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!
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Monday, March 10, 2008
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!
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!
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!
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