Italian Saturday Night

We continue to be laggard in our duties to you, Loyal Audience, but rest assured you have strong and persistent allies. The Country Lady is determined to push us into regular blog-ness. She claims she is hoping to use this meager column to communicate with others. Perhaps it is a terrorist plot or a reach for world domination…

Nevertheless, secretly we fear the Country Lady so we are trying to habitualize ourselves to a regular schedule and expect that once we do, you, Fearless Reader, will be cowed into replying to the Country Lady. Therefore, here is a brief installment on a surprisingly lovely restaurant in which the A-Girl and I dined one Saturday night recently.

It is called Morandi, and it is just east of Seventh Avenue at the intersection of Charles Street and Waverly Place in the Village. It looks, on a Saturday night, exactly like the sort of place one should avoid – filled with thin blonde women with enormously chic handbags and very large sunglasses even though it is dark outside all looking at men with hair gelled into unbelievable positions and wearing dress shirts without ties.

At the same time, we were hungry, everything else interesting in the Village was full with outrageously long waiting lists and Morandi looks like it could be as Italian as the name sounds. Now, not Italian in that Bar Pitti and its lower priced neighbor sort of way nor Italian like Cipriani on West Broadway; those are too yellow, as if one is eating in a lemon. No this is Italian in a bleached wood, tile and touches of red sort of way, in a Keith McNally sort of way – authentic without overwhelming, good food without making us think, and efficient service regardless of how many blondes in the room.

True to form, we were seated in only half a drink at the bar’s time. As hungry as we were, we began to order immediately and fell upon the Fritto Misto and the Olive Ascolana to start. With that the A-Girl ordered a bottle of Negro Rose which was not bad, but did not have the body she was searching. However, at $30, we had no complaints.

The Fritto Misto was delightful, well fried, light and crunchy without any oily feeling. The mix of seafood was inspiring and made us think that the hot NYC night had transformed into a Roman one. The A-Girl was also disappointed in the Ascolana. We were not, but we will eat almost anything that is fried and these had the benefit of being salty with sausage wrapped inside.

From there we plunged into (under the A-Girl’s guidance) a Pasta Sarde that included pine nuts, raisins and sardines – delectable – and Vitello Tonnato, a great favorite of mine normally but which disappointed this evening mostly for its size but also for the consistency of the Tonnato sauce. We found it just too dry. Washing this down, we ordered a bottle of Savuto, a southern Italian red which was more pleasing to the A-Girl for its body and earthiness than the first wine. At $38 a bottle, we thought it was perfectly drinkable as well.

Dessert was pleasing, despite my preconceptions of austere Italian desserts (thank you, Keith). We had a fruit Granita and a Frittelle di Ricotta, little ricotta fritters dusted with cinnamon sugar. We are in sort of a Granita-mood lately, even making it at home and found this one to be perfect. It was just piquant enough with a slight sugary after taste, and as for the Frittelle, see above re: fried things, we love them.

All in all, Morandi is worth the effort for the effort that McNally has made. Will it last like Odeon, who knows, but for the time being, with that big outdoor area and the front windows rolled up, it is worth a summer trip.

buon appetito

Saturday Night with Jimi

As often occurs upon a return stateside, our evenings are filled with dinners among friends and, not infrequently, at new restaurants. On this past Saturday evening we had the pleasure of dining with Her Grottiness, a deux. Quelle plaisir. Not that Mr. Sausage is not a wonderful addition to any dinner, but rather that Her Grottiness and I rarely have the opportunity to spend time one-on-one.

Saturday evening changed that and we rushed off early to a new restaurant on West 8th Street, #33. Yep, smack in the middle of ‘Shoe Town.' Later the Personal Historian pointed out that the blocks of 8th Street from 6th Avenue to Broadway are turning into a bit of a restaurant row. He even cited a differentiation between blocks based on price and type of restaurant. Who knew?

Anyway, as if Shoe Town weren’t strange enough, the owners of this place claim that Jimi Hendrix played guitar in the location years ago. Was he hunting for shoes? I guess we’ll never know. And just to add to the confusion, the name of the restaurant is Elettaria, named for a green cardamom seed.... okay!

All the same, the pocket reviews we had seen gave it creed in our book – a chef who had done the rounds and opened good places for big names; cocktails designed by leaders in NYC’s burgeoning downtown cocktail lounge scene; and interior design by some hip firm. We had to try before it was overwhelmed or closed.

Our quickie summation: it won’t close! And there are not that many seats in the dining room, so it may get overwhelmed. We decided that the most intime and interesting method of exploring the menu here would be to eat at the bar. Therefore, no reservation in hand on a Saturday night, we rolled into Elettaria.

It was deserted.

Admittedly, it was only 7pm but don’t those BLT-ers who need to get back to suburbia before too late eat early? We are not sure but are putting our money on the fact that no one can spell the name to find directions or reservations.

And that is too bad because it is worth the effort. One enters Elettaria at the end of a long rectangle; at the opposite end and parallel to the street is a gleaming open kitchen; on the left side of the rectangle runs a bar half the length of the restaurant and only at the end of this bar does the dining room begin. The bar is surrounded by well-padded and comfortable stools. Additionally, but surprisingly, there are hooks under the top of the bar in front of each stool for handbags and/or packages. How civilized!

The bar itself has a rather 50’s/60’s look and 3 large round banquets on the opposite wall only add to that feeling. The ceiling is low and the length of the restaurant is accentuated by the application of wide plank flooring on the ceiling and the floor. The menu is presented with the cocktail and wine list in a small hardbound book, rather like a photo album, and the pages are illustrated with antique botanical drawings.

Interestingly, the cuisine is a fusion of classic Euro/American with Asian spicing, particularly Indian. And while the wine list is practically nonexistent, a throw-away, the cocktails are designed to be drunk with the food and include and complement the unusual spicing. I started with an Opaka Raka, a refreshing gin drink with a citrus mixer made in-house that included cinnamon and spices common in Indian cuisine. Later on we tried a few wines and Her Grottiness did find a Torrontes, a very light white wine from Argentina that pleased her, and we drank a glass or two of an Italian white from Calabria.

This choice pleased us as it was 1) unknown to us, 2) different, and 3) very interesting. To share a bit with you, Dear Reader, the full name of the wine is Efeso Bianco IGT, Calabria, Italy 2004 – Montonico. To dissect that: Efeso Bianco is the type of wine, like Meursault; IGT stands for Indicazione Geografica Tipica and is the geographic control on Italian wine production, like AOC on French wines; Calabria, obviously is from where the wine originates; and Montonico is the cepage or grape.

Online notes at Winebow.com (http://www.winebow.com/wine_basicinfo.asp?ID=719&producer=40) tell us that Montonico is an indigenous grape variety from Calabria that was cultivated for centuries before almost disappearing completely. Librandi, one of the leading producers in the region, is dedicated to recovering these historic grapes, of which Mantonico is one of the most important. The grapes are hand harvested at the end of September from the vineyards located in the Rocca di Neto area. In order to add roundness and softness, malolactic fermentation is completed in both new and used barriques. Efeso is aged for eight months in oak barriques for extra refinement.

Keep your eyes open this summer for 2004 Efeso in your local wine shop; it’s a keeper! The color is very deep golden yellow, much darker than the age would imply. The nose is extremely smoky and pungent like a big Burgundy chardonnay. In the mouth, there is a lot of flavor – honey, ripe green fruits, and a lingering earthiness present in most good southern Italian wines. The oak barrels give structure but what tannins may have resulted from this aging have faded now. We don’t imagine this wine, like many from hot climates, would age long but it is very drinkable at this time.

As for the meal, it was as interesting as that Efeso. We followed the A-Girl school of dining and focused on starters, lots of starters. Beginning with Samosas of curried rabbit with coconut sambar and a tamarind vinaigrette, we were introduced to the East/West fusion happening in the kitchen. The sambar was a quenelle of coconut paste on the side which enhanced the samosa when one dragged through it.

Next up were Sweetbreads with romaine, pineapple and pink peppercorns. Now we and Her Grottiness adore sweetbreads and they are not often found on a menu in NYC. This preparation was excellent – we ate two orders! The sweetbreads had been lightly breaded and sautéed, the pineapple was cut into small cubes and had been pickled in a brine that left it crunchy, a deep pink color and with a sophisticated sweet/sour taste. The pink peppercorns were sprinkled whole over the dish and when bitten were both spicy hot and cool.

Our next choice was determined by the bartender’s description, but before we reveal that we would be amiss if we did not comment on the overly reserved quality of the bartender. From the moment of our arrival until departure at closing (!), he remained not unfriendly, not rude, just too reserved, sadly. When ‘prodded’ he provided information, answered questions but did not engage in small talk.

Nevertheless, when asked about the Crab Meat Resala, he explained that the crab meat and the gnocchi were sautéed in butter.... that made us moan lightly so it arrived next. Crab meat tossed with fried gnocchi, turmeric-onion soubise, basil seeds and fried herbs – the latter was parsley as a garnish, the basil seeds tossed in lightly and a soubise, according to Epicurious.com (http://www.epicurious.com/tools/fooddictionary/entry/?id=4663) is a rich, velvety sauce made by combining béchamel with pureed cooked onions and sometimes a small amount of cream, or a meat accompaniment of pureed cooked onions and rice. There was no rice here, so we are going with the first definition. The turmeric provided a light yellow color. It was appropriately rich and enjoyable.

Now we were at a loss for a last dish; again poking and prodding the bartender we finally extracted what he described as his favorite and a chef specialty, “a sort of deconstructed sushi”: Kona Kanpachi. Kona is a type of white fish served in small thin slices on the plate with jackfruit (a large Southeastern Asian fruit, soft and with a sweet flavor not unlike pineapple), bean sprouts (not at all like the ones we ate on salads in the 90’s) and smoked peanuts. Individually the parts of this dish were undistinguished but when they arrived in our mouths together there was an explosion of tastes and flavors that had not been experienced that night. A delight and exactly what deconstructed food should be all about.

We say, “Elettaria: find it, get there, eat at the bar, and ‘poke’ the server.” It’s worth the effort.

Enjoy!

Yesterday Evening - Hundred Acres

Many of you have probably forgotten us; as a matter of fact, we have forgotten us, but we are still out here travelling and eating.

We are attempting to follow the Country Lady’s suggestion and make commentary on a restaurant in which we ate with the A-Girl on Tuesday night. It was Hundred Acres and is owned and operated by the team of Marc Meyer and Vicki Freeman, who have brought us Cookshop and Five Points. Continuing on their successful theme of locavore/Greenmarket-driven cooking, Hundred Acres is less formal and less expensive than Cookshop, and less ‘precious’ than Five Points.

H. Acres was opened in the former Provence, which had been bought but not created by Meyer/Freeman, and the space has been incredibly well re-tuned. Many would say all that remains of Provence is the address on MacDougal Street and the phone number, when in reality, the biggest change is a repositioning of the front door. Once seated in the restaurant we began to imagine that we were somewhere else in a well-run, long-owned family restaurant that has served good American cuisine for many years in some well-heeled Northeastern college town... think, Princeton.

Following this fantasy, one could imagine that the decor has been updated at different times by different generations of family management. There are the large, graceful mid-century modern Nelson hanging light fixtures, the pre-WWII white tiled bar back splash, the 80’s sconces and the contemporary chairs, all presented against the original old wood paneling and floors.

That said, it is the success of Meyer/Freeman and their designer that the redesign, which retained the back room and the garden room, conjures up this feeling of longevity. The food echoes the decor. The menu is expected to change daily and present the best of local grown, seasonal ingredients. Last night's offerings included 6 or 7 starters, 6 main plates and 3 sides.

Eating with the A-Girl always puts an emphasis on the starters, and true to form, we had 4 plus a main course, one side and a cheese plate. For beverages, she pronounced the cocktail list “awful” but was pleased to find that the table bread was a Sullivan Street Bakery Italian round loaf. We were tickled pink over the wine list. It was both sides of a page, well printed, with whites (by the glass and bottle) on one side and reds on the other. The prices ranged from low ($20’s) to high ($150), the descriptions were concise and the selection balanced and interesting.

We rewarded their efforts by starting with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from Channing Daughters Winery, a Long Island producer. For $48 it offered white flowers in the bouquet backed up by a dry fruitiness and pleasant minerality in the mouth. All in all, a good drink.

To go with this fresh Sauvignon, we started with:
Deviled eggs served on a bed of watercress – like Grandma’s on a busy day, they were fine and reverential but could have been spiced differently
Fried squash blossoms and crab relish – well the A-Girl says that squash blossoms are out of season, but we say (in an admittedly hypercritical way) that the oil in which they were fried had been used for other things, however, the crab relish was EXCELLENT!! Lightly pickled corn kernels tossed at the last moment with picked crab meat – fresh, cool, seasonal, delightful; the blossoms became extraneous garnish
Fried green tomatoes – freshly fried, not greasy with an excellent batter, but the tomatoes needed to be sliced twice as thick: fried tomatoes are a study in crispy and mushy, hot and cold, here the thinness of the slice eliminated the mush factor; our waiter was from Georgia and told us he had said the same the night before to the chef
Grilled trumpet mushrooms with fromage blanc – the all over masterpiece of the evening, grilled sliced mushrooms tossed with baby salad, salt and pepper in a light olive oil dressing and a quenelle of savory (not the traditional sweet) fromage blanc to smear on a baguette toast

Next up was a yummy red wine from Southern Italy, Puglia, a Salice Salentino for $38, this was the steal of the evening. All the baked earth and hot sun was funneled by those grapes into a big bold full bodied red. It was a great accompanist to our main dish:
Cooked sliced ham with a citrus sauce and a vegetable I cannot remember (!) – this was 2 large thin slices of good ham served with a light lingering citrus (more lemon than orange), the dish a successful contemporary riff on the 60’s/70’s version of big pink sliced hams with pineapple orange sauce
3-Bean salad (as a side) – green beans, wax beans, and lima beans all well cooked served in a hot version of what we grew up with in the south as a cold side dish

To close, a cheese plate of 2 decent but forgettable American pasteurized cows milk semi-hard cheeses accompanied by a little bowl of seasonal fruit that last night included currents, cherries, and gooseberries. When we whined to the waiter about pasteurized cheese, he told us that when they first opened there were unpasteurized cheeses on the menu and people had refused to eat them so they dropped them... silly Americans!

Anyway, all in with too much wine for around $200 including tip; we’d be happy to go back, can imagine spending less but didn’t feel bad about last night’s cost either.

Check it out!

Briefly

Recently something was learned that gave us pause and provoked reflection. We have always written this journal in pleasantry and for the amusement of a small group of true intimates (our Dear Audience). We plan to continue to do so even though we know that with time intimacies change and can become less so. However, it is important that you, Loyal Reader, remember that no harm is ever intended and no pain is meant to be inflicted.

It was made plain in the commencement of this missive (for journal implies daily if not regular attendance of which we are not readily able) that much blame for its existence could be laid at the feet of the Girlfriend, who more than once encouraged us to create such a presence based upon our infrequent emails to the aforementioned.

Now, during our tempestuous life, many, both close and otherwise, have encouraged us to perform some task, take advantage of opportunity or exercise some form of restraint and we have chosen not to do so. “Why this time,” we hear you ask, Avid Followers, and the only answer might be that we do not know, except for the respect we hold for the Girlfriend’s passion for the written word.

However, living up to such praise and encouragement can be weightier than living under a great burden when it is viewed to be extended from the heights of achievement recognized by the Girlfriend. More simply put, she has expectations that we are unable to achieve.

Despite long pauses in postings to this boozy blog, the delay is not in the construction of the written pages but in the inconsistent mind of the author. It is therefore implicit and necessary to henceforth read these pages with an open mind and suspension of the sophisticated knowledge of literature possessed by the Girlfriend and others among you, Dear Audience.

If prior to composing this explanation, we have offended, it must be excused by fault of our ignorance and lack of motive. Please accept our apologies.

Furthermore, to encourage exchange and involvement, we have changed settings on the blog which now allow for posting comments directly and without approval.
Please commence!

Detour by Demand

Before we move on to the third round of the J.O., we wanted to respond to constructive criticism by the Country Lady. She suggested that we broaden the scope of this missive to include reviews of restaurants where some of us, or some of you, dear Audience, have eaten together.

We concur and therefore, belatedly but nevertheless, wish to discuss a meal eaten in NYC with the Country Lady, the Step-Daughter and the A-Girl at I Sodi. Having eaten in more than a few restaurants in our fast-paced life and some more than once, we have noted that each restaurant has a personality derived from its owner/chef/server(s), location, cuisine, cost, or some combination of these factors.

Although traditionally this personality becomes more obvious and ingrained with time, like children, a restaurant’s personality is normally apparent from the first day. One of our fondest and longest restaurant relationships was with Jean-Claude’s and despite rave reviews early after opening (perhaps too early for their own good), that restaurant’s early reputation for Gallic humor and comprehension of dining as theatre survived longer than the first chefs.

Also like children, no matter how beautiful or how well-dressed is the restaurant, a lack of personality makes for an uncomfortable encounter. We felt this overwhelmingly at I Sodi, which is located on Christopher Street, oddly enough (we say this because this particular block of Christopher has not traditionally supported fine dining…). Odd also was the clientele when we arrived with the A-Girl.

Now, thinking back, as we are sure you are, loyal Readers, to our list of factors determining restaurant personality, one could imagine that at such an address certain elements may be apparent, even if welcomed (although as a gay man, we’d say that NYC restaurants better always be welcoming if they know what is good for them). However, this is a relatively small space where the majority of the tables run down one wall facing the bar and bar stools that run along the other wall.

We were seated on the banquette side of the table facing the bar where our night’s entertainment (the Country Lady and the Step-Daughter had their entertainment elsewhere which is why we were dining a bit later than normal) was the waistband and thong strap on the large backside of an otherwise well-dressed woman who was hitting hard on a tattooed stone butch while the first woman’s female partner looked on with distaste.

From this performance we were periodically interrupted by the maitre d’ squeezing in between our table and the next to chat loudly but intimately with the two women seated next to us. The interruptions may have been more interesting for the A-Girl than for us as she is more of an old movie fan because one of the women was dressed as Mia Farrow in Rosemary’s Baby, but because she was roughly the age of Mia today, she thankfully was wearing the lace baby-doll over jeans. Her dining companion was also a woman of a certain age, a bottle-red (god, does that term exist?) with too much costume jewelry. Regardless, the maitre d’ was mesmerized or trapped, whichever, it is not important. He simply could not get more crammed in between the tables. Our primary view for the time waiting for our dining partners was two inescapable derriere views!

When our partners did arrive, we began to order wine and lots of hors d’œuvres including grilled sardines and bean dishes. The wine list was almost exclusively Italian with a strong focus on Tuscan wine to match the food. We must beseech the Country Lady and the A-Girl to remind us what we ate aside from several pastas including the speciality of the house, an artichoke lasagne and a traditional lasagne. There was a third pasta and a bottle of red wine following a white. We should have taken a second of the white as the red was unremarkable despite sending back the recommended red to choose another.

Needless to say, we were not impressed although the space was well built – lots of lovely white marble and beige wood, but we were distracted from the beauty of the back of the bar because of bad bottle arrangement. The service became better with time (as the restaurant cleared out and we were the only ones eating) and the noise level was not too bad. However, to paraphrase the Personal Historian, if one must travel through the city to eat Italian, then travel to Barboné at Avenue B and 12th Street. With a fine cellar and gentle prices, that trattoria is hard to beat.

Here’s to the ladies that will fill in my blanks!!

J.O. Day Two, Second Half

Back to work, loyal Audience. We’ve lots of reds to work through here. Maybe we should refresh your memory, prior to the full body dip:

Red Wines
* 2003 Ladoix, Chevalier Père et Fils because after visiting Saint-Romain we ate in a restaurant with the CC where the chef is the daughter of this producer
* 1996 Beaune 1er Cru, Les Grèves, Jean Allexant because Mr. Bordelais had promised to bring a Beaune 1er Cru that he had recently bought; we have this producer’s 1990 Beaune in magnum and it is delightful
* 1987 Santenay 1er Cru, Gravières, Paul Chapelle because this was also bought at the French Wal-Mart’s Foire aux Vins and after tasting it the first time, we returned to buy all that remained in the store
* 1992 Corton-Renardes Grand Cru, Domaine Maillard Père et Fils because Corton is one of the great wines of Burgundy and we’d never tasted it
* 1983 Pommard, Platières, Domaine Perruchot (in reserve) because the CC always says he has never tasted a Pommard that lives up to that wine’s notoriety

Digestive
* Graham’s Porto Vintage, 10 Year because we purchased it after drinking it for years and loving it on American Airlines’ international flights but had not opened one at home

Contributions
* 2004 Château Muret, Haut Médoc, Cru Bourgeois from the CC because he found the price-to-quality ratio to be very high and thought we should try it
* 1999 Beaune 1er Cru, Teurons, Bouchard Père et Fils because Mr. Bordelais had recently purchased it at auction and wanted us to taste it

We began with the Ladoix, always a lovely wine, especially for a village appellation and 2003 is, of course dear Readers, the year of the canicule that changed all wines for one year. Interestingly enough, as more and more time passes from the bottling of that year’s Burgundies, more and more producers are saying that one should drink their wines from 2003, that they are just not going to hold up with time, nor evolve and mature. Perhaps in other regions it is different, but this is what we are hearing in Burgundy.

So back to the wine at hand; we are very fond of the Ladoix produced by Ravault and have several different years in the cellar. Traditionally this wine has a beautiful deep ruby color with a full nose of red fruit. In the mouth, it is flavorful but less balanced or sophisticated than Premier Crus from the same immediate area. We would not go so far as to call it rustic, but it is easy to drink without thought. This particular one was no surprise. The one thing we would note is that Chevalier seems to make a wine more ‘ready to drink’ than many producers we know in the region. “Working the fruit,” as the CC calls it, produces a wine with good flavor, and balance upon bottling rather than after several years in a dark cellar. We would assume that Chevalier produces more wine than many other producers in the region and, since we can find some of their production in the neighborhood grocery (don’t you love France?), they produce a wine of reasonable quality that is easily appreciated by the average shopper.

Okay, okay, this Ladoix was not our favorite of the afternoon. Onward and upward, to the 1999 Beaune 1er Cru, Teurons, Bouchard Père et Fils. In past fact-filled screens, we feel that we have held forth on the Bouchard domain so if we repeat, loyal Readers, please forgive. The domain is an old one, large and commanding a great deal of respect in France. However, we see their wines in New York, as we all do, and are never very impressed with the quality.

In reality, they produce a great deal of wine from grapes and juice they buy from other growers, in village appellations or in simple Bourgogne Pinot Noir. These appear to be exported in large quantities while the wines made from grapes they grow in parcelles controlled by Bouchard are produced in more limited quantities with more limited distribution. Interestingly, they grow enough grapes in Premier Cru parcelles that Bouchard makes a Beaune Premier Cru, Le Château that is a blend of all their premier cru growths. Talk about ‘easy to drink.’ That one goes down like water, even in the most recent vintage. It also only sells for about 20 Euros in our neighborhood grocery. It is an easy but impressive hostess gift!

This particular Beaune, Teurons was delicious – fine and elegant as Beaune should be, with a full nose of red fruit. Unfortunately, it lacked that highly appreciated muskiness in the bouquet and similarly, in the mouth, it was slightly unbalanced with stronger tannins than fruit. Ultimately, we decided it was too young. Most likely with another 4 – 5 years in the cellar, it would be stellar!

To follow this Beaune, we’d chosen the 1996 Les Grèves by Allexant. Now, dear Reader, don’t forget that Beaune to Beaune, different parcelles produce different wines, and into this ‘mix’ we’ve added the difference of the producer. If Bouchard is big, far-reaching (they’ve production in many regions in France, not just Burgundy, and other parts of the world) and profitable, Allexant is small and family owned with a limited production that seems to have ceased at the end of the 1990’s. Regardless of their profit levels, Allexant made a wonderful Beaune last century. Those most loyal of the Audience will remember that a magnum of this domain’s 1990 village appellation impressed even the Prince Consort’s Aunts at Christmas dinner.

And we must say the 1996 received high marks from the audience this Saturday afternoon also. It was well balanced, fruity without being jammy, lingering in the mouth and possessing that essential musk both in the nose and in the mouth. Yes, we’ll admit we are partial to the more elegant of the Burgundian wines, but this was particularly good and for the price, excellent.

Continuing along that trail of elegance with age (the Country Lady always says we have a weakness for big-boned blondes of a certain age so maybe our taste in wine and women is similar; there is little more appealing than the elegance of time and beauty!), we pulled the cork on the Santenay 1er Cru, Gravières from Paul Chapelle. For Burgundy, this domain is a bit different. Paul Chapelle was a well-known wine maker in the hire of others when in 1976 he created his own domain. The year after the grapes for this bottle were harvested, in 1988, his two daughters took over the production and management of the domain.

Despite its finesse (Santenay is, after all, really a commune of Beaune), Santenay is a very complex wine that need a minimum of 10 years to mature. With time, the explosion of red fruits and sharp tannins rounds to an inky balance with the fruit expressing certain qualities more similar to dry fruits and the mouth is filled with layers of fruit, warm spices, smokiness... it is as if Chapelle had bottled autumn! I cannot believe the luck of finding this at the Foire aux Vins.

Having measured the endurance levels of our tasting companions, we had earlier in the afternoon carafed the 92 Corton-Renardes from Domaine Maillard. Unlike Bordeaux, which can stand open or carafed for hours and hours, Burgundies are more fragile and should be poured not much more than an hour or two depending on the age and type. A Grand Cru, as all Corton are, will have more ‘staying power’ than a village appellation of the same year.

Grand Crus are the pinnacle of Burgundy wines and should present the most complex, the most sophisticated and the most expressive of all wines from the region. At least that is our understanding. Sadly, we found this one slightly lacking. Okay, we can admit that maybe our taste buds were slightly strained. We were swirling, sniffing, sipping and SWALLOWING, not spitting, but considering all the degusting in caves we have done that finished with young Grand Crus, we are not convinced that excuse holds water, or wine. Perhaps it was the year; 1992 in Burgundy was not a bad year, and compared to some regions in France, quite good, but some experts describe the red wines of that year as beginning with very light tannins. We believe it is the tannins that balance the fruit and provide the skeleton on which wine ages. Without tannins, the wine is, well, less distinguished than it might be in other years. And although we probably had higher than legitimate expectations for this bottle, it must be noted that the price-to-quality ratio is very high. (Don’t forget, loyal Audience, with one small email you to can taste these wines in the comforts of chez vous.)

With the degusting of this Corton, the CC and Mr. Bordelais bid us farewell and departed the Onzieme. Both driving, they did, we are relieved to report, live to reach their respective homes. With the eager son-in-law, his step-father-in-law, and the Prince Consort, we were waiting for the telephone call from the 'powers-that-be' instructing us to appear for dinner. No call had yet arrived so we began to fix our gaze on the Pommard, the ‘must taste’ Bordeaux and the Port.

Until then, we should all go and take deep breaths outside to clear our heads...

J.O. – Day Two

We’ve left you, haven’t we, just like Londoners waiting for the next installment of Dickens’ serialized novels. It has taken a day or two longer to get back than we thought it would originally. However, if we don’t remove the bottles from the kitchen floor to recycling, the Prince Consort may abdicate!

So, let’s revisit the scene – the three wedding reception attendees invited and, just for fun, expertise and to introduce him and the restaurant to Mr. Bordelais, we’ve invited the Chef Cousin. We called him late Friday night as he was closing the restaurant and he not only agreed but also offered to bring a bit of charcuterie, bless him!

But they were invited for lunch and it is Saturday morning after a late evening of celebration. Up and off to the neighborhood supermarket. Now, dear Audience, we would be misleading if we left you thinking that our neighborhood supermarket was like a 7-11 in the Mojave Desert; it is much more like a politically incorrect Whole Foods with a very decent and affordable wine and alcohol section.

Considering the focus of the lunch was tasting Burgundies, in our morning fog, we could not decide whether the food was going to dictate the wine or the wine the food. Yes, yes, loyal Readers will immediately point out that we always say that food is simply the foil for the wine; however, we felt somewhat constrained by the fact that we had limited time to visit only one market prior to our guests’ arrival. Additionally, there is always the issue that we want to taste wines that might surprise or bring something new to the CC.

And frankly, we had to imagine that whatever was planned could be cooked easily regardless of the amount of wine degusted (remember we were swirling, sniffing, sipping and SWALLOWING, not spitting!). Therefore, we chose a variety of hors d’oeuvres – some spicy, some salty, no charcuterie – and some steaks we could grill and tangerines that the Prince Consort had demanded for dessert…. whatever….

We truly had tête dans les nuages, as the French say, or head in the clouds. Lunch was to be for six people max, probably five (not sure if or when Mr. Bordelais would arrive) but the best buy for steak was a package of five. Our desire for a bargain and a need to not to run out of food (we hate that) combined with the fog and we simply could not think to buy a single steak with the pack of five, so we came home with ten. You loyal Readers can imagine the Prince Consort’s face when he saw this! Days later His Nibs said, “Well you could have cooked the five steaks and sliced them for six.” Those French, so practical, but all we could imagine with his comment was lunch served after the sixth bottle with a side of ‘finger carpaccio in clotted sauce.’

Skipping home from the market, we dropped the groceries and headed down to the cellar with a big sack. Some choices were easy and obvious, some were less so. One or two took some false starts but we managed to choose enough bottles to have one or two in reserve if something failed. But, dear Audience, it is easier to choose for a degustation than for a formal dinner. If a bottle fails at a degust, is corked or has turned, it’s okay, part of the learning experience of a tasting; try explaining that in French at a formal dinner with your in-laws!

Well, have we brought you completely to the edge of your seat? Are you, dear Audience, chomping at the bit, figuratively of course? Waiting with bated breath for that magical list of wines? I planned to do even better than a list; yep, a photo…. but we’ve got to wait until someone shows up who can operate the camera. Don’t ask, but this is the sole reason we would consider getting a mobile phone that does something in addition to providing telephonic communication. But we digress, as soon as a camera operator appears, we’ll post some pics just for you.

Until then, here’s the list and the whys:
White Wines
* 2006 Saint-Véran, Domaine de la Croix Senaillet because it was in the refrigerator since we had visited the French version of Wal-Mart during their Foire aux Vins so it was certainly cold enough for the first bottle
* 2006 Saint-Romain, Sous le Château, Prunier Damy because avid Readers will remember our last trip to Burgundy where we were introduced to this wine and visited the village of Saint-Romain; the Chef Cousin is very fond of St-Romain
* 2000 Pernand-Vergelesses 1er Cru, Les Caradeux, Chanson Père et Fils because we think this wine by this producer is nectar of the gods; the CC knows Pernand but not this producer
* 1993 Pernand-Vergelesses, Pierre Marey et Fils because if 2000 is nectar this could be more so; we, with the CC, have visited and purchased Marey’s Pernand’s in the past years
* 1988 Château Couhins, Pessac-Léognan, Cru Classé de Graves (in reserve) because we bought this and keep hoping to find something it compliments

Red Wines
* 2003 Ladoix, Chevalier Père et Fils because after visiting Saint-Romain we ate in a restaurant with the CC, the Prince Consort and others where the chef is the daughter of this producer
* 1996 Beaune 1er Cru, Les Grèves, Jean Allexant because Mr. Bordelais had offered to bring another Beaune that he had recently bought; we have this producer’s 1990 Beaune in magnum and it is delightful
* 1987 Santenay 1er Cru, Gravières, Paul Chappelle because this was also bought at the French Wal-Mart’s Foire aux Vins and after tasting it the first time, we returned to buy all that remained in the store
* 1992 Corton-Renardes Grand Cru, Domaine Maillard Père et Fils because Corton is one of the great wines of Burgundy and we’d never tasted it
* 1983 Pommard, Platières, Domaine Perruchot (in reserve) because the CC always says he has never tasted a Pommard that lives up to the wine’s notoriety

Digestive
Graham’s Porto Vintage, 10 Year because we purchased it after drinking it for years and loving it on American Airlines’ international flights but had not opened one at home

Contributions
2004 Château Muret, Haut Médoc, Cru Bourgeois from the CC because he found the price-to-quality ratio to be very high and thought we should try it
1999 Beaune 1er Cru, Teurons, Bouchard Père et Fils because Mr. Bordelais had recently purchased it at auction and wanted us to taste it

We started around 1-1:30 and as we opened the Saint-Véran, introductions were made. The eager son-in-law manages a restaurant and hopes to open one some day; he and the Chef Cousin had much to discuss. That out of the way, the first glasses were examined. Sadly, we found the Saint-Véran lacking. With the Country Lady and the Girlfriend, we had visited this village and purchased wine that we found much more interesting. Aside from being cold and crisp, there was little to offer here and the price-to-quality ratio was way out of synch.

Next up (we left the St-Véran unfinished) was the 2006 Saint-Romain. St-Véran is from the southern region of Burgundy, Mâcon (another reason we were disappointed, normally these whites are so much rounder with soft fruit in the mouth and lovely florals in the nose grâce of their southern sun), and St-Romain is Côte de Beaune. The village of Saint-Romain is very old and developed on top of a sharp cliff and at the bottom of it as if one night the rocks moved and sheared it into two. In reality, we believe originally the local château was on the top of the cliff, for visibility and defense, while the villagers lived below in the shadow of the château.

St-Romain is a round and gras (literally ‘greasy’ meaning it lingers in the mouth) wine that is often drunk very young. It traditionally exhibits the minerality of white wines from the upper regions of Burgundy but with its own roundness and balance; not as particular as a Meursault but very pleasing in an approachable manner. This one by Prunier was great. The domain is rather spread out over the Côte de Beaune and much of the harvest and production is mechanized which we believe favors simpler wines such as this St-Romain. It’s a keeper!

From here, staying on the Côte de Beaune, we opened the 2000 Pernand-Vergelesses 1er Cru. As we’ve mentioned, we feel this is nectar. Love, love, love this wine. Bought some for a wedding present, got to taste one and fell in love with it. Now the search engine is eternally pointed at Pernand. Chanson is an old domain dating back to the 19th century that was bought by Champagne Bollinger in 1999, interestingly enough. We always complain, as loyal Readers will remember, that Americans drink wine too young and what they miss is exactly what makes this wine sing – the perfect balance of tannins and warm spices, of minerality and honey. It is a lovely golden color; it’s nectar!

The next opened, with a real eye (or tongue) to side-by-side comparison, was the 1993 Pernand. Note: it was not a completely fair comparison as the ’93 was not a 1er Cru and the domains were not the same, obviously, but knowing Marey as we do, we thought it would be interesting (and surprising to the CC). We’d also chilled this one only slightly. It had come from the cellar cool and it had less time in the refrigerator than the rest. Why? Tell them, devoted Audience, how, in addition to too young, white wines Americans drink are too cold. Frozen to death at birth, these poor wines; Americans might as well drink Coke Zero.

But we digress yet again. Minimal chilling allowed the full beauty of this wine to shine through. While not fragile, a 1993 village appellation is not going to explode in the glass; however, if the 2000 Pernand is nectar, it is derived from this source. The color was richer, the nose fuller with that highly desirable muskiness. In the mouth there was honey and spices without sweetness balanced perfectly with structure provided by the minerality of the soil in the village of Pernand.

Meanwhile, we are eating beautiful charcuterie – a great pile of sliced jamon from Spain and fromage de tête persil which is made from things you, dear Reader, may not wish to know but when it is well made, as this was, is delightful served cold! As we discussed wines and ate finger foods, a telephone call announced the imminent arrival of Mr. Bordelais.

We’ll begin to open reds after his arrival!

J.O.

Yep, that's what it is called in French; imagine! Oh, oh, no, we mean the historic games that happen each two years, winter or summer, Jeux Olympiques in French. We mention this only because the past weekend felt like an Olympic training or, perhaps, a torch run in Paris. Oh, n’inquiétez pas dear Reader, we’ll leave THAT discussion to the political bloggers, here we have serious discussions – wine, food, and more wine.

So, this is the scenario: leave New York on Thursday night, fly business class (bless those miles) to Paris, drink the very good Champagne they serve onboard, oh, and a glass or two of a Chablis Premier Cru but then we did sleep, and well. Arrival was Friday about noon; home to the Onzième with time to unpack before a quick nap. Wake up at 3:30pm for a shower and the dash to Marie de la Neuvième for (drum roll please) THE WEDDING OF PRINCESS P AND L’AVOCAT.

In a lovely room with gilded moldings and a painted ceiling, the Mayor of the Ninth Arrondissement of Paris officiated over a brief but agreeable ceremony joining them in matrimony, not holy, just matrimony. Note: France in a valiant effort to separate democratic government from the royalty and that group’s hardwired connection to the Church eliminated the power of the clergy to perform weddings. As a result, all ‘big-white-church-weddings’ must be preceded by a civil ceremony at a mayor’s office. On this day, there was to be no ‘big-white-church-wedding’ and after the ceremony, the family headed back to the newly weds’ apartment for what the French call a cocktail dînatoire.

Simply a cocktail party with enough food to make a dinner of it (don’t we all remember loving events like that when we were too young to afford restaurants but desperately wanted to ‘eat out’ with friends), a cocktail dînatoire is also an excellent way to bring a large group of friends and family together in a celebratory fashion without working oneself to death or outspending the aforementioned royalty.

Admittedly, the French and the cocktail are almost an oxymoron (a ‘martini’ here is sweet vermouth on the rocks) and until recently cocktail bars were called bar americains. French cocktail parties for much of our time in Paris were to be suffered, rather than anticipated, with their rows and rows of tasteless canapés and mountains of sauce-free crudités. The quick and clever among you dear Readers (even if a bit provincial) will ask why, with all the beautiful cheese in France, are there not lovely trays of it on the cocktail tables, and I must reply that cheese is ONLY served at the end of the meal; it serves a purpose, “to close the stomach,” as the French say. Probably, today we could say that the acids in cheese aid in digestion while creating a feeling of fullness. At your next encounter, ask the Girlfriend about the French Cheese Cure.

Similarly, Intimes among you, loyal Audience, will recall for years we have said one should not expect to eat anything memorable in France except French food – there are corn kernels and over-easy eggs on pizza in Italian restaurants!! – but if there is a positive side to globalization, one can taste it today in Paris, even at a cocktail dînatoire. This evening of celebration we were served typical French canapés – hot and cold – but far from tasteless, crudités with three sauces, sushi, tapas, and brochettes of chicken and of shrimp. Typically French, the end of the food service was signaled with a large cheese platter and the end of the evening, with orange juice (every proper bourgeois French household has a ‘good’ orange juice service – a large pitcher and 6 tall glasses – for use at the end of an evening; the host or hostess brings this service out on a platter, offers everyone a glass of juice and the guests know it is time to collect their coats and leave!).

And this evening, not only were the canapés not tasteless, apropos of our previous comment about ethnic food in Paris, the tapas were probably the most interesting offering. Many were served in individual tiny plastic cups or spoons, all were bite-sized and wonderfully spiced. We could have leaned on a bar, drunk inexpensive red Spanish wine and eaten these all evening, but this was not to be! It was a cocktail party after all, and it is our duty, as an American, to get out there and chat up the room. So, glass in hand, we attempted to perform our patriotic duty.

Ah, you ask, what was in that glass? There was a lot of champagne, and in magnums. You, dear Audience will remember how much we love magnums. And certainly there was red wine – a 2005 Hautes-Côtes de Nuits. Of course, you need to know that we were 80 – 90 guests, and we all remember that 2005 was a phenomenal year for red Burgundies, but many of us think that this year might be better left in a dark cellar for the time being. Nevertheless, we were not awash in ignorance; heavens, we were at a reception in France.

As the night wore on, we noted several ‘distinguished’ gentlemen with empty glasses circling a corner of the buffet table. We inserted ourselves into their flight pattern and inquired of their plan. Apparently, there were several potentially worthwhile bottles sitting on the side ‘waiting’ for the right moment. We, being of deep and significant bonds to Princess P, took it upon ourselves to entertain her guests and tire-bouchon (corkscrew) in hand, we inquired which to open. Obviously some discussion had already taken place as the answer was immediate – the 1991 Pauillac. One of the gentlemen, Mr. Bordelais, pointed out that although it is often a good policy in Bordeaux to buy good wines in off years to have fair prices, this bottle might be past its prime.

We pulled the cork, took a sniff of the bottle and knew his prediction was correct. The bottle was completely oxidized and spoiled, madeirized, even if that adjective is used most correctly with white wines and most probably, as the name implies, to describe ‘cooking’ from improper storage. The wine had not turned to vinegar and could be drunk, just not by us. This prompted a young son-in-law, eager to please, to fetch a magnum from Spain that he had brought along to share. The evening was late and long, our excuse for remembering only that the wine was a 2003 Rioja. When poured, it offered the typically sharp nose and taste of Rioja, but with lingering notes in the mouth that made one take notice of it promise. It took some time to open in the glass, but upon doing so the fullness of the wine was more apparent. Sadly, as we, dear Audience, know, magnums take twice as long to mature as traditional bottles, and this one probably could have benefitted from a few more years in the dark but it was an interesting counterpoint to a night of French wines.

With only a bit more frivolity (and a little single-malt nightcap), the Prince Consort demanded to be taken back to the Onzième so we said our goodbyes, but not before inviting the eager son-in-law, his step-father-in-law and Mr. Bordelais to come and degust with us the next day, Saturday, over lunch.

Close of the first leg of the run!

A Past Dinner

We've decided to slide back in time for a moment just to recall a delightful dinner at home in the Onzieme with the Prince Consort, the Chef Cousin, La Serveuse, and His Nibs. Jokingly we will often say that food, certainly a planned meal, is only a foil for wine to be served, and when eating with the Chef Cousin, that is of the utmost truth.

The weekend before this dinner, we had attended with the CC the Salon des Vins des Vignerons Indépendants in Paris. Loyal readers will remember our reminisces on this salon last year. At that event, the CC had purchased a bottle of Riesling Sélection de Grains Nobles. Naturally, it is a wine from Alsace, made from 100% Riesling grapes. It is a sweeter wine, not as sweet as a Sauterne, and not really a dessert wine. Riesling is a light wine that carries a fruity nose combined with flowers. It always makes us think of springtime.

Sélection de Grains Nobles means it is made from grapes specifically chosen because they are beginning to exhibit a certain type of rot, 'Noble Rot' as it has been called in English, which elevates the sugar level in the individual grapes. Unlike Vendages Tardives (late harvest) which is made from grapes left on the vine late into the season that have begun to dry slightly, a phenomenon which increases the sugar content in the grape simply because the amount of water in the grape is diminished, Grains Nobles maintain the signature nose and flavor of the Riesling with a slightly increased level of sugar.

The CC had alerted us to the fact that he planned to bring this bottle for dinner, and we decided to create a massive spread of hors d’oeuvres as the foil for this Riesling. The wine was lovely, the sweetness was an appetizing beginning to what would prove to be a long meal, and the fruitiness simply sang in the mouth. For hors d’oeuvres we had found ready-to-bake traditional Burgundian stuffed escargots and despite lacking a proper pan in which to cook them we bought a dozen and baked them in a casserole dish with gros sel spread over the bottom. The salt won’t burn and the snails are supported so they do not fall over and loose all that yummy garlic and parsley sauce. We always eat several in honor of Her Grottiness.

There were also several spreads, olives, and crackers. The Riesling went quickly and we moved on to another white wine, not as particular but well done at the same time, a 2001 Montagny 1er Cru, Domaine des Champs de Bey, Le Vieux Château. We’ve discussed this wine before so we won’t bore you again; mind you however, dear Reader, that 2001 is an excellent year for Montagny 1er Cru. We have tried several different domains', all to good result.

Finally to table for the first course: scallops on a bed of fennel and shallots sautéed in Argan oil with a bit of broth made from sauce fumet, the French fish equivalent of bouillon cube (aren’t those French clever?!). Argan oil is made from a plant that grows on the edge of the desert in Morocco. The fruit, the seeds…? (I am still not sure) are pressed to produce an oil that when you smell its light but distinctive odor you think of the finest couscous restaurant into which you have ever entered. Apparently the production of the oil is one of the first women’s-centered equitable commerce efforts in Northern Africa. The Prince Consort’s sister brought the vial back from vacation.

With the scallops we drank a 2000 Puligny-Montrachet 1er Cru Les Folatières, Olivier Leflaive. Puligny-Montrachet is typically a beautiful white wine, all Chardonnay, of course, and this premier cru was no exception. The color was a deep yellow with tinges of green along the edges. The nose was full of spring orchard flowers (think about the odor of apple blossoms), light minerals and the desirable musk. In the mouth, the wine was “very rich” as my notes say, filled with the taste of the minerals in the soil in Puligny and the blossoms have left the faint taste of their fruit, full and lingering in the mouth. A beautiful wine.

I would be amiss if I did not say something about Olivier Leflaive. From an old Burgundian family, Olivier struck off on his own as négociant, a buyer rather than a grower of grapes, outside of the family domain in 1984. He quickly established a reputation for quality with his white wines. Now he controls several hectare of vineyards but continues to buy grapes from growers with whom he has had long relationships. His employees supervise the entire production – the harvests are done by hand and the fermentation is in barrels – from beginning to bottling. His wines often command a premium but those we have tasted have been worth the extra. We would be further amiss if we did not point out that The Girlfriend introduced us to Leflaive.

The scallops were followed with a small pasta course – cream sauce, sautéed leeks, raisins plumped in a Tunisian fig liquor. The pasta was an artisanal form, flat with rippled edges, long like spaghetti but broader, although not as broad as lasagna. I am sure that the Country Lady or the A-Girl could tell us the name. Read the comments later, dear Audience, I am sure you will be rewarded. This course was imagined to back up a 1999 Corton-Charlemagne Grand Cru, Domaine Bouchard Père & Fils. Now of course we all know that Charlemagne is white (to protect his beard from stains), and Bouchard is a centuries-old domain known in New York primarily for the cheaper wines they produce from grapes or even pressed juice they buy in the region.

We recently learned that this domain makes excellent grand and premier crus from grapes it actually grows in parcelles that it owns. It is one of these ‘special’ wines that we found by accident in a large French supermarket, similar to Wal-Mart, by checking on the top shelf in the wine section, behind all the other bottles! Luckily the French are shorter than we and this bottle had lasted there long enough to be priced reasonably for its age and quality. We’ve noted that if the village wine is good, the Premier Cru stands to be better and the Grand Cru, great. This Charlemagne did not disappoint; it was rich, full and hyper-interesting. The fruit was present as was the muskiness and minerality. However, we observed that it could have been older, perhaps as much as 7 years older. That age probably would have given a better development to the spice and honey that we appreciate in a wine such as this one.

Honestly, the remainder of the meal was not as memorable. The main course was pork in a light sauce, cooked in a sauté pan. Interestingly, in NYC I seem to cook all the meat in the oven, in Paris, it’s all stovetop, don’t know why. There was a 1998 Fixin 1er Cru Clos du Chapitre Domaine Guy Dufouleur with this course and the cheese. Fixin is another of our favorites, and one we’ve discussed before (review your notes, loyal Readers). Domaine Dufouleur has a Monopole on the Clos du Chapitre and year after year makes an elegant wine that we always enjoy drinking.

Many of you are wondering, “How could they, given this opportunity, not drink another red with the cheese course?” Well, frankly, it would have been over-kill. La Serveuse drinks very little (she is the designated driver, lovely thing) and His Nibs and the Prince Consort had fallen short at the end of the white wines. Besides, this gave us a chance to taste again the Charlemagne and the Puligny. Loyal Readers remember, we’re sure, our frequent chastising of American friends for drinking whites too cold, and retasting these two wines at room temperature was excellent proof of our belief. The Charlemagne was still too young, but the real magic of Laflaive’s work was fully apparent in the Puligny. So full of flavor it was simply explosive.

We’ll close on an anecdote, an exchange with the Country Lady who has had the pleasure to eat at the CC’s restaurant, Restaurant de La Cordonnerie on the rue Saint Roch in Paris. She expressed amazement tending on fear over the idea of cooking for the CC. In reality, he is easy to entertain, happy to eat anything and try new tastes. Our problem is always what to pour in his glass. That is the most difficult problem when entertaining someone who spends several weekends per year in Bourgogne. We hope that at this meal we succeeded!

Eat well, drink wisely!

Later, Much Later

Once again we have failed in our role in your life, dear Audience, as scribe of eating and drinking. We haven’t even been travelling much but to Paris regularly, of course

We cannot say that we have been distracted by the forecoming, but we would be amiss if we did not point you, loyal readers, toward a new addition to the World Wide Web. His Nibs, somewhat recently chomaged (‘unemployed,’ to those of us on the western coast of the Atlantic Ocean), has been trying to return to his artistic roots now that he finds himself with much free time. As a result, when we are not demanding his services as a chauffeur to the Parisian suburbs and the physical address of our most favored virtual auction site to collect lovely bottles that we degust and share with you, Brave Followers among the Audience, His Nibs has been creating things.

The most intimes of those of you, cher Audience, may recall that His Nibs’ true training was not to sell American sirens and police lightbars into the French police and atomic reactor market but to be a fine art framer in the “old world” sense – beautiful moldings, exquisite papers, etc. – and he has always had a fine sense of detail. All said, he is now making marvelous objects that one wants to own or at least give as gifts. We think everyone must put down pens, pause the note-taking and visit His Nibs’ new blog site:

http://jpgcreations.blogspot.com/

Typically, it is all in French and there are no tags, descriptions or prices, but with only a small amount of encouragement, we are sure he will make those adjustments. Do be sure to bookmark this page.

Where to continue, when chronological order has been tossed out… Well, an easy segue way may be to a dinner prepared by His Nibs. If you remember, as I am sure you do, HN’s fanatical attention to detail, you can imagine that he is an excellent cook. Not one to prepare simple dishes, nor to create casual dinners, HN often creates in the kitchen with game hunted and prepped by his father.

This particular evening we were six and the dinner began with basic hors d’oeuvres and vodka-tonics or a glass of Champagne before we moved to table. Since we have commandeered a large portion of His Nibs’ cave, or basement storage space, in which to guard the wine that you, Loyal Followers, enjoy Stateside, it is our job to choose the wines for dinner, from the aforementioned cave, needless to say.

The first course was a pheasant terrine with toast. It was lightly ‘gamey,’ more of a 'fowl-y' taste, if you will, than heavy game. We had recently discovered in our local supermarket a delightful 2005 Chablis produced by l’Union des Viticulteurs de Chablis, a cooperative producing Chablis for small grower/members in the Chablis region. It was crisp, steely with typical Chablisienne minerality. For an equivalent price of about $11 dollars, we bought all the shop had. This balanced nicely the earthy terrine.

The main course was a roasted pheasant stuffed with wild mushrooms. Note what we mean by “not one to prepare simple dishes..”? To serve with this we had opened in advance a bottle of red 1990 Auxey-Duresses. This bottle was totally unknown to us to the degree we did not even know why we had purchased what could have been a bottle past its prime (1990 is a ‘reach’ for a bottle that is not a premier cru but only a simple village appellation). We did not even know the domain. All that was known was that Auxey-Duresses is an appellation from a village on the Côte de Beaune very near to Meursault.

This evening we were rewarded, however, and the bottle was definitely not past. His Nibs does not own an appropriate wine carafe (mental note!) so we had simply used the ‘splash’ method – pour briskly into large wine glasses allowing air to mix as one pours – and it opened beautifully.

The nose carried the powerful muskiness much prized in older Burgundies, the color was a deep red with a slight tinge of rusty brown at the edges of the glass. In the mouth, the fruit was full and ripe with light spices that rested on the tongue after swallowing. It was a wine to be savored slowly as most of the tannins had aged away and there was little structure left. It proved to be an excellent surprise and we were disappointed that the others appreciated it as well (that meant less for us). Luckily, there are 5 more bottles in the cave.

The cheese course was simply a slab of Comté with baguette and I had chosen a 1985 Savigny-les-Beaune 1er Cru La Dominode, by Bonnet. All of you, dear Audience, have read my thoughts on this wine from various years. It is rich but elegant, heavier than the Auxey but not overly complex. Always a wise and enjoyable choice!

It was January, near the time of Epiphany, so dessert was the traditional galette des Rois, a simple pastry filled with frangipane, an almond paste, in which a small prize has been secreted. The person served the slice with the prize is the Roi and must wear the paper crown sold with the galette. Luckily this evening, I was not crowned.

Time to sleep!

DINNER AT HOME

Historically, in our role as Tribal Leader, we have created evenings that fed and nourished, in more ways than one, our loving entourage. More recently, with much time spent in Paris, entertaining in New York has been neglected. Therefore, the combination of the purchase of great quantities of new china and a desire to provide our intimes with an opportunity to taste some of the wines about which we are blogging has produced a flurry of small to medium-sized dinners in that jewel box of an apartment so coldly nicknamed, by the Internet Sugar Daddy, the Cat Litter Box.

One of these dinners took place Saturday night in honor of an overnight business trip to the Big Apple by our favorite residents of Denver, the Osmotics. Now as many of our closest among the Audience will know, much good food and wine has been consumed with the Osmotics who are among those with the highest tolerance for eating and drinking for sport that we know. However, they had never eaten in the Cat Litter Box, and although they had ordered some wine, we also had never degusted with them. All in all, the time had come.

Typically we view dinner and the food served as a foil against which to unfurl various wines and that was exactly the plan on Saturday. This was the third of a short series of dinners (yes, you will hear about the others) during which we had perfected the creation, the presentation and the flow of courses that allow a great many wines to be drunk in one evening!

The soiree starts with hors d’oeuvres and wine, no cocktails. This evening was tapenade, green olives stuffed with a light blue cheese and cashews. The Prince Consort would be surprised as he insists we always lay out too many hors d’oeuvres; I say, “No need to eat everything.” but the reality is that Saturday we forgot to buy some of the spreads we enjoy as starters! The starter wines this evening were a 2005 Jurançon, a white vin de l’aperitif, slightly sweet, served very cold and, for the less adventurous, a 2001 Montagny 1er Cru, a white Burgundy from the Côte Chalonnaise, almost to Macon. It has a good mineral structure overlaid with significant fruit and is well balanced. Although we’ve never had a Montagny older than this, several younger but none older, the balance of fruit and mineral is so good that this appears to be a great age at which to consume this wine.

Our dinner was to have included another couple who could not attend but sent instead a magnum of Champagne with a personalized note! How does one do that? The bottle was from a shop nearby the Cat Litter Box yet far from their apartment and the note was perfect. We have not perfected the art of choosing and sending flowers by telephone and yet they managed Champagne and a note.

Anyway, the Champagne was quite special. We are a great fan of good Champagne and an enormous fan of magnums – they are so festive and when filled with Champagne, double the festivities. This one was by Champagne Jacquesson, a Chardonnay, Pinot Meunier and Pinot Noir mix. The maker also proudly notes that this production gave rise to 328,826 bottles, 12,050 magnums and 300 jeroboams! The Champagne was excellent as an aperitif – beautifully structured with light mineral, cool florals and a crisp almost steely taste. Even 24 hours after opening, the beauty was still apparent.

Now to table, where we sat down to a cream of wild mushroom soup garnished with a Parmesan crisp and black truffle oil. This course was chosen to support a 1999 Meursault, Le Limozin by Domaine Dujac. Interestingly enough, in Paris, we’d recently bought in a dozen 1999 Meursault, Le Limozin by Domaine Eric Boussey. We had tried it just before returning and were interested to compare. The Dujac was purchased in NYC at Park Avenue Wines, a great shop with no snobbery, a beautiful assortment and a broad, fairly priced selection of older Burgundies.

Meursault is a very particular wine that often upon opening makes us think it is corked. Apparently the parcelle, Le Limozin, accentuates this aroma because it was strong in both the Dujac and the Boussey bottles. Past that initial thought, the wine is heavy and clinging in the mouth. As it warms, the particular muskiness of Burgundies from this area becomes more evident but mixes with honey aromas and heavy white floral notes. With the thick and smoky wild mushroom flavor of the soup, the Meursault was an excellent choice.

The main course was pork roast. We find it easy to prepare – pop in a hot oven for some period of time and when you think of it again, pull it out and slice it. Naturally it needs to be seasoned with something and Saturday the natural thing seemed to be a bit of black bean salsa found in the fridge. Accompanying the roast were simple roasted spears of asparagus. All this planned to support a red 1998 Fixin 1er Cru, Clos de Chapitre Monopole, Domaine Guy Dufouleur.

Fixin is a beautiful delicate red wine and we greatly appreciate Dufouleur who coaxes so much finesse and subtlety from this elegant wine in many different millisimes. The use of the word “Monopole” after the name signifies that Dufouleur is the owner of the entire parcelle Clos de Chapitre. In the beginning, one can imagine that parcelles, or fields, were each owned by one person. Over time inheritance, marriage, debts, war and land sales divided them into small parts each owned by different people. It is rare when one person or entity controls an entire parcelle, but doing so gives one the right to use the moniker “Monopole” on the wine label.

The Fixin is so delicate despite its age it does not need to be carafed. We simply ‘splash’ it into large Burgundy glasses and it opens. With the pork and asparagus, it just sang. The nose carries that signature musk (we describe it as the smell of dirty gym socks!) and in the mouth there are red fruits that give way to warm spices and honey. Remember that tasting wine is a very personal experience. What we find in a 10-year old Burgundy may not be what someone else tastes. That is part of the beauty of it all! We could drink Burgundies like this Fixin always; what the French describe as féminin is a characteristic of a type of Burgundy that we adore.

Following the Fixin and through the cheese course were two different Savigny-Vergelesses both by Roger Bonnet. We bought the first of several different millisimes we now own not knowing much about Savigny but quickly learned they were worth drinking! Savigny is a reasonable but not distinguished appellation in the Côte de Beaune, and many of you, dear Audience, have heard of Savigny-les-Beaune, another Savigny. Remember that they are all grown in a village slightly smaller than the Manhattan neighborhood of Chelsea, but each field will have a slightly different terroir and each wine will have a slightly different taste. To the best of our knowledge, Bonnet has stopped producing wines and perhaps those that we bought were auctioned with the closing of the domain.

Saturday night a 1989 and a 1988 1er Cru were poured. We noted what we had previously thought at an earlier occasion when tasting these two wines together: we don’t find much difference. Both are slightly more complex than the Fixin but still fin and elegant. They need to be carafed for a bit before serving and continue to open in the glass. As with many old Burgundies, and these are 20 years old, the complexities created by the tannins or the minerality of the wine has mellowed and balanced with the fruit producing a ‘warm’ taste of spice, honey and musk. The aroma often carries the scent of alcohol, perhaps the first odor to rise from the freshly open wine but in the mouth it is round and pleasing. Personally, we continue to note also that we prefer the 1989 to the ’88 Premier Cru.

Dinner finished with a dense chocolate torte with a fresh mango sauce prepared by the A-Girl. The Savigny continued to evolve and was delightful with the chocolate. Another guest had brought Argentinean chocolates, Havannets – peaks of dulce de leche paste on small round cookies and totally covered in milk chocolate. A couple of these with a small glass of a rum aged with a vanilla bean found in Tahiti by the A-Girl and the evening was capped!

Bon nuit!

UPDATES AND ADVICE

It is a month since we wrote that last entry, even if we did just post it. Part of the delay can be attributed to trying to remember what we ate at Le Montrachet, including asking the Prince Consort. “Je ne sais pas,” was his answer, but loyal readers among the Audience probably knew that already; he says it often! The other portion of the delay… oh, laziness, mea culpa, mea culpa!

Despite not completing our side of this unspoken agreement (informing you, our loyal Audience, of our eating and drinking), we have been eating and drinking. However, before we weave you back into our fabulous story, some reality. Last night, the Personal Historian cooked dinner for us and a friend of his. The PH asked about our holdings of Loire Valley wine, and when we quizzed him on this, he admitted to liking wines with more minerality than the wines from the middle of Burgundy – Puligny, Montrachet, etc. – but with less austerity and more fruit and flower than a Chablis.

Within these requirements, we strongly suggested white wines from the southern reaches of Burgundy – Rully, Saint-Aubin, Mercurey, and the Macon group – because the geography offers something very specific here. Southern Burgundy is closer to the mountain range in France known as the Massif Central. Millions of years ago, volcanic forces forming these mountains pushed levels of rock to the surface, rock from the same period, surprisingly, as the surface rock in Chablis. Careful readers in the Audience will remember that the make-up of the soil, including the chemical characteristics of the rocks in the soil (all that the French so concisely label “terroir”) determines the minerality of Burgundian wine.

Now, at the same time, the fact that these ‘southern’ Burgundies – Rullies, Macons, etc. – are south of Chablis, with different exposure, potentially longer daily sun, warmer temperatures, even if they are only 50 to 100 miles from Chablis, means that the grapes develop differently and produce a different juice when pressed. From this difference arrive the fruit and flowers balancing the minerality.

Rereading our explanation above, we are more intrigued by Burgundy than before. Unlike so many wines, Burgundy is made from one grape. Pinot Noir for the red and Chardonnay for the white. This tradition disallows adjusting ratios of different grapes to produce a consistent product year after year. It also calls the terroir into full display with each bottle of Burgundy.

We enjoy defending this theorem by offering a degustation of two or three different wines, different appellations, created by the same producer. For example: Puligny-Montrachet, Meursault and Saint-Aubin produced by Leflaive. Same grape – Chardonnay, same producer – Olivier Leflaive, but dramatically different wines. Incredible, just incredible. Not to mention how much we enjoy drinking good wine, but you knew that already, didn’t you dear Audience.

To close out this post, a bit of technical advice. N’inquiétez pas, don't worry, it is not technical advice from us, but from the Great Communicator. Recently at dinner (and yes you will read about this dinner soon, we promise), following an enlightening soliloquy of ours on the virtues of Burgundy, the Country Lady and the Great Communicator discussed this blog. Both mentioned that they had posted comments that never appeared when suddenly the Great Communicator remembered that she had heard previewing a comment to a Google-hosted blog, such as ours, prior to posting, deleted the comment instead of posting it. The secret is to review the comment (for appropriateness and succinctness, of course!) in the Compose window and Post directly without Preview.

Who knew?! Fascinating, isn’t it? And all along, we thought the only commentator was His Nibs when in reality, he, being French and therefore seeing himself and his actions as inherently perfect, naturally posted his comment directly without preview! Mind the wisdom of the Great Communicator.

Read, Drink, and Comment!

WEEKEND IN BURGUNDY, Evening in the Restaurant

So, as we mentioned earlier, we are sleeping in Puligny-Montrachet. The Chef Cousin and La Serveuse will sleep at a bed and breakfast owned by Ravault’s son and his daughter-in-law, whose parents are vintners also. They make wine south of Puligny, in the Côte Chalonnaise and make Mercurey, Rully, and Santenay. We and the Prince Consort have been referred to a neighboring bed and breakfast so off we head. Upon arriving we are pleasantly surprised to find that it is owned by a winemaking couple with whom we’ve recently become enamored – Guillemond-Clerc.

But we are late for dinner, so no dilly-dallying. Freshen up and off we go to dinner. Lo and behold, the Chef Cousin has booked us into one of the greats in this part of Burgundy – Le Montrachet. The restaurant is on the ground floor of a lovely looking inn. Speaking of this institution always makes the hearts of the Girlfriend and the Country Lady beat faster so we were pleased to have the opportunity to dine here.

We were shown to a large corner table in a dining room that must have been very grand maybe 10 years ago. It was not dirty, just comfortably used, and a bit drafty. In their defense, we must note that much of Burgundy closes for the late winter and it may be that at the end of a ten month season the room was simply ready to be freshened.

While we perused the menu, we opted for wine rather than cocktails and the CC asked for a recommendation of a white that was “refreshingly mineral-y but greasy,” a positive description in French and describing white wine that expresses the heavy limestone content of the soil but with a rounder, fuller and more lingering expression in the mouth than, say, a Chablis. Typically, the wines fitting this description are produced in the southern regions of Burgundy – Rully, Montagny, St. Aubin.

Indeed, we drank first a 2005 Saint-Aubin 1er Cru En Remilly Domaine Langoureau. It was perfect to start after the long afternoon of degustation; the minerality refreshed the mouth but the complexity of the wine seemed to hang there and develop with time. A wine like this should not be drunk very cold and this one’s temperature allowed us to savor it.

Time to order – we took, with the CC, a menu, a set number of courses including starter, main course, cheese and dessert. The Prince Consort and La Serveuse ordered a starter and a main course each. The problem is that we are sitting here typing this while looking at the bill for the evening and it lists the dishes ordered a la carte but not those on the menu, and we cannot remember what we ate.

It sounds crazy, and we will admit to being “pre-Alzheimer’s,” but the real problem was, in a Michelin-starred restaurant, dinner was lackluster. Our first thought was that the chef-de-cuisine was not in the kitchen that evening, but perhaps the problem was, with Burgundy closing down for the winter vacation, he had already departed for points warmer.

We can remember that La Serveuse had a pumpkin soup with langoustine followed by roasted tenderloin of lamb. The Prince Consort had tourteau en millefeuille, or crab salad millefeuille, and roasted rabbit in a mustard sauce. With our first courses we drank a half-bottle of 2001 Saint-Romain Domaine Alain Gras, because we were headed to the village of Saint-Romain on Sunday and Alain Gras is considered one of the finest producers of Saint-Romain. It was very similar to the Saint-Aubin but with a more pronounced minerality that surrounded the fruitiness rather than balancing it. However, a five year old half-bottle will have aged significantly more than a full bottle of 2005 and that maturity will have greatly evolved the Saint-Romain.

With our main courses we drank a red 1998 Auxey-Duresses Hospices de Beaune. We felt it had passed its prime. One would normally think not, but this one was dull and uninteresting. The wine list was good and specific – centered on the Côte de Beaune – and although the sommelier had been dead on target with his first recommendation of the Saint-Aubin, he seemed to loose focus as the evening progressed. The praise he gave this Auxey lead us to believe he had not tasted it in some time.

The cheese cart was excellent. Full with the bounty of ripe Burgundian cheese, it tempted even the Prince Consort to partake. With the passage of time, the Auxey had opened slightly, but if it needed that breathing space then the sommelier should have suggested carafing it. Dessert next – elaborate confections of chocolate, spun sugar, handmade sorbet, and, on the CC’s, a ‘wheel’ of dried sliced apple. They were beautiful to behold but remained less than hoped.

At this point we ordered a half-bottle of white 1997 Chevalier Montrachet Chateau Puligny, partially because the CC said he had never tasted one and when in Montrachet do as the Montrac….., oh whatever. Chevalier Montrachet is a Grand Cru and the Chardonnay grapes used in its production all come from one individual parcelle as do those used in each of the other Grand Cru – Montrachet, Batard-Montrachet, and Bienvenues-Batard-Montrachet.

This wine was really sublime. Normally we would want a Grand Cru to be a bit more mature, but, again, in the half-bottle, it had aged well. The color was a deep golden; the nose was very complex, filled warm spices and reminisces of warm bread. In the mouth, there was the feeling of drinking the aroma, only the expression of the complexity of the aroma on the tongue and the beauty of wonderfully balanced wine.

Coffee, petits-fours et mignardises finished the meal. Again, nothing extraordinary but not bad. There was no smoking in the restaurant; that was new! We paid and headed back to our beds. Unfortunately, at our bed and breakfast, we had been locked out of the courtyard and had to bang on the gate until the mistress of the house ran out in her nightgown to open up for us. If you remember, as you surely will, loyal Audience, our notes from the Salon des Vignerons Independents in Paris, we described her as “looking like [a] throw-back[s] to the ‘80s including her carefully applied heavy blue eye shadow and bleach blonde hair.” so you can picture this image on a cold midnight.

Okay, get some sleep. Tomorrow starts early!

WEEKEND IN BURGUNDY, Afternoon in the Caves

So allow us to set the scene: end of January, -4°C or 28°F, some sun but mostly grey, and humid. In this weather we arrive at the first of the Chef Cousin’s suppliers, Gaston et Pierre Ravaut. Diligent readers will remember tasting notes following the Paris degustation on the peniche at the Club des Vignerons Laureats and we have not much to add to those, although taste more we did. Now caves in Burgundy are basements – underground with concrete floors and filled with wooden barrels and stacked bottles. They are damp and cold even in the summertime.

But there was a task at hand, dear Audience, and we did not shirk from our responsibility. A responsibility that ran for about three hour, but we did discover two wines we had left off our wish list (filed in early January with the Chef Cousin who places a large order each year with this producer). The first was Ravault’s Corton Bressandes Grand Cru 2005. We are sure to have tasted it in Paris, we never miss the opportunity to slosh some Grand Cru, but perhaps following on all the Ladoix and Aloxe Corton, it did not register.

However, in a serious degustation, one always tastes in the same order – from lightest to heaviest or least complex to most. Therefore, this being a serious degustation, we did start with the lightest and work our way up to the heaviest. At Ravault, that meant Ladoix (village appellation), Ladoix 1er Cru (three different), Aloxe Corton (village), Aloxe 1er Cru, and then the two Corton Grand Crus. A lot of wine served one small glassful after another. You sniff, swirl, sniff, swirl, sip, slosh, spit and repeat but DON'T swallow. Again today we tasted their Corton Grand Cru Les Hautes Mourottes and Corton Grand Cru Bressandes. And this time the Bressandes 2005 sang to us. It was added to the mental wish list.

We can feel your thoughts: “Why does this bit of spitting take three hours?” Such an excellent question, fair Audience, and the response is simple. We were tasting 2005’s that had been bottled recently and 2006’s that were still in the barrels and tanks. So there were two of each wine. Remember that traditionally in Burgundy red wine is not bottled until about 18 months after the harvest. At Ravault, roughly half of the production is aged in oak barrels, of which a small percentage are new each year, and the other half is aged in large metal tanks. Prior to bottling the barreled wine is mixed with the wine aged in tanks to give the taste that Ravault seeks in their wines.

So we tasted reds in this manner but the white wine we tasted was all 2006 in bottles because unlike red wine, white is bottled soon after the harvest. Ravault’s production of white is somewhat limited; they make only four: two are regional – an Aligote and a Chardonnay; one is a village – a Ladoix; one is Grand Cru – Corton Charlemagne. It was while tasting the whites that we discovered the second wine we had left off our wish list. More accurately, it was the Prince Consort who suggested that the 2006 Ladoix white should be on that list. Oops, another on that mental list we are maintaining.

Finishing at Ravault, late, we ride off in the Chef Cousin’s 4x4 along the dirt farm roads to the second of the caves we were to visit today - Pierre Marey et Fils. Again a supplier of the CC, and a cave we have visited several times. Marey is a 5-10 minute ride from Ravault, but it is several villages away. Marey is located in the village of Pernand-Vergelesses which is the only village that offers in both white and red wines, Grand Cru, Premier Cru, Village and Regional. There is a very nice page on a domain’s website with interesting tidbits about Pernand, in English. The address is: http://www.dubreuil-fontaine.com/pernand/

Well, Marey is also a different sort of cave in that there is a degustation room and that is all one visits. Upside: it is slightly heated! We are particularly fond of Marey's Pernands – red and white – and have purchased them on several occasions. We have also developed recently a small passion for white Pernand that has a bit of age on it. With time, this wine develops the most interesting notes of honey and spice over the fresh white flower that is present from the first day. In fact, Ravault’s Ladoix aside, we prefer the whites at Marey and Marey’s Pernand aside, the reds at Ravault, so we took the opportunity to purchase some red 2005 Pernand 1er Cru, white 2006 Pernand, and 2006 Corton Charlemagne Grand Cru (naturally you remember, dear Audience, that all Charlemagne is white!).

Oh, there are two serious notes of business to relay. We would be bereft in our duties if we did not report word from Marey concerning their 2004 vintage which we own. “Drink it.” was his comment! Now there are vintage guides that rank, by year and region, wines, and for some years there are as many different opinions as one can wish. However, one year is consistently similar in various charts – 2004, not so great. The other note of business, gentle Audience, 2005 was a stellar year for red Burgundies, mixed maybe for whites, but 2006 is a very good year for whites in the region. Buy ‘em if ya can!

Now we’re late for everything else. We’ve been booked into two different bed and breakfasts because one, run by a son and daughter-in-law of the Ravault’s (this region is so incestuous it makes Appalachia look mundane) was full. The CC and La Serveuse will stay there and we will stay in another but both are in another village south of Beaune, Puligny Montrachet. Phone calls are made to alert the B&B’s and our dinner reservation that we’re delayed and off we go.

Rest up because the evening is full of suprises!

WEEKEND IN BURGUNDY, Lunch in Beaune

So this past weekend we went to Burgundy. We went with the Chef Cousin, La Serveuse and the Prince Consort. Traveling with this gang, you, dear Audience, can imagine we did not take a drive to look at the scenery.

Quick thinking, as there was little opportunity to leaf-gaze. With the Prince Consort, we had been at dinner late the night before (little to report except for the Champagne – Piper–Heidsieck Rosé Savage – very dry with much flavor of red fruits and small bubbles) and had to wake up early to arrive at the Chef Cousin’s by 9am. The drive to Beaune from Paris is not long, only about two to two and a half hours. The autoroute, heading southeast, rises through the western side of the hills that create the Côtes des Nuits and Beaune.

As we drove it got colder and the sides of the road were covered with heavy frost. Every valley was filled with a thick white fog that eliminated all views. The temperature fell rapidly from that of relatively toasty Paris sitting in its little smog bowl, to a chilly -8°C or 17°F. Now those intimes among the Audience will remember that we always warn “don’t visit Paris for the weather,” and one seasonal reason is the winter humidity. A long way of saying that the “Real Feel Temperature” was less than the stated.

But, no fear, we were also not outside long. Beaune is the heart of this part of Burgundy. A lovely small city, it always reminds us of Bordeaux in its architectural style (excepting of course those typical Burgundian roof tiles) and the sense of deeply quiet money. Yes, MONEY! The wine business, in good years, pumps large amounts of money into the local economy much like Wall Street’s production for NYC; however, unlike investment bankers, these producers view themselves as farmers so rather than exotic autos and 9,000 square feet mansions, one sees large French cars and neat, comfortable houses gracefully enlarged from the time of their grandparents.

Quiet money aside, it was time for lunch. Nothing elaborate, just a café for something to coat our stomachs before the upcoming degustations! The city center place is lined with cafés and wine bars (quelle surprise!); we chose one and installed ourselves at a table with the dog. Yes, the dog, and not a lap dog but a William Wegman-type Weimaraner, beautiful but large. Dogs in restaurants, don’t you love France! Speaking of loving France, something was missing from this café… ah, ashtrays and cigarettes. Beginning in early 2008, it became interdit, forbidden, to smoke in any public place in France. I think I like it, but I am withholding final judgment; it may be cigarette smoke that gives French cuisine that certain je ne sais quoi.

Sitting down to eat this weekend, the wine list will matter as much as the menu. At lunch, it was a great chance to drink by the glass and taste several different wines. Cafés that have decent wines are often a good place to taste because generally the wine has been open long enough to breathe a bit but turn-over normally insures that it won’t have gone bad. The Chef Cousin ordered us Meursault 2003 Vielle Vignes. Avid and alert in the Audience will note two key points in that title – '2003' and 'Vielle Vignes.' 2003 was the heat wave year which concentrated flavors in the grapes and vielle vignes, old vines, also produce grapes with more intense flavor. The double whammy or snake-eyes? It remains to be seen!

In the glass this white wine was a deep golden color with a slight tint of green; in the nose, the musky odor much prized in Burgundy was intense, almost overpowering; in the mouth, the flavor was heavy and the muskiness expressed itself as cork. The Prince Consort, intensely fond of white Burgundies, found this one worth every sip. We, on the other hand, found it simply too much as an apéritif; further along, with food, it improved.

The first course arrived. We had ordered escargots. We see it as our personal duty to eat as many escargots in Burgundy as possible and always the first one in honor of Mrs. Sausage (Her Grottiness) for her passion. These were simple, baked in the shells with a traditional parsley and garlic butter. Not the best, not bad, but that garlic was strong. Here the intense Meursault came through with flying colors. It is no easy task to stand up to garlicky snails. Mark this as a point for food and wine pairing, pay attention Traditionalists.

Two others at the table had œufs a la meurotte – poached eggs over a bit of pastry or crust covered with sauce. Mmmm, this was the winner of the meal. The sauce was a light beef one with tiny soft pearl onions, the egg poached perfectly. Two at table followed this with steak tartare which was nicely prepared and accompanied by excellent frites. Two others had Italian! Imagine; it is practically impossible to get decent Italian in Paris, and in Beaune? Pizza with four cheeses and risotto with squid (and where is the nearby ocean to fish that squid?). We did not taste those dishes.

Accompanying this course were glasses of a white Saint-Romain, 2005 from Domaine Henri et Giles Buisson. Saint-Romain is an appellation issuing from a small village slightly southwest of Beaune and up in the hills. Actually half of the village is on top of a cliff and the other is at the bottom as if the hill had shifted one night and sheared the village into two. The wine was pale gold with a fruity nose, and in the mouth a light minerality and decent body. We were not displeased but sitting in the heart of Burgundy, one could do better. More on Saint-Romain later.

We were interested in tasting this wine because Saint-Vincent Tournante 2008 (the Festival of Saint-Vincent) was taking place in Saint-Romain this weekend, and tomorrow we were going to the festival to taste wines at the domains. Saint-Vincent is the patron saint of the vineyards and each year he is celebrated in a different village in Burgundy. Attendees buy ‘a glass’ meaning one buys a package of a glass and tickets to exchange at each domain for a taste of the local wine. Originally the festival raised money to provide healthcare and assistance for the winegrowers and their workers. Today, with universal healthcare in France, I am not sure what the money goes toward. Perhaps it paid for the hideous outdoor decorations everywhere in the village. Unbelievable, what happened to good French taste?

But now I have gotten ahead of myself and it is time to head off to the caves for some tastings. A tout a l’heure.

Breaking Resolutions

Oh, New Year’s Resolutions! We never make them because we can never keep them. Dear Audience and loyal readers will remember our last post where we resolved to be better about maintaining this blog. It is sad; we started that post in early January and only managed to put it online on 22 January.

And now we are starting the second post of the same day. But with the holidays receding in the rear-view mirror, and therefore, with many meals to describe, we must get on with it! We also want to address something else before it slips out of our mind - a comment from you, dear Audience, from great friends. We don’t receive many comments; actually, officially, we receive no comments.

Unofficially, we did hear the Girlfriend make a verbal comment the other day, a positive one touting the blog which was appreciated but did not surprise; loyal readers will remember that her encouragement is partially ‘to blame’ for this exciting blog. We also know that another close friend has Eating/Drinking/Traveling registered on her personal page at www.netvibes.com. Aside from tracking changes in this blog, we are not sure what it can do for you. Maybe the Country Lady will comment (officially) and let us all know why netvibes.com is worthwhile.

But, back to the comment on which we wish to comment. Our great friends, Mr. Sausage and Spouse (Her Grottiness), generously took the time to read posting after posting on the blog between Christmas and New Years. Their reaction was that they found it interesting but hard to follow unless you know the specific wines involved, and continued with the comment that “they’re impossible to find here [New York City] so it’s not like you can follow along as a reader by trying the same wines.”

At first read that seems correct, but in reality many of the wines we drink and discuss are available when they are younger in New York, at least the appellations are if not the specific domains. When they are older, and are ready to drink in our humble opinion, these wines remain available but in more limited quantities and often at very high prices in the US. However, dear Audience, thanks to our sometimes enviable position straddling the Atlantic Ocean, we occasionally have some ideas where one can find certain of these wines at more interesting prices. So as not to bore with mundane details, interested parties are welcome to email us at alawrence@victory-partners.com.

It is completely understandable that great imported wine ‘of a certain age’ is not readily available (even if the 'ladies' who drink it are so!) at reasonable prices in the US unlike in the country of origin. First of all, America has a byzantine system of alcohol importation based on regulation by both the Feds and individual states. In NY, there are licensed importers and distributors servicing the retail alcohol sellers – stores, bars and restaurants. NY is also a state where only one importer is allowed to import a brand. ‘Anti-competitive’ is not the correct legal term; perhaps someone, dear Audience, can write in with the phrase I am seeking.

These licensed importers buy wine when it is released from the vineyards, in other words, ‘very young.’ Now there are some French producers we know who keep a majority of their production at the vineyard to age, but they tend to be smaller producers using very specialized importers to distribute their wine if they export at all. More typically, the importers ship the wines stateside in large quantities and sell it immediately to distributors who resell to retailers with NY State Liquor Licenses. Few, if any, of the importers or the distributors have temperature and humidity controlled warehouses suitable for ageing wine. Living as many of us do in dry, overheated NYC apartments, we certainly understand how difficult it can be to create the conditions needed to age ‘gracefully.’

Additional to the space and technical requirements, there are the economic requirements of ageing wine. The cost of real estate is obvious and not to be forgotten is the cost of electricity, construction and maintenance, but the largest cost may be that of inventory. Decent young vintages can be purchased in volume for $15 – 20 per bottle total cost into the harbor. When we purchase a case for $240 it makes sense to put it down for a few years, but when an importer is buying a thousand cases of one wine for $240,000, a thousand cases of another and two thousand of a third, the cost of inventory becomes overwhelming, especially when the business model is importation.

Luckily for those of us, dear Audience, living in Manhattan apartments so filled with chic bibelots that even a small version of the increasingly available wine refrigerators (they now sell them at Target!) cannot be shoehorned into the space, there does exist condition-controlled wine storage for a reasonable-ish price – think in the neighborhood of one dollar a bottle per month or less. A well-known such storage is located under the Chelsea Markets; another in Long Island City.

A quick summary of tidbits shared here: keep up with blog posts as you best can; wine is always available and often at reasonable prices; keep our email handy; and storage can be costly – drink faster!