette: rather than dressing up in shepherdess' costumes, they pretend not to know how to set a table. It is terribly Bo-Bo (Bourgeois-Bohemian), so branché.
Okay, next posting will detail the Sunday lunch hosted by the Chef Cousin with four great Ravaut wines.
'til then!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Wine Weekend Paris - More Tastings
Paragraphs on Ravaut, but we were there for what seemed like hours, certainly for much intense conversation (in French) interspersed with slurping and spitting. From there we stopped at a producer of Châteauneuf-du-pape (the ‘new castle of the Pope’ because we all remember when the French king supported a rival Pope and installed (held?) him near Avignon, principal city in the region that produces Châteauneuf). The Chef Cousin knew this vineyard, Château la Nerthe, and thought it a better producer than the other exhibitor in the Club; I have to agree having tasted both now. At Nerthe we tasted red and white Châteauneuf, in both the Château name and in named cuvees or separate productions, which this winemaker considers to be finer wines, both in red and white; their Premier Cru, if you will.
Interesting to note that 2005 in Burgundy is shaping up to be a mythic year, certainly with mythic prices on the wines, but in the Rhone Valley, where Châteauneuf is produced, 2006 is a highly acclaimed year. Indeed the '06 white wine we tasted at Nerthe was delectable, for drinking today and for several years to come. As in Burgundy, the Châteauneuf 2005 reds were the most recent available to taste, but the grapes used are completely different. Châteauneuf is a blend of grapes; in the red, primarily Grenache, but also Syrah, Mourvedre and Cinsault. White Châteauneuf is also primarily Grenache, but white Grenache, and Clairette, Roussane and Picpoul. At the other producer of Châteauneuf, the difference was marked, especially with their 2006 white. The second had none of the complexity or full taste of the terroir that the first contained. Interestingly, the prices at Chateau Nerthe were roughly twice that of the second producer, Domaine de Nalys. Neither producer met my Golden Ratio measure.
Additionally, we tasted Madiran, a big, meaty, ‘masculine’ blended red wine much in the Bordeaux tradition produced in the south-west of France. I quite like it as a rule, but it is best drunk 7 – 10 years old and I can never find anything in very young Madiran that I love in an older one. We also tried several Alsace wines from Vignoble André Scherer. These wines are Riesling, Pinot Gris, and Gewurztraminer, among others. They tend to be fruitier than other wines and often sweeter. I appreciate them, particularly the ‘late harvest’ or ‘noble grape’ wines. These are the dessert wines, grapes left on the vine until more sugar is produced or until a fungus appears that aids in the production of sweeter wines. It was interesting to taste a Pinot Late Harvest that was much more interesting than a Gewurzt Noble which should have been the better one. I felt that the sugar overwhelmed the fruit and aroma of the Gewurzt. I did buy here an Poire Eau-de-Vie.
Finally, we arrived at another Burgundy producer, Roux Père & Fils. A larger producer than Ravaut, they also have a broader range of wines, some produced from grapes they have grown, some produced from grapes they have bought. The latter is not an unusual situation; there are numerous négociants in Burgundy. Some buy grapes from very particular parcelles, some buy grapes without attribution to a parcelle, some work in the village where they bought the grapes, some truck them to other locations. Some négociants even buy product after the harvest – juice, fermented juice, barrels, etc. Obviously, the closer the wine is made to where the vine grows, and the more control he has over the grapes on that vine, the more respected the wine of the négociant.
After tasting a variety of Roux wines, red and white, I found the production to be overreaching and the flavor to be different from what I appreciate in Burgundy. The Chef Cousin best described the wines as being produced to be sold and drunk immediately, not aged. This is a different mentality than most winemakers in Burgundy. Coupled with higher prices than Ravaut, Roux did not meet the Golden Ratio.
Interesting to note that 2005 in Burgundy is shaping up to be a mythic year, certainly with mythic prices on the wines, but in the Rhone Valley, where Châteauneuf is produced, 2006 is a highly acclaimed year. Indeed the '06 white wine we tasted at Nerthe was delectable, for drinking today and for several years to come. As in Burgundy, the Châteauneuf 2005 reds were the most recent available to taste, but the grapes used are completely different. Châteauneuf is a blend of grapes; in the red, primarily Grenache, but also Syrah, Mourvedre and Cinsault. White Châteauneuf is also primarily Grenache, but white Grenache, and Clairette, Roussane and Picpoul. At the other producer of Châteauneuf, the difference was marked, especially with their 2006 white. The second had none of the complexity or full taste of the terroir that the first contained. Interestingly, the prices at Chateau Nerthe were roughly twice that of the second producer, Domaine de Nalys. Neither producer met my Golden Ratio measure.
Additionally, we tasted Madiran, a big, meaty, ‘masculine’ blended red wine much in the Bordeaux tradition produced in the south-west of France. I quite like it as a rule, but it is best drunk 7 – 10 years old and I can never find anything in very young Madiran that I love in an older one. We also tried several Alsace wines from Vignoble André Scherer. These wines are Riesling, Pinot Gris, and Gewurztraminer, among others. They tend to be fruitier than other wines and often sweeter. I appreciate them, particularly the ‘late harvest’ or ‘noble grape’ wines. These are the dessert wines, grapes left on the vine until more sugar is produced or until a fungus appears that aids in the production of sweeter wines. It was interesting to taste a Pinot Late Harvest that was much more interesting than a Gewurzt Noble which should have been the better one. I felt that the sugar overwhelmed the fruit and aroma of the Gewurzt. I did buy here an Poire Eau-de-Vie.
Finally, we arrived at another Burgundy producer, Roux Père & Fils. A larger producer than Ravaut, they also have a broader range of wines, some produced from grapes they have grown, some produced from grapes they have bought. The latter is not an unusual situation; there are numerous négociants in Burgundy. Some buy grapes from very particular parcelles, some buy grapes without attribution to a parcelle, some work in the village where they bought the grapes, some truck them to other locations. Some négociants even buy product after the harvest – juice, fermented juice, barrels, etc. Obviously, the closer the wine is made to where the vine grows, and the more control he has over the grapes on that vine, the more respected the wine of the négociant.
After tasting a variety of Roux wines, red and white, I found the production to be overreaching and the flavor to be different from what I appreciate in Burgundy. The Chef Cousin best described the wines as being produced to be sold and drunk immediately, not aged. This is a different mentality than most winemakers in Burgundy. Coupled with higher prices than Ravaut, Roux did not meet the Golden Ratio.
Wine Weekend Paris - Tastings
We started tasting at Ravaut, a great producer of Burgundies, favored by the Chef Cousin and a domain I have visited a couple of times. The Chef Cousin has always said that Ravaut wines are prime examples of the Golden Ratio. Good wine is not just price - high or low - nor is it only about age or taste, but I think it is about the balance of price and quality. Anyway, Ravaut is a typical Burgundy domain – family owned and operated from what resembles more a 60’s farmhouse than a chateau, proprietors of small parts of named fields (climats or parcelles) that are not contiguous and passionate for their production. We had been joined by Boulanger, one of Chef Cousin’s suppliers, and the four of us tasted some excellent 2005's (reds) and 2006's (whites). Note: in Burgundy, traditionally, red wine is not bottled for almost 18 months after the harvest; white wine is bottled sooner.
In reality we tasted about 12 wines – 5 or so whites and 7 reds. The whites included a 2006 and a 2005 Corton Charlemagne Grand Cru which is so named, according to legend, because Charlemagne loved wine and asked the Burgundy winemakers to produce a white suitable for a king that would not stain his long blond beard when it trickled out the corners of his mouth! Among the red wines we tasted were some very distinct ones. Remember that 99% of red Burgundy is made from one grape, the Pinot Noir, and is not blended like Bordeaux or many other great wines. As a result, it is always fascinating to taste reds produced by the same winemaker, all from grapes grown, in Ravaut’s case, in lower Côtes de Nuits and upper Côtes de Beaune (geographic areas as close as Chelsea and Greenwich Village in Manhattan) that are so dramatically different.
We had a ‘flight’ of Ladoix, Premier Crus and Villages, from different parcelles, and compared these to two Aloxe-Corton – one a Premier Cru, one not. Now in Burgundy, there are a number of distinctions in the labeling for wine, red and white, and controls on where the grapes are grown for different wines. The authorities that control produce named for regions or AOC’s (Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée), have granted several AOC’s in Burgundy. The basic white or red can be labeled Bourgogne Blanc or Bourgogne Pinot Noir – regional wines that can be made from grapes grown in Burgundy. Above that are wines labeled Bourgogne Aligoté or Côte de Nuits Villages – wines made from grapes grown in a certain area but harvested from any variety of vineyards. Next in the pecking order are the Appellation Villages or Communales made from grapes grown within the borders of a village. These include well known wines like Chablis and Pommard and less well known such as Irancy and Rully. Within the Village wines there is another distinction – Premier Cru – awarded to certain parcelles and therefore the wines produced from these fields carry that moniker. The highest level is Grand Cru, granted to a limited number of parcelles and attached to a Village name – Chablis Grand Cru or Corton Grand Cru – but generally wines carrying this label are catalogued separately from other wines from the same Village. Grand and Premier Cru wines are produced from both Pinot Noir or Chardonnay grapes (the latter is the grape used in the majority of white Burgundies) grown in delimited fields, and the authorities also control annual quantities produced under the different AOC’s.
So, racing back to the tasting, in the ‘flight’ we had a Ladoix (a Village wine made from Pinot Noir grapes grown anywhere inside this appellation), a Ladoix Les Carrières (again a Village but made from grapes grown inside the parcelle, ‘Les Carrières’), a Ladoix Clos Royer (likewise, but a Clos is a fenced field), and three Ladoix 1er Cru, all from different parcelles. Now, remember that the Village appellation is not much bigger than a couple of city blocks, the parcelles are small named fields inside that appellation and the Premier Cru parcelles are a few of the named fields (often at the top of the hill or with a different exposure than the others because it is believed that vines that ‘suffer’ – less water or nutrients – make better wine; rather like suffering for fashion – the pointier the shoe, the more painful to the toes but the more stunning). Each of the Ladoix was as individual as cousins in a family by which I mean that there was a common thread of taste but several were more tannic, one or two more supple, one more filled with ripe red fruit, etc. It was a revelation and clarified for me a reason to visit this type of tasting – sorting out which tastes one prefers within an appellation of wine.
Next we tried two different Aloxe-Corton, one a Premier Cru. Now this is described by most as a feminine wine – delicate, smooth and elegant – and when the Personal Historian was in Paris recently, we ordered a '99 at Chez Julian. It followed an excellent 2000 Rully 1er Cru (white), and I thought the Aloxe was light but fine until the Personal Historian ordered a glass of Gevrey-Chambertin with dessert. Upon tasting that, I thought I had been drinking water with red food coloring. Now to be fair, a great Gevrey could be called a steamroller when compared to a decent Aloxe, or as the Prince Consort would say, “Un a rien a faire avec le autre” or something like that. Nevertheless, I swore off Aloxe and it was with less than enthusiasm that I tasted Ravaut’s. Well, what a pleasant surprise! Worth drinking, worth buying, and most of all, another reason to visit tastings – sorting out which domain produces wine that you appreciate.
In reality we tasted about 12 wines – 5 or so whites and 7 reds. The whites included a 2006 and a 2005 Corton Charlemagne Grand Cru which is so named, according to legend, because Charlemagne loved wine and asked the Burgundy winemakers to produce a white suitable for a king that would not stain his long blond beard when it trickled out the corners of his mouth! Among the red wines we tasted were some very distinct ones. Remember that 99% of red Burgundy is made from one grape, the Pinot Noir, and is not blended like Bordeaux or many other great wines. As a result, it is always fascinating to taste reds produced by the same winemaker, all from grapes grown, in Ravaut’s case, in lower Côtes de Nuits and upper Côtes de Beaune (geographic areas as close as Chelsea and Greenwich Village in Manhattan) that are so dramatically different.
We had a ‘flight’ of Ladoix, Premier Crus and Villages, from different parcelles, and compared these to two Aloxe-Corton – one a Premier Cru, one not. Now in Burgundy, there are a number of distinctions in the labeling for wine, red and white, and controls on where the grapes are grown for different wines. The authorities that control produce named for regions or AOC’s (Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée), have granted several AOC’s in Burgundy. The basic white or red can be labeled Bourgogne Blanc or Bourgogne Pinot Noir – regional wines that can be made from grapes grown in Burgundy. Above that are wines labeled Bourgogne Aligoté or Côte de Nuits Villages – wines made from grapes grown in a certain area but harvested from any variety of vineyards. Next in the pecking order are the Appellation Villages or Communales made from grapes grown within the borders of a village. These include well known wines like Chablis and Pommard and less well known such as Irancy and Rully. Within the Village wines there is another distinction – Premier Cru – awarded to certain parcelles and therefore the wines produced from these fields carry that moniker. The highest level is Grand Cru, granted to a limited number of parcelles and attached to a Village name – Chablis Grand Cru or Corton Grand Cru – but generally wines carrying this label are catalogued separately from other wines from the same Village. Grand and Premier Cru wines are produced from both Pinot Noir or Chardonnay grapes (the latter is the grape used in the majority of white Burgundies) grown in delimited fields, and the authorities also control annual quantities produced under the different AOC’s.
So, racing back to the tasting, in the ‘flight’ we had a Ladoix (a Village wine made from Pinot Noir grapes grown anywhere inside this appellation), a Ladoix Les Carrières (again a Village but made from grapes grown inside the parcelle, ‘Les Carrières’), a Ladoix Clos Royer (likewise, but a Clos is a fenced field), and three Ladoix 1er Cru, all from different parcelles. Now, remember that the Village appellation is not much bigger than a couple of city blocks, the parcelles are small named fields inside that appellation and the Premier Cru parcelles are a few of the named fields (often at the top of the hill or with a different exposure than the others because it is believed that vines that ‘suffer’ – less water or nutrients – make better wine; rather like suffering for fashion – the pointier the shoe, the more painful to the toes but the more stunning). Each of the Ladoix was as individual as cousins in a family by which I mean that there was a common thread of taste but several were more tannic, one or two more supple, one more filled with ripe red fruit, etc. It was a revelation and clarified for me a reason to visit this type of tasting – sorting out which tastes one prefers within an appellation of wine.
Next we tried two different Aloxe-Corton, one a Premier Cru. Now this is described by most as a feminine wine – delicate, smooth and elegant – and when the Personal Historian was in Paris recently, we ordered a '99 at Chez Julian. It followed an excellent 2000 Rully 1er Cru (white), and I thought the Aloxe was light but fine until the Personal Historian ordered a glass of Gevrey-Chambertin with dessert. Upon tasting that, I thought I had been drinking water with red food coloring. Now to be fair, a great Gevrey could be called a steamroller when compared to a decent Aloxe, or as the Prince Consort would say, “Un a rien a faire avec le autre” or something like that. Nevertheless, I swore off Aloxe and it was with less than enthusiasm that I tasted Ravaut’s. Well, what a pleasant surprise! Worth drinking, worth buying, and most of all, another reason to visit tastings – sorting out which domain produces wine that you appreciate.
Wine Weekend Paris - First Notes
I arrived in Paris on Saturday morning, early, really early, and there was a transport strike so the Prince Consort had to drive out to collect me. Sadly, all was not collected, as one bag did not arrive. Not the end of the world, but aggravating. By the time we got to La Residence, I had only about an hour to rest after eating before we had to get to the peniches (flat covered river barges) where a wine tasting and sale was being held. The Carrefour du Club des Vignerons Lauréats is an annual event where the wine-making members of this Club present their latest wines to potential buyers - individual and commercial.
The Prince Consort and I were introduced to this Club by the Chef Cousin who is passionate for wine, especially Burgundies. Going to the Club is great fun - one arrives and checks in, picks up a degustation glass or two and heads into the room. The perimeter is lined with tables where winemakers have their produce arranged and are ready to pour and discuss. The visitor feels little to no push to purchase although price lists are available and few winemakers are slow to offer multiple tastes. Luckily, as there are 50+ exposants, spittoons are readily available. Don't forget to taste and spit because you're on a boat and passing ships on the Seine create a roll with their wake!
The Prince Consort and I were introduced to this Club by the Chef Cousin who is passionate for wine, especially Burgundies. Going to the Club is great fun - one arrives and checks in, picks up a degustation glass or two and heads into the room. The perimeter is lined with tables where winemakers have their produce arranged and are ready to pour and discuss. The visitor feels little to no push to purchase although price lists are available and few winemakers are slow to offer multiple tastes. Luckily, as there are 50+ exposants, spittoons are readily available. Don't forget to taste and spit because you're on a boat and passing ships on the Seine create a roll with their wake!
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Introduction
This is all started because The Girlfriend says I write interesting emails, that I write like I speak. I guess I can't help but write long circular emails; I am southern after all. Maybe being southern makes me enjoy food, or maybe being 'raised up' in a household that ate regionally before that was chic and with my roots in Appalachia, I love food. I know the blog title is eating AND drinking, but I don't have to explain the latter, it just comes naturally.
The two biggest problems with creating a blog are time and spelling. We'll see how the issue of time works out, but I have to say that websites with "Latest News" or "Recent Press" tabs that contain, as the newest post, something a year old really slay me, as do blogs to which I am pointed that have not had a post in the last several months. The other issue is my problem. I cannot spell. It was my mother's cross to bear; she could write perfectly crafted paragraphs in the dark while sleeping. I don't mind comments on the spelling but be kind, no smart-ass editors! Recently I sent around a list of wines with tasting notes, very 'laa-di-da' and I misspelled Burgundy. Two people commented kindly and I haven't made the mistake again, yet.
Anyway, I have the pleasure of traveling regularly between Paris and New York City. Thankfully, I love to fly, but most of all I am consumed planning my next meal. A motto for this blog could be: Eating is Theatre, and it is a pleasure to share my world's stage and fellow actors with you, the Audience.
One of the tidbits to be learned, Audience, is my philosophy about the Golden Ratio. Good food and drink is not just price - high or low - nor is it just about taste or quantity, but it is about the ratio of price to quality. I believe that all good food and drink need to have a ratio close to 1; memorable street food can be as great for a couple of bucks as a 4-star, 4-$ restaurant meal.
Other features soon to be more obvious are my current obsession with wines from Burgundy - both red and white - and my disapproval of drinking them too young, my love of 'deconstructed' cuisine, and my dislike for eating alone.
With those warnings, I look forward to sharing my pleasures!
The two biggest problems with creating a blog are time and spelling. We'll see how the issue of time works out, but I have to say that websites with "Latest News" or "Recent Press" tabs that contain, as the newest post, something a year old really slay me, as do blogs to which I am pointed that have not had a post in the last several months. The other issue is my problem. I cannot spell. It was my mother's cross to bear; she could write perfectly crafted paragraphs in the dark while sleeping. I don't mind comments on the spelling but be kind, no smart-ass editors! Recently I sent around a list of wines with tasting notes, very 'laa-di-da' and I misspelled Burgundy. Two people commented kindly and I haven't made the mistake again, yet.
Anyway, I have the pleasure of traveling regularly between Paris and New York City. Thankfully, I love to fly, but most of all I am consumed planning my next meal. A motto for this blog could be: Eating is Theatre, and it is a pleasure to share my world's stage and fellow actors with you, the Audience.
One of the tidbits to be learned, Audience, is my philosophy about the Golden Ratio. Good food and drink is not just price - high or low - nor is it just about taste or quantity, but it is about the ratio of price to quality. I believe that all good food and drink need to have a ratio close to 1; memorable street food can be as great for a couple of bucks as a 4-star, 4-$ restaurant meal.
Other features soon to be more obvious are my current obsession with wines from Burgundy - both red and white - and my disapproval of drinking them too young, my love of 'deconstructed' cuisine, and my dislike for eating alone.
With those warnings, I look forward to sharing my pleasures!
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