Cask 79

Our first drink in California

2008-04-13T19:28:00.004-05:00

Stephanie has been doing an exceptional job with her newly re-branded blog. She has been promising that I would eventually contribute, but I've been too busy watching the Braves lose 1-run games.

Stephanie has filled everyone in on the food from the first day of our California trip, and I'm here to mention something about the booze. She informed you that we lunched at the Hog Island Oyster Co. in the Ferry Building. Over numerous plates of bivalves Jonathan and I have recently been discussing the numerous (and perhaps innumerable) beverages that pair well with oysters. Of course, champagne, chablis, and muscadet are favorites, but we both also enjoy the briny creatures with stouts (i.e. black, roasty beers).

Although it may seem an odd pairing, oysters and stout have been enjoyed together for centuries. In fact, some breweries have produced an "oyster stout" by combining the liquor from the oysters with the boiling wort (perhaps it was based on a bad pun or just a drunken accident, but it worked). As it happened, the HIOC had on tap the Oysterhead Stout from Magnolia Brewery in San Francisco. Like most modern versions, this one probably wasn't made with oyster liquor but was merely meant to accompany the shellfish. In any event, it worked well - medium-full bodied, with a roasty, slightly sweet palate. The beer's richness was a fine counterpoint to the crisp oysters, and it's the smart choice in these still-cool months. Save the champers and chablis for the months without Rs.

Chevaliers Lagrazette Cahors 1997

2007-11-11T19:13:00.000-06:00

We picked up a Bell & Evans duck from Whole Foods this weekend and found this interesting 10 year old wine to pair with it. Since I believe that duck legs and duck breasts require separate cooking methods, I chose to sauté the latter tonight and save the legs for a braise later in the week. I also made some wild rice with roasted chestnuts.

This is one of those wines that reminds me of Robert Ulin's book Vintages and Traditions. Ulen suggests how important the 1855 classification was to distinguishing and promoting the wines of Bordeaux from those of the rest of southwest France. Had the government not paid special attention to Bordeaux, we might all be drinking a lot more Cahors and Madiran and be no worse for it. Wines from Cahors are made mostly of Malbec (a grape that has reclaimed some notice thanks to Argentina), and, as this bottle demonstrates, they can often rival those from Bordeaux. Here's a decade old wine with plenty of grace and sophistication showing signs of maturity but still indicating a number of fruitful years ahead. It's medium-bodied and deep garnet. The classic signs of bottle age - leather, earth, wood - are still in balance with hints of red fruit and citrus and a tight but palatable tannic core. At $17, it would rival many classified growths.

Ridge Geyserville 2005

2007-11-09T20:05:00.001-06:00

Stephanie had a stressful week at work, so I tried to help her take the edge off with an excellent meal and a nice bottle of wine. The meal included braised country-style pork ribs in natural jus, potatoes sauteed in goose fat, and green beans. The wine was one of my favorite American bottlings, Ridge's Geyserville zinfandel blend.

The 2005 vintage celebrates the wine's 40th anniversary, indicating just how long Paul Draper has been exploring zinfandel's possibilities. The zin is blended, as usual, with small amounts of carinagne and petite sirah which, to my palate, make the wine more earthy and food friendly than most American zins. Looking back at my review of the 2004, there seems to be considerable similarity between vintages, although the newer wine has less tannin and acidity at its core. Look for big yet balanced dark fruit flavors and a controlled ripeness that always ensures the wine will go well with game, pork, duck, and Thanksgiving turkey.

Ridge Geyserville 2005

2007-11-09T20:05:00.000-06:00

Argyle Pinot Noir Willamette Valley 2006

2007-11-08T19:46:00.000-06:00

This wine has been one of the few reasonably priced American pinot noirs that I have consistently enjoyed. The current vintage, however, was something of a disappointment. In preparation for Thanksgiving, I cooked a bone-in turkey breast with mushroom gravy. It was really tasty. We should eat turkey more often. The wine actually went well with the dish but not in the way that I anticipated. Normally, the entry-level Argyle pinot, which sells for about $18, is reminiscent of many lovely, well-structured wines from the Cotes du Beaune in southern Burgundy that sell for $25 or more. This vintage, however, more closely resembles a Beaujolais cru wine - perhaps a Julienas - with fruity, sweet cherry notes. Beaujolais crus are great with turkey, but many of them are available for less than the price of the Argyle, making it a less attractive alternative. But if you insist on drinking American wine on this quintessentially American holiday, pick up the Argyle. N.B. Start your Turkey-Day dinner with a bottle of the same winery's sparkling brut.

Domaine Labranche Laffont Madiran Vieilles Vignes 2003

2007-10-31T19:20:00.001-05:00

I have been told that last night's blog post was entirely nonsensical, so I'll try to do better tonight. Despite my rather hectic life these days, I managed to find the time to braise some oxtails. I served them with mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus. I had chosen this Madiran specifically for the oxtails, and it didn't disappoint. The region of Madiran is in southwestern France near the Armagnac region. The local grape varietal is called Tannat, and as its name suggests, it can be pretty tannic. Modern bottlings like this one have managed to tame the grape's tannins, producing ripe and fleshy wines that still have a rigid structure. Deep purple, it displays characteristic lead and earth aromas and a medium-full body.

René Favre & Fils Dole Chamson-Valais 2006

2007-10-29T20:13:00.000-05:00

I'm watching Monday Night Football, and Brett Favre just threw a long touchdown pass to tie the game so it seemed appropriate that I blog about this wine. While the quarterback comes from Mississippi, this wine hails from southwestern Switzerland. Dole, so I'm told by Jancis Robinson's Oxford Companion to Wine, is a blend of Pinot Noir and Gamay. This wine exhibits the characteristic flavors of neither varietal. It is, nevertheless, a lovely, medium-bodied wine with bracing acidity and a gamey finish. Perfect with coq au vin.

Food, Law, and Culture : The Second Season

2007-10-24T19:51:00.000-05:00

I am organizing another series of panels devoted to Food, Law, and Culture at the annual conference of the Association for the Study of Law, Culture, and Humanities to be held in Berkeley, CA next March. We have another wonderful batch of panelists. See their abstracts below:

Food, Law, and Culture Panels
Law, Culture, and Humanities Conference 2008

Chair/Discussant:

Christopher Buccafusco
University of Chicago

Panelists:

Peter Huang
Temple University Beasley School of Law

Legal Responses to Mindless Eating

Brian Wansink in his books: Mindless Eating: Why We Eat More
Than We Think & Marketing Nutrition: Soy, Functional Foods,
Biotechnology, and Obesity describes his own & related
psychological & marketing research about mindless eating &
possible responses. This paper analyzes legal & policy
implications of this research. It also connects this
research to recent research about mindfulness, meditation, &
happiness.

Charlene Elliott
School of Journalism and Communication
Carleton University

The governance of taste: Food marketing, food law and childhood obesity in Canada

Food marketing comprises a core part of the current food environment and is routinely identified as a main contributor to childhood obesity. Excess body weight affects over 26% of children in Canada—prompting a range of interventions to address the problem.
Studies dealing with the socio-cultural aspects contributing to childhood obesity, for example, tend to focus on the same line up of ‘suspects’ when it comes to food—the sale and consumption of sugary sodas, ‘junk’ foods and fast foods, and the food-related media messages (particularly on television) which encourage the consumption of high-sugar, low-nutrient foods. Such studies pertain to what Brownell and Horgen (2004) christened the “toxic environment” or what Swinburn et. al. (1999) call the “obesogenic environment”. Whether toxic or obesogenic, this environment is one which promotes an excess of calorie consumption over calorie expenditure, generally through the over-consumption of poorly nutritious foods.

Food policy and regulation form a key strategy in current attempts to combat the toxic environment, and this paper outlines the various modes of regulation that work to govern children’s “taste” in Canada. In particular, it details some of the promising, and problematic, aspects of seeking legal solutions to public health problems, especially when it comes to children and children’s food marketing.

Doris Long
The John Marshall Law School

Patenting Mother Earth: Food, Famine and Intellectual Property

Food security may be one of the most significant issues the global community faces today. Despite advances in genetic modification of foods to combat diverse diseases, as well as soil and climate conditions, the threat of the 21st Century equivalent of the Irish Potato Famine remains a powerful reminder of how insignificant man’s technological achievements may be when faced with the practical problem of how to feed the world’s growing population on increasing smaller percentages of arable land. At a time when biodiversity is critical to assure sufficient food security, the recognition by the United States that modified plants themselves may now be the subject of utility patents (as opposed to plant varieties) threatens not only access to critical food reserves, but the diversity which traditional knowledge protection may assure. By granting utility patent protection, US law has removed food security safeguards contained in plant variety protocols, including the benefits of “fair use” for farmers and other critical experimenters in the area of food innovation. Utility patents have already largely replaced plant varieties as the approved method of protection for modified plants in the United States and threatens to do so globally. Worse, the exclusivity concepts of utility patenting threatens to derail diversity efforts based on university research of traditional indigenous agricultural techniques. Unless steps are taken soon to remedy the situation on a global scale, propertized “food” may replace indigenous staples, leading to increased incidents of localized famine in the future.

Jennifer Schulz
Faculty of Law
University of Manitoba

Food Films: Successfully Subversive Mediation in the Movies

Abstract:
Law & Film scholars have noted the many things lawyers can learn about themselves and the legal system through an analysis of the trial genre of films. My paper analyses what we can learn about mediators and mediation from the food genre of films. Food films suggest the nourishing metaphor of the mediator as cook, to be contrasted with trial films which generally use battle metaphors and depict the lawyer as warrior. I will explore the vitality of the metaphor of cooking and how it relates to the work of dispute resolution. I will trace the metaphor of the mediator as cook through several films, explore what it reveals to us about mediation methods, and describe at least five mediation styles depicted in the food genre of films. Importantly, I will highlight how film depicts a subversive mediation style, that while contrary to classic dispute resolution teachings, is successful.

Donna Byrne
William Mitchell College of Law

Organic junk food and cloned meat: mandatory and permissive food
labeling

Summary: Food labeling laws require certain bits of information and
prohibit others. A product is "misbranded" when required information is
missing, when label information is false, or when label information is
true, but misleading. For example, to label applesauce as "Fat Free"
would be misleading because applesauce is generally fat free anyway.
This paper explores the implications of voluntary, mandatory,
and "misleading" label information in several contexts, most notably
milk from cows not treated with rBST, meat or milk from clones and their
progeny, and organic fish and vegetables. When voluntary information is
allowed and consumers care about the information, labeling is
essentially provided by default for non-labeled products (de facto
labeling). This paper argues that de facto mandatory labeling exists
when consumers care about the information provided, and that consumers
are better served by explicit label information than by implicit
information. In other words, "they" should tell "us" what we want to
know.

Ernesto Hernández-López
Assistant Professor of Law
Chapman University School of Law

A free-trade "Tortilla Discourse" ? : NAFTA corn tariffs and Mexican food identity

This presentation analyzes NAFTA's corn tariff regime from a food studies perspective. Mexican food offers a rich history, ripe for analysis. In 2008, NAFTA requires Mexico to completely eliminate corn tariffs, which protected the important cultural item of corn. What will be the national identity impact in Mexican food posed by these changes?

Historical negotiation between indigenous, european, traditional, and modernization influences produced Mexico's current cuisine. The choices people make on what to eat and the socio-economic forces providing these items are mutually influential. Dishes such as tortillas, tamales, mole poblano, and chiles en nogada are served after history prepared them as central to national identity. This is exemplified in a "tortilla discourse" (labeled by Jeffrey Pilcher) when "modern" justifications attempt to eliminate corn. Popular forces have resisted these impositions. Currently, US exports provide cheaper corn for Mexico. Reacting to global demand for ethanol, corn and tortilla prices have increased. Popular forces now seek political relief. NAFTA cements these changes to the national menu.

Doris Witt
University of Iowa
Department of English

Food Rules for the World?
The Codex Alimentarius and the Project of Culinary Harmonization in Public International Law

The Codex Alimentarius was established in 1963 as a joint venture of the
Food and Agriculture and World Health Organizations. This formerly
obscure regulatory food code has become since the mid-1990s a site of
increasing contestation because nations whose food regulations conform
to Codex standards are largely insulated in the WTO from charges of
economic protectionism. As a result, the pro-industry bias of the Codex
Commission membership and the lack of democratic accountability in its
procedural mechanisms have given rise to arguments by legal scholars for
reform, such as subjecting Commission decisions to review by an
independent dispute resolution body. Without denying the political
utility of these reformist efforts, I argue in this paper for the value
of cultural theory in helping us understand not only the aesthetic
strategies through which the Commission has attempted to legitimate its
existence but also the divergent interpretive modalities-ranging from
consumer rights and conspiracy theory to post-colonialism and
neo-agrarianism-through which Codex critics have framed their discontent
with the project of culinary harmonization in public international law.

Alois Lageder Lagrein Alto Adige 2004

2007-10-24T19:36:00.000-05:00

Alois Lageder makes lovely white wines from the Alto Adige in Italy's northernmost wine region. When I saw this red wine available at Binny's for $17 I jumped at the opportunity. It's a beautifully lucid garnet color with a slightly pink rim. The aroma is peppery and leathery, while the palate presents a tightly integrated, medium-bodied selection of dried fruits and refined tannins. It's somewhere between a Beaujolais cru and a sophisticated Barbera. It is, however, distinctly Italian.

Krug Clos de Mesnil Blanc du Blanc 1992 and some other really delicious wines

2007-05-21T22:13:00.001-05:00

It is unusual for me to blog the same night as a meal (often the wine consumption makes me less articulate than usual), and it is unusual for us to entertain on a week night. But night was an enormous exception.

John and Jonathan came for dinner tonight to celebrate fiddlehead fern season. We have all had a lot to celebrate lately (our wedding, Jonathan's job offers (which were celebrated by both Jonathan and John)), and John decided to surprise us all with a celebratory gift. Of course by now you know that it was the world famous Krug Clos de Mesnil Blanc du Blanc 1992 Champagne. What an incredible wine! At a decade and a half, it was still light and fresh. The nose showed true aromas of toast and bread dough. It was rich but balanced, fragrant and restrained, wonderful and delicious. Krug's standard wine is so much better than most producers' tete de cuvee, and this wine, made entirely of Chardonnay grapes from a select vineyard, really sets the curve. Thank you John!

As it happens, we also had a number of tasty wines this evening. The Beringer Private Reserve Chardonnay 2004 was full-bodied yet balanced with notes of lychee and well-integrated oak. It paired well with roasted beet soup with Cypress Grove chevre and beet chips. And the Chateau Lafon-Rochet St. Estephe 1996 was in perfect harmony with NY strip steaks a la Colicchio, fiddlehead ferns, and new potatoes roasted in goose fat. It was medium-full bodied, with roasted red pepper and graphite notes (Jonathan declared it really, really good). We finished the night with the near-profound Jasper Hill Farms cloth-bound cheddar and a decadent bottle of Chateau Saint-Amand Sauternes 2000. I detected ripe pineapple at the core of its penetrating sweetness.

It was a wonderful evening, never to be forgotten. Thank you all.

Dinner at Everest

2007-04-12T10:36:00.000-05:00

This will be the first review of the restaurant Everest not to open by mentioning its "soaring views." We had received some gift certificates for dinner at any of the Lettuce Entertain You restaurants, and they were set to expire this week. I mentioned this to Stephanie and listed our choices, and to my surprise and immense delight she chose Everest for our destination. Everest is a world-renowned home of Chef Jean Joho, although given the considerable amount of time he spent schmoozing with the patrons, I doubt he does much cooking these days. Chef Joho hails from Alsace, France, and his cooking New French cooking is inspired by that region.

The restaurant offers 3-course menu ($79) with choices of appetizer, main course, and dessert, a 4-course menu ($96) with the same choices plus an additional appetizer from the same list, and a 7-course degustation menu ($120). We selected the 4-course menu since many of the most attractive dishes weren't available on the degustation menu.

Dinner began with a trio of amuses, including an indescribably fluffy brandade, a surprisingly deep and earthy watercress soup, and a truly amusing fried halibut cheek with a touch of slaw. Stephanie began the meal with raw oysters (Wellfleet, I think) with horseradish, cucumber, and melfor fleurette (whatever that is). She loved them, and I pronounced them the best "dressed" oysters I had ever tasted. Despite the powerful flavors, the briny oyster really showed through. I ordered the boneless rabbit presskopf but sadly was never given the opportunity to learn what kind of preparation this entailed, as the waiter misheard or misremembered my order and brought "Vintage Carnaroli Risotto, English Peas, Roasted Quail Breast." My disappointment at not getting to taste the rabbit didn't last long; the risotto was delicious (if occasionally verging on excessively al dente) and the quail was beautifully cooked.

For our second course, Stephanie ordered the "Line Caught Black Cod, Pumpernickel Horseradish Crust, Pickled Cucumbers," and I chose the "Casco Bay Sea Scallops, Potato Mousseline, Alsace Tokay Jus de Poulet." Stephanie preferred the scallops, and after I ate one, we switched. The scallops were rich and succulent, balanced with the unique oceaney flavor of sea beans and magnificently creamy potatoes (which I suspect were made of equal amounts of butter and potato, if not more of the former than the latter). Although the scallops were delicious, I found myself enjoying the inventiveness of the cod more. The cod itself was rather mild, but when combined with the pumpernickel and pickles, the resulting dish was an excellent example of the art of contemporary cooking, marrying traditional flavors in unexpected and thoroughly satisfying ways.

Everest boasts of having the largest collection of Alsatian wines in the world. The winelist is magnificent, reasonably priced, full of old treasures, and superbly managed by the sommelier. My knowledge of French wine is weakest for Alsace, and I was glad to have the help of sommelier. He directed us to exactly what were looking for - dry, old, and unusual wines. He matched the first two courses with a half bottle of Lorentz Riesling Altenberg de Bergheim 1989. After 17 years in the bottle, its color had matured to a deep honey tone. The aromas were initially muted, but over time and with the food it showed a complex density of fruit and a backbone of petrol (a common descriptor for rieslings and one that sounds so much more appetizing that "gasoline"). The palate was expansive and more than made up for a noticeable lack of acidity on the finish.

Returning to the food, Stephanie ordered "Slow Cooked Salmon Confit Medium Rare, Swiss Chard Gratin, Jus de Pinot Gris." It was an interesting dish, evocative of the still-yet-to-arrive spring. The fish was cooked beyond the advertised medium rare, but it remained delicate. When tasted with the the not mentioned accompanying ramps, it filled the mouth with bright and happy flavors. Stephanie wasn't pleased, but I enjoyed the concept.

My choice of main course was an unqualified success. The "Filet of Wild Sturgeon Wrapped and Roasted in Cured Ham, Alsace Cabbage" was the essence of Alsatian flavors prepared in a traditional yet thoroughly modern tasting manner. The fish was meaty and rich, the ham was crisp and smoky, and it was all covered with a syrupy reduction of pinot noir. The three generous slices of fish were accompanied by mixed spring vegetables (including the most profound beets I've ever tasted) and a dish of the same potato mousseline from the scallop dish. The dish was, without question, the best thing I have eaten (except perhaps for Stephanie's fried chicken) at least since the lamb trio at Cafe Boulud and maybe dating further back.

As fantastic as the dish was alone, it was further improved by a half bottle of Leon Beyer Pinot Noir Reserve 1990. Alsace is known more for its white wines than its reds, which is produces in much smaller quantities. The sommelier directed me to this bottle following my request for old and unusual wines. He warned us that of the six previous bottled he'd opened, three had been excellent but another three had been undrinkable due to oxidation. At only $38, it was worth the chance (even if he hadn't offered to not charge us if it was bad). After much anticipation, he finally presented the bottle to us, declaring it the best of the bunch! It was gorgeous - light brick colored, light-medium bodied, and a mesmerizing aroma of dried cherries and earth. It was sophisticated and satisfying while remaining restrained. With the pinot reduction on my sturgeon, it was the ideal mate.

After this experience the desserts simply couldn't hope to complete. Stephanie had a disappointing lemon cheesecake that came with seriously delicious accoutrements, including a pear sorbet. I had a cleverly prepared apple beignet, and we were compensated for the waiter's mistake on my appetizer with a tasting of chocolates. Frankly, I would have rather had a bowl of soup or a glass of Vendage Tardives. At the end of the meal there was some problem with their credit card machine, and we waited half an hour after giving them our card and receiving the printout. Late on a Tuesday night while American Idol and House were on, this was more than Stephanie could stand.

In sum, the meal was delicious - absolutely competitive with the other "temples of gastronomy," to borrow Gary Fine's phrase. Chef Joho's staff produced a successfully modern but fundamentally traditional meal that tasted really really good.

The restaurant time forgot

2007-04-01T13:33:00.000-05:00

We celebrated John's birthday on Friday night with dinner at one of Chicago's long-standing French bistros. John had indicated his desire for old-fashioned French bistro fare, so I suggested this restaurant (which shall remain nameless for its own protection). The cafe was not affected by the 1970s culinary revolution of Nouvelle Cuisine. It seemingly broke all of the rules established by Gault and Millau for contemporary cooking - there were heavily reduced sauces, well-done vegetables, identical side dishes for all entrees. But this isn't to say that it wasn't delicious. As John rightly anticipated, there should always be a niche for classics like these.

John and I started with "sauteed duck liver." The duck liver (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) was served with a unctuous port and juniper reduction that was perfect for sopping. This cafe is one of many in Chicago defying the ban on foie gras by calling it something else or selling bread appetizers for $15 and giving away free sides of liver (the ban only prohibits selling it). Jonathan wasn't feeling well and opted for the mushroom soup. He then had the filet au poivre for his main course, while John and I stuck with the duck theme - a l'orange for him and rabbit stuffed with "duck liver" for me. We each enjoyed creme brulee for dessert. All of the food was quite good and tinged with a bit of nostalgia, even for diners like us who've lived entirely in the era of nouvelle cuisine.

The cafe's wine list is certainly its best feature. It consists almost entirely of French wines from obscure regions and producers. Among its three "New World" wines is a California zinfandel from 1993, presumably from purchased during the restaurant's first year in operation. Passing up a number of interesting wines most of which were well-priced and well-aged (7-10 years), we chose wine that had recently been brought up from the cellar - a 1990 Chassagne-Montrachet 1er cru rouge from Gagnard-Delagrange. 1990 was perhaps the greatest vintage the world has ever seen; every major northern hemisphere wine-growing region from California to Germany was warm and dry. Chassagne-Montrachet is in the southern portion of Burgundy and is better known for its white wines, but this 16 year old pinot noir was really fantastic. Perhaps not as symphonically complex as its northern Burgundy brethren, the one chord this wine struck was beautiful and satisfying. Age had dampened almost all of the wine's fruit, but it was replaced by a pervasive and endless bouquet of truffles, mushrooms, and earth, but mostly just truffles. It was medium bodied and an excellent companion to the rabbit. It was also a great value. And very truffley.

Ridge Geyserville and Lytton Springs - 2 Zins from '04

2007-03-28T19:39:00.000-05:00

I roasted a new brand of organic chicken tonight. It was good, but perhaps not worth twice the price of our standard Amish chickens. We located a pair of half bottles from Ridge and decided to do a Zinfandel tasting. These are two of my favorite zinfandels; they are consistently well made. Paul Draper, the owner and winemaker, deserves credit for popularizing zinfandel and exploring its manifold possibilities through single-vineyard bottlings.

The Geyserville is the fuller-bodied of the two, with considerable structure and an oaky, bacony aroma. It's a bit stronger than the Lytton and spends more time in the barrel. Its texture is denser and the flavors tend more towards dark fruits. The Lytton Springs bottling is softer, fruiter, and more accessible. Like the Geyserville its full-bodied and tannic. Both wines are complex, well structured, and the perfect match for game, lamb, and spicy foods.

Domaine Lignéres Notre Dame Corbieres 2002

2007-03-26T19:46:00.000-05:00

Having enjoyed the first two wines I tasted from this estate, I decided to purchase the single-vineyard "notre dame" bottling. It is 100% syrah and a few dollars more than the other selections, at $30. I prepared grilled bison strip loin with asparagus and fingerling potatoes roasted with bacon, blue cheese, and sage. The bison was surprisingly moist and tender, and the potatoes were delicious.

The wine is the most dense of the three I've tasted and clearly syrah. Its flavors are round and supple, similar to an Aussie shiraz. Like its companions, it's a little shorter on the finish than I would prefer, perhaps owing to the domaine's preference for fruitiness over acidity. Nonetheless, it is a pleasurable wine and the ideal companion for grilled red meat.

Domaine du Dragon Cuvee Saint-Michel Cotes de Provence 2003

2007-03-20T19:46:00.000-05:00

I pan roasted Bell & Evans game hens tonight and served them with oyster mushroom ragout and roasted baby beets and carrots. It was all quite tasty. Particularly so when accompanied by this wine from a dreadfully named domaine. It's a medium-full bodied wine with a deep purple color and a rich integrated finish. I tend to like my wines a little "bigger" than the accompanying dish, and this one was just that. For twelve bucks or so, it's a really nice wine and great wine a variety of dishes.

Congratulations Chef Hugh Acheson

2007-03-20T12:41:00.000-05:00

Congratulations are in order for Chef Hugh Acheson of 5&10 restaurant in Athens, Ga. He has been nominated for the award of Best Chef: Southeast by the well-respected James Beard Foundation. (Click here for a list of other nominees, including blog-favorite, Paul Kahan of Blackbird.) Chef Acheson's work in Athens is truly extraordinary, from his selections of raw oysters and cheeses to his interpretations of classic regional dishes. I will always remember the porcini risotto I tasted on my first trip for a Luna wine dinner. Its delicacy is unparalleled. Rarely is such talent found in a metropolis, never mind a college town like Athens. Congratulations Chef!

Domaine Lignéres Cabanon de Pascal Corbiéres 2002

2007-03-19T19:46:00.000-05:00

Last week I blogged about the excellent "Aric" from this producer. Tonight I tasted the single-vineyard bottling named "Cabanon de Pascal," named for the vineyard manager not the philosopher. This wine sells for a few dollars less than the Aric but exhibits all of the flavor and depth (although it has no connection to obscure legal historical figures). The aroma is floral and pleasing, leading one to expect a delicate wine. But on the palate, it's expansive and well-structured, showing layers of red-fruit, tannin, and acidity. Lighter bodied and more accessible than its sibling, this wine displays beautiful provençal herb notes and an assertive finish.

We tasted it with grilled flank steak and red potatoes sauteed then roasted in goose fat. They were, without question, the best roasted potatoes I have ever eaten. Stephanie admitted the same, although she didn't know about the goose fat (if she reads this, it may be the last time I make them). The outsides were crusty and golden, and the insides were as delicate and creamy as mashed potatoes. The wine was a lovely match, although perhaps better suited to lamb dishes.

New Wine in Old Bottles

2007-03-14T09:29:00.000-05:00

Eric Asimov has a nice article in the New York Times today on the recent increase of counterfeited or otherwise fraudulent wines. With the escalation of prices for coveted older wines, it is not surprising that some folks have attempted to trick purchasers by counterfeiting labels or refilling wine bottles with inferior wine. In an attempt to determine whether some recently purchased bottles were legitimate, Asimov reports, the buyer invited a number of wine experts to taste samples and give their opinions.

Asimov suggests that concerns about wine fraud are fairly recent, and at least in the narrow circumstances of faking individual bottles of expensive wine, he may be right. (Of course, folks have been passing off counterfeit Cuban cigars to unsuspecting tourists for decades. Check out the excellent collection of counterfeit bands on Cigar Aficionado.) But fraudulent wine has been a problem for a long time. Burgundian winemakers were recently exposed when they used wines from southern France to bulk up their pinot. I am particularly interested, though, in the buyer's decision to convene a panel of experts to sort out the legitimate wines from the frauds. This practice actually has a considerable history itself. Since the 19th century, courts in England and America have admitted testimony by wine experts in cases of alleged fraud. It certainly seems like the kind of subject where an expert could aid the jury in an area outside the competence of most folks. So anxious wine investors of the world, please email me if you'd like my services as attorney or expert.
(For the sake of attorney ethics regulations, the previous sentence was intended as a joke and not as an advertisement for services.)

Domaine Lignéres Aric Corbiéres 2002

2007-03-09T15:57:00.000-06:00

We may have found a new house wine. I'm very excited about the possibility.

Last night we drank this charming bottle of wine from France's Mediterranean coast. It's a blend of Carignan (60%), Mourvedre (25%), and Syrah (15%). The Lignéres family owns the property associated with Chateau La Baronne, and they now produce a number a single-vineyard bottlings. (Check out their website. It's fantastic.) The "Aric" is named for the Visigothic king Alaric, for whom the local mountain range is named. I couldn't pass this wine up, knowing how important Alaric II was for European legal history. His 506 A.D. Breviary (also known as the Lex Visigothorum) was a compilation of contemporary Roman law for his Roman subjects in Spain and Gaul. Works like this were valuable in keeping Roman law learning alive after the fall of the western empire.

But naming a wine after an obscure legal figure isn't enough to make it our house wine. It must, of course, taste good. This one certainly did. It showed heady aromas of violets, berries, and oak. It was medium-bodied and delicious to taste. It could have used a longer finish, perhaps with better developed tannin or greater acidity. Although the bright, artistic label (depicting antique winemaking tools) looked more New World than Old, the wine was pure Provence. At $20 a bottle it may be a bit too expensive for a house wine, but it was certainly worth the price and more.

Valentine's Day Eve Dinner

2007-02-13T21:19:00.000-06:00

The weather in Chicago has been pretty brutal lately, but I decided to warm things up with a special Valentine's Day meal. Two years ago, I produced an all-red meal for V-day, with rare beef, Red Mule grits, and red wine. I couldn't do that again, so I needed a new tack. A few days ago, I experienced a culinary stroke of brilliance.

It occurred to me that a whole boneless chicken breast is vaguely shaped like a heart. I realized that I could poach the breast in some red liquid, and produce a red chicken "heart." Red wine might have worked, but I figured that nothing stains a better red than beets. Charlie, always there to encourage a foolish idea, suggested that I could produce a sauce that would serve as an "ink" to write a message on the heart. I then chose a message.

First, I roasted some red baby beets in the oven and sauteed the beet stems with shallots, garlic, and chicken stock. Then I pureed the whole thing in the blender to produce the most beautiful magenta sauce.

Next, I butchered a whole chicken to remove the breast intact. The grocery store didn't have any whole breasts, so I had to do the butchering myself. I heated the beet puree to 165F (the desired final temperature of the chicken), and submerged the breast in the puree for about 20 minutes, flipping it half way through. This is essentially the same technique used in sous vide cooking, where the meat is cooked in liquid held at the target temperature so it cannot possibly be overcooked.

When the chicken was done, it had picked up a gorgeous pink color and was meltingly tender. I then added some of the puree to a plate in the shape of heart and placed the chicken in the center. Finally, I prepared an herb with basil, spinach, and parsley, and wrote my Valentine's Day message to Stephanie - "Beet Mine."

The chicken was delicious; the sauce was sweet and rich but balanced by the addition of some vinegar. I made a side of Calasparra rice and paired the meal with a delightful Schramsberg Blanc de Noirs nv. A bit gimmicky and not perfectly executed with the saucing, the dish was a fabulous success and will be worth repeating on normal evenings.

Lunch at Cafe Boulud

2007-02-05T16:55:00.000-06:00

Most of this blog's readers have either heard my report of lunch at Cafe Boulud in New York City or were there in attendance. To celebrate the end of my qualifying exams (recall that dinner at Jean Georges was to celebrate our birthdays), I scheduled a lunch for Saturday at 1. Marty and Andi agreed to join me, and my great friend Charlie offered to take the train into the city to meet us. Charlie is a devoted gastronome and a new father, so it was especially nice to be able to celebrate his good fortune as well.

Like Jean Georges the night before, the decor at Cafe Boulud was rather modern and sparse. The days of elaborate French designs appear to be a thing of the past (Le Bec Fin certainly stands as a hold out). The waiters, however, were as classically French as ever. That is to say, they were snooty, really snooty.

Nonetheless, lunch began delightfully with cocktails of Lillet blanc. These were important, because the menu offered dozens of different choices for appetizers and main courses, all of which promised to be tasty. Despite the myriad options, however, we all ordered fairly similarly. The meal proper began with an appetizer of grilled sardine fillets for the table. They were served with crunchy greens and tasted great. Marty and I chose the cornish hen pate with foie gras, which was delicious but the latter ingredient was no where to be found. Charlie selected and enjoyed a frisee salad with duck egg, lardons, and sauteed chicken livers. Andi had a pasta dish with, I believe, truffles. All of the appetizers were excellent and paired well with glasses of Mas Amiel Le Plaisir Cote de Roussillon Rosé 2001. It had a deep pink color, the color of rose petals, but it was not as full-bodied as the color might suggest. The light red fruit flavors were balanced by moderate acidity, all of which helped with the fairly rich dishes.

I cannot now recall what Andi ordered for her main course. Perhaps someone will remind me in the comments. Recalling what the gentlemen ate, however, is quite easy - we all had the lamb served three ways. I would like to rank the different lamb preparations according to flavor, but each was so delicious and so different from its companions that the task is impossible. Instead, I will list them in the order I tasted them. First was belly of lamb minced and breaded as large piece (I have forgotten the name of this technique). The crunchy, caramelly outside was perfect with the moist, tender inside. Next was grilled lamb loin which, if simple, was perfectly done and divine with a drizzle of lamb jus. Finally, we had red wine braised leg of lamb. It was satisfying and comforting and superb with rosemary polenta.

The wine we selected with the lamb course really made everything special. Perhaps the best value on the list (with the exception of a bottle of chinon that was out of stock) was the Mas de Daumas Gassac Vin de Pays de l'Herault 1997. It is rare to find wines with substantial bottle age on the lists of most restaurants. The older wines that are available tend to be the stratospherically priced great growths. Here, instead, was a wonderful wine, great with food, and with almost a decade of age. Viewers of the movie Mondovino may recall its winemaker as the grumpy Frenchman who got pissed off when Mondavi tried to buy the vineyard next to his biodynamic land. His wine at first seemed equally grumpy to be disturbed from its nine year slumber, but it soon came to life when paired with the different lamb preparations. It was fully mature at this point, but from the excellent balance of tannin and acidity, it promised to last another decade or so. Some red fruit and spice were apparent on the palate, but these were slowly giving way to the signs of wine maturity - earthiness, leather, complexity. Perhaps not a profound wine like some of the great growths, it was a perfect example of a winemaker allowing the wine to express the terroir.

A quick word about cheeses and dessert wines before I have to put a chicken in the oven and pick up Stephanie. Charlie and I chose to have the cheese course for our finale and selected what appeared to be a promising 13 year old Coteaux du Layon from the menu. Upon hearing our request, the waiter barely managed to stifle his displeasure with our choice - well, frankly, he didn't stifle his displeasure. It was open and obvious to everyone. Fearful that the man was going to be ill, I asked if there was anything wrong. He not so politely indicated that our wine choice was foolish and that we would be much better off with the Les Clos de Paulilles Banyuls 2003. We actually had glasses of each, and I am willing to admit that his suggestion was indeed the proper one. Nonetheless, he could have learned some manners from Sommelier Scott Tyree at Tru who, as faithful readers will recall, steered me to a superb wine in a delightful and non-condescending fashion.

Mount Langi Ghiran Langi Shiraz Victoria 1998

2007-02-02T20:12:00.000-06:00

Sorry, faithful readers, the Boulud post will have to wait. Stephanie and I have been drinking some excellent wines that I've wanted to add to the blog. I learned that I passed one of my qualifying exams today, so I picked up this bottle of Australian Shiraz to celebrate. I prepared pan seared skirt steak with red wine sauce and roasted baby red beets, and Stephanie made carrot and potato purees and an arugula salad.

The Langi Shiraz, the top bottling of this excellent winery, is a classically styled wine offering the best of the New and Old Worlds. While the fruit has the ripeness associated with internationally styled wines, the alcohol is restrained, and the balance between fruit and acidity is nicely maintained. Reminiscent of a top St. Joseph, it offers compelling red fruit flavors and a rhone-y citrus-y minerality. Already eight years old, it could easily last another decade.

Two Burgundies from Bouchard

2007-02-01T20:24:00.000-06:00

For those looking for my review of Jean Georges, scroll down. For those looking for my review of Cafe Boulud, be patient - it should be up tomorrow. In the meantime, here are a couple of red burgundies from Bouchard. Stephanie and I purchased a beautiful new kitchen table, and it was delivered today. To celebrate, I made a beef stock and prepared oxtails with celeriac puree and a watercress salad. As I should have guessed, we ended up eating in the living room as usual, watching a tivo'd American Idol.

I knew that the burgundies wouldn't be perfect for the rich oxtails, but since the 2003 vintage was so hot, they managed to hold their own. First was the Mercurey 2003. It was the lighter of the two, with sour cherry flavors and bracing tannins. For about $14, it's tough to beat this with an American pinot noir. I'd probably reserve it for pork and game birds in the future, though. The 2003 Santennay was a rather more robust wine. The color was a deeper shade of garnet, and nose showed a greater complexity of fruit and even nutty aromas. The tannins were in better balance with the sweeter fruit on the front of the palate. (Whoops! I just overswirled it onto the mouse!) This wine would be right at home with duck in a non-sweet sauce or even lamb. Priced similarly to the Mercurey, the Santennay is a superb value.

Dinner at Jean Georges

2007-02-01T10:27:00.000-06:00

I traveled to New York City last weekend to attend an academic conference and visit with my brother Marty and his girlfriend Andi. Each of us had celebrated a birthday during January, and my parents offered to buy us dinner together in New York as a gift. I chose the Michelin three-star restaurant Jean Georges. It is owned by chef, restraunteur, and food-emperor Jean Georges Vongerichten who became famous for blending traditional French food with Asian influences before it was cool.

We were offered a four-course prix fixe (or as I saw it listed at another New York restaurant, pre-fix) menu and two seven-course tasting menus. One of the tasting menus was what appeared to be a "Greatest Hits of Jean Georges" menu, composed of the classics that made his name. We each opted for the seasonal Winter Tasting Menu.

Dinner began with three amuse bouches, the best being a warm sunchoke puree with black truffle shaving. The first course was made up of thin slices of scallops, topped with a frozen cranberry "popstick" and arranged with different garnishes along the top. The idea was to eat the scallop and popstick with a different garnish for each bite. Our favorites were the fresh wasabi and the mixed herbs. The second course may have been the best of the evening. It was a piece of foie gras resting on top of a delicious toasty brioche and topped with dried cherries and pistachios, all surrounded by a white port gelee. The foie was, of course, perfectly cooked, and the brioche bottom and fruit/nut topping made for a little sandwich with jelly. It was beautiful and sublime.

The next course, "Wild Mushroom Tea," was poured into a bowl containing parmesan cheese, thyme, and a sliver of chili. The soup itself was a bit muted and oily. I ate the chili towards the end of the course and only then did things brighten up. The chili was very hot, and as the heat dissipated, it mingled with the earthy mushrooms and cheese. Had we been instructed to eat the chili with the first bite, this would have been a more successful course.

Next we had a pair of fish courses. First was crispy red snapper topped with slivers of radishes, sea beans, and sesame. It was excellent, particularly the combination of mild fish and deep sea beans. It was, to my mind, visually flawed, however. The radishes had little slivers of red on the edges, and when consumed with the mild white fish, they tricked the mind into thinking it was eating imitation crab meat. I love ICM, so it wasn't a big deal, but it seemed a bit unusual. The second fish course was a beautiful lobster dish (claw and tail) served with chestnuts and espelette pepper butter. The sauce was spicy, almost like Japanese chirashi, and it paired well with the nuts. This was the second time the chef used seasonal nuts in an interesting and unusual manner during the meal.

The meat course was a roasted loin of venison, served with quince-madiera sauce and cabrales foam, and topped with broccoli rabe. The latter seemed like an afterthought and was not well-integrated with the dish. The blue cheese foam, however, provided an excellent saltiness for the meat. We finished the evening with dessert tastings (I had the citrus-accented tasting, but the best item was a cold beet puree that Andi had) and petits fours.

With help from the sommelier, we selected a number of delicious wines for the evening. Most of the first courses were consumed with a fantastic Trimbach Pinot Gris Hommage a Jeanne 2000. It was sweet and rich, but it had a beautiful minerality running through the mid-palate that lifted the flavors of the food right off the tongue. At six years old, it was beginning to show signs of maturity that paired nicely with the foie gras (although at times the port gelee was a bit too sweet for the wine). With the snapper, we enjoyed glasses of the racy and acidic Joseph Drouhin Chablis Vaudesir Grand Cru 2001. Its white fruit flavors and delightful minerality were excellent alongside the crispy fish and deep sea flavors of the beans. Our venison course was accompanied by a wine bottled exclusively for the restaurant, Kamen Claret Sonoma 2003. Like the best reds from Sonoma, it was well-balanced and generous, not overly extracted and demanding like its Napa cousins. The slight sweetness in the wine was matched by the meat and the quince sauce. Finally, the bright flavors of my citrusy dessert were gorgeously paired with a Tokaji Aszu 6 Puttonyos 1997 from Tokaj Classic. For an old, amber-colored wine, it offered the backbone of acidity that was necessary for the desserts.

Service, on the whole, was professional and accommodating, although occasionally our server spoke too softly. The couple seated next to us got engaged at dinner and were, accordingly, granted the privileges of talking on their cellphones all night and groping each other between bites of food. Otherwise, the meal was excellent and fit for our celebration. Although the food was less often profound than at The French Laundry or Tru, it was absolutely delicious.

A Truffle and a Bottle of Allegrini Palazzo della Torre 1997

2006-12-19T16:02:00.000-06:00

Stephanie and I were doing our normal weekend shopping at Treasure Island, Chicago's best grocery store, when I spied a half dozen truffles in the display case in the deli. After much debate, Stephanie convinced me to take one of the little tubers home. It was about the size of nutmeg (or is it a nut of meg?) and cost $10. We agreed that we had to prepare a special meal for it and choose some large lamb chops. I pan roasted the lamb and created a decadent red wine sauce from the fond. I also made risotto finished with a healthy dollop of whipped cream and shavings from about a third of the truffle. The truffle was dry as a rock and difficult to grate, but it added its characteristic aroma to the meal. Was it worth the $10? At that point I wasn't convinced, but after Stephanie grated some into scrambled eggs the next morning, it most certainly was.

Stephanie also convinced me to open a bottle of wine from the cellar for the occasion. I chose one of my two remaining bottles of Allegrini's "Super Veneto" wine. As in much of Europe, the grapes that go into wines from the Veneto are regulated by law. In order to call a wine Valpolicella or Amarone, winemakers can only use certain specified varietals. The folks at Allegrini don't like being told what to do. They add a small percentage of sangiovese, a Tuscan grape, to this blend and are forced to label it "IGT" (Indicazione Geografica Tipica). In a nod to regional tradition, however, thirty percent of the grapes are allowed to dry on mats for months before being fermented (this is why Amarone tastes the way it does).

I loved this wine when it was released and decided to put a few bottles in the cellar. Recent vintages have gotten equally lavish praise, but I have found them increasingly ripe and unbalanced. Accordingly, I was anticipating trying this wine to see what had changed, the wine or my palate. As it turns out, my palate was in excellent shape. Coincidentally, the wine gave off opulent truffle aromas upon being opened and decanted. It was medium bodied and dry, showing some expected fading in color. At nine years old, the original fruit flavors had all but vanished to be replaced by mature, dried berry notes. My inclination with the last bottle is to give it a few more years to hope these mature flavors develop further. It was certainly no worse for wear, and I'm interested to see what may yet happen. Wines like these prove that you don't have to spend a lot of money for age-worthy wines. This one only costs $17.

Our trip to Bouchon

2006-12-15T11:29:00.000-06:00

Jonathan says: In celebration of many things, including our own recent engagement, our friend's impending wedding, and the general gloriousness of early fall in Napa Valley, we decided to head for lunch to Thomas Keller's bistro Bouchon, located just down the street in Yountville from his more famous French Laundry. The Michelin Guide to Northern California had just awarded Bouchon a star despite being rather parsimonious in its distribution of awards to other San Francisco-area restaurants, and so we were especially eager to see what at Bouchon had warranted this treatment.

Seeb says: Up until the night before, I had thought of our lunch as a special advance celebration of Jonathan's birthday. Apparently, he had a larger plan in mind the whole time.

J: The restaurant itself is gorgeous, and decorated in classic French brasserie style: brass rails, mirrors on the walls, tiled floors, nouveau French paintings on the walls, and even a large potted plant in the middle. All told, very authentic. From the moment we sat down, the food was superb to match. The mini-baguette placed on our table was delicious, and the butter that accompanied it was superbly creamy and just a little bit sweet.

S: Loved the huge floor-to-ceiling potted plant in the middle of the seating area. I don't remember the tile exactly, but I get the feeling I didn't like it. The seat (velour or velvet, I think. red?) was comfortable, but the tables were lined up pretty close so that sliding in and out of the seat was tricky. And I was not the only woman who found this a challenge.

J: After much haggling, we initially decided to order a half carafe of a pinot grigio from a nearby (!) winery. When the waiter arrived, however, he strongly recommended the 2004 Domaine Vacheron Sancerre from the Loire Valley, and since I had been considering the Sancerre in the first place I fairly quickly agreed. Seebany, however, protested, arguing (quite correctly, as I readily admitted) that it was somewhat ridiculous to be ordering French wines while *sitting in Napa.* Nonetheless, in the end we opted for the Sancerre and were very happy that we did. The wine was light and crisp with hints of fruit and a finish reminiscent of black pepper, and it was delicious by itself and a wonderful complement to the seafood dishes that we decided to order.

S: To be precise, we were haggling over the amount of wine, not over the type. One of us would have to drive us back, after all.

My first course was not seafood, though. It would have come as a surprise to nearly anyone who knows me. I'm not the biggest fan of eggs, and I don't know much about the various types of cheese. But if there's anyone who could convert me with a quiche, it'd be Thomas Keller. The mushroom and roquefort quiche was just the right savory start. Not sulfury in smell or taste, but earthy from the mushrooms and the pungent cheese. But it was really the texture that made it different from just about any other quiche I've tried. Served in a small ramekin, the quiche was extremely custard-like. Fantastic, and all that *without* an overbearing egg taste. [Sadly, I don't remember the crust exactly, although I know it was not a typical flaky pie crust.] The richness actually made me wish for an instant for colder weather (!) that would do this warm comfort food justice. In fact it brought to mind exactly another dining moment in which French food was the ultimate comfort food - the coq au vin in the chocolately thick sauce we had last winter at Fringale. There's something about discovering comfort foods even though you never ate them as a child.

J: I ordered the rillettes aux deux saumons, essentially a spread of smoked and raw salmon preserved in a glass jar and covered with a layer of clarified butter (which the waiters skillfully removed). It was delicious in all of the ways that good salmon usually is, and moreover there was quite a bit of it. Seeb and I were both able to eat our fill before it had disappeared. The only minor slip-up in the service was that we were required to ask more than once before the waiters brought more bread for the rillettes. All told, not somehow as spectacular as Seeb’s quiche, but still very good.

As a main course I ordered the dish I had been eyeing (on the internet) for months, the moules au safran—basically moules frites (mussels and French fries) in a saffron and mustard sauce with hints of black and red pepper. The mussels were perfectly done, the sauce was deliciously spicy and more than a bit tangy, and the powerful aroma of saffron was a perfect complement to the mussels’ natural flavor. The pot in which the mussels were served was also impressively conceived; one corner of the pot was literally fenced off from the remainder in order to provide a space for dipping the mussels (and the fries) that wasn’t crowded by shells. And what fries—probably the best French fries I have ever eaten, better even than the duck fat fries at Hot Doug’s in Chicago (which are a favorite of many of this site’s bloggers). Perfectly salty, incredibly crispy, and not even terribly oily or greasy. The problem was that despite being the best fries I have ever tasted they were the least interesting thing on the table to eat, so we didn’t finish them.

***
S: So, here it is December 15th, and wouldn’t you know, I’ve taken so long to write now that I had to ask Jonathan to remind me what my main course was. Scallops with parsnip puree. Of course, once he said it I instantly remembered the texture of the parsnips and the scallops. The dish was very mild flavored, the scallops just a little buttery sweet and the parsnips as I imagine parsnips must usually be, (not having them often), a nice background flavor, really meant to let the scallops be the stars.

And then on to the dessert. Jonathan and I shared a lemon tart. Normally I would prefer something richer and, except in summertime, less fruity. But with the weather and the heft of the rest of the meal (lunch, i.e. lighter) it was a good choice. Chris had told Jonathan that Keller considered this lemon tart to be the apotheosis of this dessert; he believed that he had perfected the recipe and would never change it. This may well be, but I don’t think that we’re huge fans of lemon tart. Or perhaps we were just too stuffed from previous courses.

But one thing worth mentioning that is not about Bouchon, per se, ;) is that after lunch we walked a little ways up the road back to where we’d passed by the French Laundry. Took a look around at their little patio area and the iconic blue door, of course. Across the street was a small garden of three sets of four rows of vegetables (all labeled) that they grow and use at the restaurants. To view them all you have to step off the sidewalk and into the dirt, so don’t wear your absolute best pair of shoes to French Laundry or Bouchon.

I hadn’t heard of such specific varieties and strains. The garden certainly wasn’t large enough to supply the restaurant night after night, so I don’t know if it was a showcase garden, or if they only use these items as garnish. There were some really beautiful little “jingle bell peppers” ripe on the stalks that were very picturesque. I imagine a little goes a long way with those. All in all, a fun way to spend the afternoon.

Dinner with Friends

2006-12-04T09:52:00.001-06:00

The weather in Chicago was almost as cold as Reggie Ball's performance in the ACC Championship game, but it was nothing that couldn't be warmed up by a some good food and wine. Dinner with John and Jonathan proved to be the bright spot between dreadful performances by my favorite teams.

We began the night with an amuse of Fried Oysters with two sauces - chive aioli and roasted red pepper. Stephanie has prepared these oysters in the past, and they were just as good as usual. Next, we made good use of a recent house-warming gift from Charlie and Lauren by serving escargots in their traditional bowls. The snails were topped with an equally-traditional garlic butter and proved rather tender and tasty. For the main course, I braised rabbit in white wine and rabbit jus and served it with buttered egg noodle "tagliatelle." The rabbit was moist and tender, and the noodles, from Del Cecco, proved more satisfying than the standard egg noodles. We concluded with delightful treats provided by John - including goose supreme, fromage d'affinois, Humboldt Fog, and Bleu d'Agur - and some excellent foie gras secretly imported into Chicago by some to-remain-nameless friends. I would mention that the blue cheese was particularly stunning, but then it would be even harder to get than it already is (because, of course, as soon as something is approved by Cask 79 its sales jump).

Wines for the evening were provided by our guests. We began with a 2004 Domaine Vacheron Sancerre that readers of this blog would already know of if Seebany had finished her post about Bouchon. The wine, which Jonathan and Seebany had shared at Bouchon, was both racy and rich, allowing it serve as both complement and foil for the buttery snails. Next we enjoyed the accidentally overchilled (my bad) Domaine Saint-Martin Marsannay Les Grands Vignes 2004 imported by Patrick Lesec. Lesec is a well-respected negociant known more for his Rhones than his Burgundies, and this bottle, as it warmed, showed both the grace of a pinot noir and the earthy core of a syrah. It was really excellent both with the rabbit and alone. The cheese course was accompanied by a wine sourced from John's personal cellar, the 2003 Chateau de Myrat Sauternes. I had tasted this wine without food previously, and it seemed even more profound when paired with the goose supreme and blue cheese. Full of botrytis yet perfectly balanced, it was quintessential Sauternes. We ended the night with some post-prandial YouTubing and a bottle of Chateau Henye Tokaji Furmint 2000. While it didn't have the botrytis of the Myrat (it probably should have been served first), it did offer an excellent purity of tree fruit that was refreshing after an evening of such almost but not quite gluttony.

Country Style Cream of Leek Soup

2006-12-03T13:36:00.000-06:00

We finally imported some photos from our camera, and I wanted to post a photo of the Country Style Cream of Leek Soup that I blogged about a few weeks ago. Click on the title to link to that post.

This is a cream-based sausage and leek soup, and it turned out better than I expected. The perfect soup for a cold Saturday night.

This Guacamole Haas No Avocado

2006-11-30T08:56:00.000-06:00

The courts have just told us that a burrito is not a sandwich, and now we'll find out if guacamole legally has to contain avocado. A Los Angeles woman is suing Kraft foods over its "guacamole dip" for misleading advertising because the dip contains only 2% avocados. The article is here.

Interestingly, the article notes that peanut butter must contain at least 90% peanuts according to FDA regulations. Frankly, I'm surprised that it's that high. Many European countries take the contents of their food products very seriously. I wonder if this is the beginning of greater federal regulation in this country.

Another important Food and the Law issue...

2006-11-13T13:07:00.000-06:00

Is a burrito a sandwich?

Thanks to Jim Smith for the pointer.

How do you know it's fall? Sausage soup and pumpkin ice cream

2006-11-04T16:17:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, Chris announced that he wanted to go to Lincoln Square to buy sausages today. Lincoln Square is an older but charming Chicago neighborhood about fifteen minutes from our house. It has an obvious German influence. Every year -- like many towns -- they have an Octoberfest with good German sausages and beer. The "square" is like any small-town downtown, with plenty of small shops and tree lined parking. They also have metered lots, which is great because you don't have to pay $20 to park for half-an-hour. We've eaten at some interesting, genuine biergartens, but today we had Thai food. Sorry.

In any event, the real purpose of our trip today was to visit Han's Delicatessen Meyer, Chris's favorite German grocery. While Chris was taking the MPRE this morning, I studied our numerous and varied cook books for a sausage-related recipe. I settled on Country Style Cream of Leek Soup from Splendid Fare: The Albert Stockli Cookbook. My dad picked up the book -- which was published in 1970 -- for Chris at a book consignment sale. According to the book jacket, Stockli "made New York's Four Seasons restaurant celebrated around the world." I don't know about that, but I do know that his recipes are influenced by his European training and, particularly, his Swiss heritage. Hence, Country Style Cream of Leek Soup, which is simmering as I type (with a few of my slight modifications):

Chop and saute four slices of thick bacon for 5-10 minutes. Remove some bacon for garnish later. Roughly chop and add to the saute: three leeks, half an onion, three cloves garlic. Add a bouquet garni (parsley, thyme, basil), salt and pepper (light on the salt). Add four cups of chicken stock or canned chicken broth (I am using canned broth because Chris has been slack on making stock lately.) and bring to a simmer.

In a cast iron pan, brown several sausages, such as smoked farmer sausages, bauernwurst, cervelat, Kielbasa, pig's knuckles, or small pork link sausages. We're using two each of thuringer and nuernberger sausages. Add the sausages (whole) to the simmering stock. Simmer uncovered for about 45 minutes or until the leeks are soft and well cooked. (I haven't gotten past this point in cooking, but I'm sure Chris will blog about the finished product later.) Remove the sausage, pour the soup into a blender (or, if you're smart enough to have one, use an emersion blender. And, I strongly recommend buying one. They're so easy to use and clean.) Puree the soup until smooth. Return to stove and stir in one cup of cream. Yum!! Heat, but do not boil. Slice the sausage and return it to the soup. Serve sprinkled with chopped chives and the reserved bacon.

For dessert, we're having pumpkin ice cream. I know it sounds kind of strange, and I was skeptical at first, but the unfrozen custard (which is cooling in the fridge) is great. I can't wait to freeze it:

Halve two small pie pumpkins (not the same as carving pumpkins), remove seeds, and roast until soft or microwave in a dish with about half an inch of water for ten minutes. Scoop pulp into a bowl and add 1 tsp vanilla paste or extract (I recommend buying the real stuff, it makes a huge difference). If you don't want to cook the pumpkin you can also buy canned unsweetened pumpkin puree. Refridgerate the puree for a couple of hours.

Whisk 1 1/2 cups of cream and 1/2 cup of brown sugar over the stove, let warm on medium heat for about ten minutes, stirring often. Whisk five egg yolks, 1/4 cup of brown sugar, 1 tsp pumpkin pie spice (or cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, ginger), until the sugar begins to dissolve. Slowly pour about 1/2 cup of the warm cream mixture in to the eggs, whisking, to temper the eggs. Pour the egg mixture in to the warm cream and simmer, stirring, for about five minutes or until the custard coats a spoon. Cool over an ice bath, then whip the pumpkin puree into the mixture. Refridgerate for three to twenty-four hours (longer results in better texture), then freeze according to the ice cream manufacturer directions.

So, we're having Country Style Cream of Leek Soup for dinner, and homemade pumpkin ice cream for dessert. This is what I call a real fall meal! I can't wait!

Domaine Saint-Damien Les Souteyrades Gigondas 2003

2006-10-23T20:10:00.000-05:00

We picked up some lamb shoulder this weekend, and I braised it tonight in red wine, potatoes, mushrooms, carrots, and celery. Sadly the store was out of baguettes, so much good jus went unsopped. The lamb immediately called to mind a Rhone wine, so I picked up this bottle from the southern portion of that region. While it was rather ripe and round for an old world wine, it showed a nice balance of earth and acidity to pair well with the food. American wineries would be well-served in studying wines such as this, which show the value of rich fruit and soft texture when combined with length, structure, and tannin.

Sweets & Savories

2006-10-21T17:30:00.000-05:00

Last Sunday, Chris and I went to Sweets & Savories for brunch. Chris has been wanting to try this place for a while, and I thought brunch would be a fun but affordable way to see what we thought about it. I made reservations through Open Table and sent him an e-vite as a surprise.

The restaraunt is small, to say the least. There were probably fifteen tables. Decor is minimal and is mostly brown and pink. We arrived and were seated promptly at a table by the front window, looking out onto the street. To our surprise, there were several large parties at tables pushed together, including what looked like a baby shower or birthday party for an infant, complete with baby blue baloons tied to the chairs. Otherwise, the restaraunt was not overly full.

Our waiter was nice enough and knowledgeable about the food. Sunday brunch is a three course prix fixe menu for only $16.00. For this, you receive various scones and muffins and are given choices of: 1) drinks, including tea, coffee, mimosas and bloody marys; 2) soup, salad or fruit; and 3) an entree.

Chris ordered the curried potato soup and duck confit hash with poached eggs and a lemon hollandaise sauce. He requested champagne in lieu of a mimosa, and was offered a presseco, which was fresh and bright. I ordered a bloody mary, as well as the arugula salad and soft scrambled eggs with white truffle oil.

Chris's soup was not "curried" so much as it was a warm vichyssoise. It was creamy and rich, and just wonderful, with a hint of truffle. The arugula salad was also great -- lemony and nutty. Chris really loved his duck confit hash (which I did not taste), and the poached eggs in lemon sauce were out of this world. They were perfectly cooked, and the lemon added just the right touch of spark. My soft scrambled eggs were also nice --served over brioche -- but the bread was soggy and the "white truffle" was non-existent. Over all, the food was solid and I would return for that.

That said, our service was simply atrocious. We were brought our soup and salad promptly, and after we had each taken one bite, someone who appeared to be a food runner approached our table and informed us that our entrees were ready and asked if we minded having them served immediately. Chris said yes, we actually did mind, and the food runner said he couldn't do anything, our food was coming out. He was quite rude about it, and he and Chris bantered briefly. He insisted that he was going to bring the entrees out despite our request to wait. Chris then asked about our muffins and scones, which had not yet been brought out, though they are listed as the first course on the prix fixe menu. The food runner very brusquely said he would go and get them if we wanted them. He disappeared and shortly thereafter returned with the scones, but, thankfully, not the entrees.

Our entrees were ultimately delivered after we finished our soup and salad course, as we requested. The food itself was solid, if not terribly creative. The disappointment in this meal was the service, which was astonishingly bad -- e.g., trying to bring our entrees with the salad course, not bringing the "first" course until askd, not refilling our water even once. But, I can live with bad service. Sometimes it happens. Here, the service was downright rude. Chris later had a nice conversation with our actual waiter, but I was not able to get beyond the poor service. While Chris would like to return for a dinner, I would not.

In sum, the food was solid, brunch prices are more than reasonable, but service was terrible. If you're in it for the food and don't care about the service, go for it.

Food, Law, and Culture Panels

2006-10-10T10:46:00.000-05:00

A while back I published a Call for Papers for a panel devoted to food and the law at the upcoming Law, Culture, and Humanities conference at Georgetown University. I got an excellent response and am forming two panels on the subject. Here are the abstracts for the papers:

J. Amy Dillard
Assistant Professor of Law
University of Baltimore
School of Law

“Sloppy Joe, Slop, Sloppy Joe”: How USDA Commodities Dumping Destroyed the National School Lunch Program

Alice Waters, the godmother of the organic, whole food movement, has set the considerable resources of her Chez Panisse Foundation to the task of reforming school lunch in Berkeley, California, while working within the confines of the National School Lunch Program (NSLP). First funded by Congress in 1946, the NSLP combined two post-Depression Era objectives: 1) assist with the health of the nation’s children, and 2) ensure a market for farmers. The Department of Agriculture has used the NSLP to turn the nation’s school lunchrooms into a commodities dumping ground that has produced a glut of obese children and an expanding agribusiness that processes whole foods into nutritional nightmares.
This paper will explore the history of the NSLP and its complex relationship with USDA commodities, will examine the agribusiness of converting commodities into unhealthy lunchroom food, and will conclude by discussing the cultural challenges faced by the organic, whole food movement for bringing healthy food to a land where “latte-drinking, sushi-eating, Volvo-driving” freaks are excoriated by social conservatives.

*******

James Smith
John Byrd Martin Chair of Law
University of Georgia School of Law

Genetically modified pollen drifting onto the field of a neighboring farm may cause substantial harm. If the bystanding farmer is growing non-genetically modified crops, she may suffer a pecuniary loss due to genetic ‘pollution.’ If the pollen is patented, the patentee may also claim harm stemming from the unauthorized distribution of its proprietary genetic material. Disputes arising from pollen drift present classic legal questions arising under the law of neighbors and classic economic questions broached most famously by Ronald Coase in his essay on The Problem of Social Cost. The application of the Coase Theorem and its most applicable corollary strongly suggest that: 1) balancing rules under nuisance law should be applied on a case-by-case basis to determine whether any particular genetic polluter should be liable for damages caused by pollen drift; and 2) most bystanding farmers should have viable defenses to patent infringement. Venerable legal principles applied to this new problem suggest the same two conclusions. Proving both propositions provides a textbook demonstration for the usefulness of economic analysis and solves a world-wide multi-billion dollar legal problem.

******

Morgan L. Holcomb
Visiting Assistant Professor
University of Minnesota Law School

The local food movement has taken root (or perhaps taken root again). Witness books such as The Omnivore’s Dilemma (Pollan) and Eat Here (Halweil), activists taking on school lunches (Alice Waters revamping the Berkeley public school cafeteria), and the proliferation of farmers markets in almost all regions of the country.

This local food movement evidences a new or renewed interest in where our food comes from. Some farmers hope that it also means a renewed interest in keeping farms as “family farms” and a renewed economic commitment to do so. But what is meant by the term “family farm”? Shall we include large-scale commodity farms, or is “family farm” a proxy for something else? Perhaps by “family farm” we intend something other than simply any farm owned by a family.

This paper will begin by exploring what we mean by “family farm.” It will then go on to address what role will the tax code plays in our complicated agricultural system. Finally, the paper will address whether the tax code in fact save the family farm, and if saving the family farm a goal worth achieving.

******

Charlene Elliott
Assistant Professor
School of Journalism and Communication
Carleton University

In 2005, the Supreme Court of Canada ruled on Quebec’s long-standing law that prohibits the sale of yellow margarine. While the precise colour of margarine may seem trivial, the dispute carries on a century-old tradition in Canada of placing margarine in the legal (and lobbyist’s) limelight.

Margarine presents a long and bizarre legal history which opens the door for probing both the notion of legislative intent and the belief in a product’s communicative potential. The buttery impostor has been banned, outlawed, bootlegged, taxed and colour-coded—and even implicated in the Canadian Constitution

Inspired by Arjun Appadurai’s (1988) claim that ‘objects have social lives’, this analysis provides a legal ‘biography’ of margarine in Canada from 1886 to present. It details how the product has become the site of contestation, negotiation and special interest claims, and how the evolving regulation of margarine reflects some surprisingly consistent social realities.

******

Jonathan M. Gutoff
Associate Professor of Law
Roger Williams University School of Law

Under the Common Law, certain animals were classified as “royal” and were preserved for the sovereign as part of his or her prerogative. However, while salmon were recognized to be “great fish” they were not considered to be royal fish. I propose to use the case of sturgeon and salmon to explore the relationship between law and culture. Specifically, my plan is to investigate how the culinary and social distinction between sturgeon and salmon in the medieval period was reflected in the development of the legal distinction. Then, and this is why this case study may prove quite interesting, I hope to show how, in turn, the legal distinction in early-modern and modern times was reflected in the social and culinary position of sturgeon and salmon.

******

Patrick Baude
Ralph F. Fuchs Professor of Law and Public Service
Indiana University – Bloomington

Memory and the Twenty-First Amendment.

The Twenty-First Amendment (1) repeals Prohibition and (2) allows states to prohibit the transportation or importation of intoxicating liquors. Justice Stevens, dissenting from a recent Supreme Court opinion somewhat limiting state bans on importation, observed that the Court’s decision would “seem strange indeed to the millions of Americans who condemned the use of ‘demon rum.”’ This is a sensible thing to say about Prohibition but quite an odd thing to say about an amendment repealing Prohibition. His comment was especially powerful, however odd, in light of the implication that he had personal memory of this particular bit of legislative history. In fact, one can remember that history as a condemnation of strong drink or as a condemnation of the corruption created by the ban itself. Which memory one privileges will determine whether the penumbra of the Amendment is “wet” or “dry.” This paper traces the link between that history and a number of current questions, such as: (1) Can parents allow their twenty-year old children a glass of wine? (2) Can women be forbidden to drink because they might be pregnant? (3) Can sleeping pills be banned because they sometimes cause automobile accidents?

******

Christopher J. Buccafusco
University of Chicago

A Culture of Hospitality: Social Norms and Intellectual Property Among Chefs

American law offers little in the way of intellectual property protection to chefs’ creative recipes. Nonetheless, an informal system of social norms exists among chefs that serves to promote recipe innovation, assign credit to creative chefs, and inhibit rampant copying. This paper will examine the history of these quasi-IP norms and the culinary profession’s overarching “culture of hospitality.” It will attempt to determine whether the existence of such norms made the low-IP situation possible or whether they developed in response to a lack of legal protection. Finally, it will consider whether such a system is uniquely possible in the culinary profession or whether it can shed light on other areas of cultural property.

A Pork Filled Weekend

2006-10-09T09:03:00.000-05:00

After an eye exam on Saturday (apparently all of this graduate schooling isn't good for the eyes), Stephanie and I stopped into a small Latin grocer and picked up a couple of pork cuts not seen at the yuppie markets. That night we roasted a saddle of pork with root vegetables. The saddle is the part on the top of the animal where the loins come together. It is like two very thick pork chops connected in the middle by the backbone. I had a bottle of Dr. H. Thanisch Wehlener Sonnenuhr Riesling Kabinett 2004 open from the previous night that matched superbly. Kabinett is the driest of Germany's sweet rieslings, but it is still far too sweet for Stephanie's palate. It was an excellent wine, with stone fruit flavors, a wild honey sweetness, and a pleasantly lingering acidity.

Last night I braised a pork belly. Regular blog readers will know of our love for the pork belly sandwich at Blackbird, and, fortunately, I was able to locate a recipe online by Blackbird chef Paul Kahan. The belly is the same cut of meat that bacon comes from. It's enormously tender and flavorful, and a bit fatty. The pork is seared on both sides to render some of the fat and then mirepoix and white wine are added to deglaze. Finally, a bit of chicken stock and bouquet garni, and the whole thing is roasted uncovered in a 325F oven for 2.5 hours. Stephanie prepared a delightful side dish of wilted escarole with green peas. She even toasted some bread and smeared it with butter and mayonaise to imitate the Blackbird sandwich. Everything was supremely delicious. Earlier that day at Sam's we had picked up a bottle of J-P Granier Coteaux du Languedoc les essentielles 2001 on sale. Unfortunately, it tasted like something from California or Australia rather than the Languedoc we had hoped for. Far too ripe, alcholic, and glycerin-y to go well with pork. Another riesling, like the Wehlener or perhaps from Alsace, would have been a much better choice.

Georges Duboeuf Moulin-a-Vent Oak Aged 2005

2006-09-27T20:04:00.000-05:00

Again keeping things gastronomically simple in preparation for visitors, we decided to order a pizza from Father & Son tonight. It was sufficiently yummy, despite being cut into squares. F&S is about the only pizza place that delivers to Chicago's west side hinterland. I wonder if they'd cut it into normal slices if we asked.

In any event, we opened our first bottle of the new 2005 vintage from Beaujolais. It is perhaps worth pausing for a moment to discuss the wines of Beaujolais for those only familiar with its most (in)famous product Nouveau. Beaujolais is a region in the east of France, south of Burgundy proper, and its considerable production of red wines is devoted to the Gamay grape (also occasionally found in the Loire Valley). Gamay produces crisp, light red wines with refreshing berry characteristics and little tannin. This makes it a lovely choice for "Nouveau" bottlings, where the wine is released weeks after being harvested, pressed, and fermented. These wines, while perfectly acceptable for a celebration, are not especially satisfying. The next step up in quality are labeled "Villages" (pronounced vill-ahzj). These are fine table wines for regular consumption, showing more structure than the nouveaux. At the top are the "cru" wines produced from particular sub-regions within Beaujolais. These wines, from crus named Julienas, Morgon, Fleurie, Brouilly, etc., are some of the best values in the wine world. They usually sell for $10-20, and they can be as satisfying as more expensive bottles from Burgundy.

The wine I chose, from Beaujolais's biggest and best known producer, was, sadly, not up to the fine standards of the cru bottlings. It had a lovely violet red color but the oak aging did little more than make the wine taste like a cheap California pinot noir. Perhaps it needs some time to integrate, but the oak covers the delicate floral and berry notes that are so desperately trying to be noticed. In any event, the 2005s promise to be tasty. Just try different bottles.

Domaine des Aubuisiéres Vouvray Cuvée de Silex 2005

2006-09-27T16:31:00.000-05:00

I didn't feel like cooking anyting too fancy last night, so I whipped up some pasta and shrimp in garlic and olive oil. It wasn't an exciting meal, but the wine we chose was quite nice.

Regular blog readers will be familiar with my fondness for chenin blanc from the Loire (clearly Eric Asimov has been reading my blog), and I couldn't pass up this Vouvray selling for a few dollars cheaper than the bottlings by Huet and others. I was also attracted to the wine's designation as "cuvee de silex," drawing attention to the predominant soil type in the vineyard (a practice popularized in the Loire Valley by Didier Dageneau).

Made by Bernard Fouquet, this wine showed great minerally balanced by round stone-fruit flavors and aromas. The Loire reds I've tasted from '05 have been uniformly flabby due to the high summer temperatures, but this bottle kept everything in the proper register. While perhaps not as age-worthy as Heut's vouvrays or Baumard or Joly's savennieres, this was a chenin that could stand up to rich fish like salmon or rouget and even to pork and veal.

Ch. Malartic La Graviere 2003 & Ch. Pedesclaux 2003

2006-09-13T19:19:00.000-05:00

It rained for the 41st consecutive day in Chicago, but this time I was ready for the weather. I braised some beef short ribs and made some lovely mashed potatoes with more butter and cream than Stephanie was aware of. The short ribs were excellent. They may very well be the most naturally flavorful cut of beef.

We paired dinner with a couple of 2003 Bordeauz. The Malartic La Graviere hails from the Pessac Leognan and has a rich floral and hotdoggy aroma. On the palate, the flowers turn to red fruits backed by a solid by unintrusive layer of tannins. The Pedesclaux comes from Paulliac and shows rich fruit and floral aromas and a matching palate. The finish on the Pedesclaux is much longer than the Malartic, but it is also a more extracted and modern wine. Both wines were surprisingly restrained considering that they were produced during the scorching 2003 vintage, and both matched well with the meal. If I had to choose, I'd give the edge in the wine-food pairing to the Malartic and the edge in stand-alone pleasure to the Pedesclaux. But, fortunately, I don't have to choose.

Shellfish Fest

2006-09-10T16:38:00.000-05:00

After hearing that co-blogger Jonathan and my Moto dinner companion John had never schucked raw oysters, Stephanie and I decided to invite them over for a lesson in opening the delicious bivalves. Dirk's Fish Market was the source for the oysters, which included Kumomotos, Fanny Bays, Virginicas, and Malpeques. Our guests picked up the technique rapidly despite imperfect instruction. Fortunately, no fingers were lost. Unfortunately, a number of the Fanny Bays were not edible, but the rest of the oysters were delicious. I was particularly impressed by the briny yet clean character of the Virginicas and Malpeques. We drank a delicious 2004 Beauregard Muscadet as we schucked. It's crisp acidity and minerally finish accented the oysters perfectly.

Following the raw fish, we decided to eat something cooked. I smoked Prince Edward Island mussels on the grill with hickory chips. They took a while to open, but they had a splendidly rich flavor tinged with smoke. The obvious wine pairing was a Pouilly-Fume (Fume is French for "smoke"), and we enjoyed an excellent bottle of 2004 Chatelain (it was manifestly better than one reviewed earlier on this blog). It seemed round and broad following the muscadet, but the flinty finish went perfectly with the mussels. Also, following a recommendation from co-blogger Charlie, we tried a bit of peaty Scotch with the mussels, choosing the obviously delicious Johnny Walker Blue Label. If only we had more mussels and more Scotch.

Deciding that we were no where close to full, I grilled a pair of mackerel, seasoned only with salt, pepper, lemon, and Sicilian olive oil. Mackerel is a rich, oily fish (so much so that Stephanie declined to try it), so it was just the thing to follow the smoked mussels.

Jonathan was kind enough to bring by a bottle of grappa, which a welcome resource for continued gastronomic pleasure. It was full, rich, and oily with a delicate hint of plums. Unlike some of the more fruity or restrained grappas on the market now, this one had the heft that signified its authenticity.

With such a wonderful digestif, we were fully prepared to enjoy the wonderful cheese, goose pate, and 2003 Carmes de Rieussec Sauternes that John provided. Although I'm sure I don't even have to say it, the sweet, rich wine paired excellently with the extravagant goose pate and the Rochefort and Humboldt Fog cheeses.

Having plied our guests with enough food and drink to put a horse into a coma, I decided that it was an excellent time to revenge a bocce drubbing that John and Jonathan had given my neighbor Willie and I a few days earlier. Grappa in hand and straw bocce hat on head, we managed to tie the series at two games a piece. It was a fanatastic evening.

Food, Law, and Culture Panel - Call for Papers

2006-08-22T20:45:00.000-05:00

The folks at LawCulture have been nice enough to link to my Food, Law, and Culture call for papers, so I am moving it to the top of my blog. Please stop by their blog if you get the chance.

****
I am currently soliciting paper presentations for a new panel on “Food, Law, and Culture” for the annual Law, Culture, and Humanities Conference to be held at Georgetown University, March 23-24 2007.

Last year’s conference included a handful of “Law and Food” papers in different panels. They were all well-received, and the topics they addressed seem worthy of integration into a single panel. The panel’s goal will be to begin theorizing about the place(s) of food in the law by exploring both the different ways law treats food and the various cultural norms about food that lie behind this treatment. My work, for example, analyzes the copyrightability of recipes through the lenses of aesthetic philosophy and the cultural history of cooks and cooking.

Topics can include, but are not limited to:

Intellectual property rights in genetically modified foods
Hunger strikes and force-feeding prisoners
Last meals
Food torts, e.g. exploding sodas, fingers in chili, coffee in the lap
Government regulation of food and alcohol
Obesity regulation
Animal rights
Dietary laws and regulations in different cultures
Trademark rights in appellations of origin
Farm subsidies and international trade
Linguistic classification of food, e.g. kosher, 1st Growths, Organic
Sumptuary laws
Famine
Labeling, packaging, and branding
Rationing
Food stamps

The deadline for submissions to the conference is October 15, 2006, so please respond well before then if you think you might be interested in joining the panel. Also, please circulate this to any colleagues that might be interested. Feel free to contact me directly if you have any questions or comments.

Sincerely,
Christopher Buccafusco
chrstphr@uchicago.edu

Stephanie's Birthday Dinner at Spring

2006-08-22T09:05:00.000-05:00

Having taken the whole week off to celebrate her birthday, Stephanie thought that it would be nice to spend the time doing things that she doesn't normally get to do during the week when she's at work. So on her birthday we headed to Hot Doug's for lunch. Their Saturday lines are often too long, so it was nice to go during the week when we could get in quickly. Stephanie had her usual Chicago dog with cheese fries, and I enjoyed my last foie gras dog in Chicago (the ban goes in effect today) and a mushroom swiss pork sausage. This seemed like the perfect start to our big day of fine eating.

Sadly, dinner was unable to meet the high standard set by lunch at Doug's. We had reservation at 7:30 for Spring, a fairly fancy restaurant housed in an old bath house in Chicago's Wicker Park neighborhood. We'd been meaning to go for some time and were even more encouraged by the announcement of Chef Shawn McClain's James Beard Foundation Best Chef in the Midwest award. Spring, his first solo restaurant, is devoted to Asian-inspired fish, while newer restaurants focus on vegetables and steaks.

When we arrived, the dining room was less that half full, and it would remain so throughout the evening. Clearly the James Beard award does not do for a restaurant's business what 3 Michelin stars do or, for that matter, a Food & Wine "Best New Chef" award does (Schwa is booked for the next two months). I was fortunate that the restaurant was not more full, however, because the table we were seated at had a wobbly chair. The staff were nice enough to move us.

As we poured over the menu, Stephanie had the inspired idea of having a single raw oyster between each course of the meal. We checked with the waiter, and he agreed (if not gladly). The oysters were Rocky Points from Prince Edward Island, and they were far more enjoyable spaced out during the meal than consumed en masse at the outset. Each was presented on a bed of rock salt and dressed with cucumber mignonette and fresh wasabi. Unfortunately, these were the highlight of the meal.

Stephanie began the meal with a bowl of the chilled sweet corn chowder with peekytoe crab. She described it, in a way that would have made Bernard Loiseau proud, as "the essence of corn." I chose scallop and potato "raviolis" - scallop slices sandwiched between thin slices of potato and sauced with truffles and mushrooms. The concept was interesting, but when the sauce was poured over the crisp potatoes, they disintegrated into a murky pool of starch. The flavor of the scallops, however, was spot on.

After another oyster, we split an heirloom tomoto salad that was both beautiful and delicious. I would recount the varieties included but the waiter didn't know when asked and he made no effort to find out.

One more oyster, and the main courses were served. Stephanie chose the bluenose grouper with lobster and crab dumplings in shellfish broth. The dumplings were superb, and the broth was delicate and flavorful, but the grouper was overcooked, chewy, and lacking flavor. Stephanie recommended leaving out the fish and serving the course as a "wonton soup." It would have been much better.

I followed the waiter's advice, usually a good choice, and selected the sockeye salmon with fingerling potatoes and lobster mushrooms. The fish was overcooked and the Chinese stirfry sauce was exceedingly oily. Perhaps most disappointingly, as it showed the utter disregard of the kitchen staff, were the actual pieces of fish I received. Instead of receiving a single thick fillet of salmon perched on top of the other ingredients, I was served two small cuts from the tail of the fish (the worst cut), toppled over the plate, and with an enormous gash in the crisp skin. The woman next to me ordered the same dish and received a far superior product. It is difficult to believe that a kitchen like this would care so little. Perhaps Chef McClain had switched his kitchen staff for the evening, because our fish tasted like it was prepared at a steakhouse.

If only I could stop this tale of woe here, but doing so would neglect the rather poor service that we received. The waiter, as mentioned, was kind enough to agree to our oyster request, but no effort was made to describe the dishes. At a restaurant of this caliber, one expects the waiter to remind the diners what they are eating and perhaps to offer a comment about the preparation. Here, on the other hand, we couldn't even find out what the tomatoes were when we asked. The food runner was polite, and he congratulated us on our wise choice of the oysters, but the bus boy was exceedingly gruff when he wasn't being entirely unresponsive. He cleared the plates with visible distain and crumbed only half of one of our place settings. Perhaps he was having a bad day, but this is not the kind of service I expect for a James Beard award winner, or of an Applebee's for that matter.

Dinner at Moto

2006-08-21T13:27:00.000-05:00

I apologize for the blogging hiatus. We have been very busy celebrating Stephanie's birthday. More on that to follow.

Last Saturday, however, Stephanie was out of town, and I invited my friend John, a law professor who appeared earlier in this blog as Jonathan's dining companion at Le Bernardin, to a last-minute dinner at Moto. We took the 9:30 reservation, as it was all that was left as of Friday afternoon. Moto, for those unfamiliar with cutting-edge gastronomy, is one of these "molecular gastronomy" restaurants that serves food inspired and created by various scientific processes. Chef Homaro Cantu was kind enough to be interviewed for my paper on the copyrightability of recipes, and many of the dishes we consumed were created with patent-pending technologies.

The meal began when we were presented with edible menus that also served as both the amuse bouche and a legal statement. An edible strip of paper was attached to a piece of crisp bread, which were used to eat Indian-flavored lentils with preserved lemon. This was matched with the best cucumer juice shooter I've ever tasted. The shooter let us know that dinner would not simply offer a progression of "gee-whiz" flare but a seriously tasty gastronomic experience. The menu, however, very clearly warned us against attempting to recreate any of the chef's patent-pending techniques without first purchasing a license.

After some indecision about which tasting menu to order (the restaurant offers 5-course, 10-course, and the 20-course GTM menus), John and I settled on the GTM - Grand Tour of Moto - and we decided to order wine by the glass rather than purchase the course-by-course accompaniments. But more on the wine later.

Dinner began with a Vietnamese egg-drop soup, where the egg had been dipped in liquid nitrogen (as you will see, a familiar theme for the evening) and "cooked" in the warm, spicy soup. This was followed by one of our favorite courses of the evening, sweet corn ice cream with liquid nitrogen (LI) kernels and mussels and clams in bacony broth. Many of the courses, and most of the truly successful ones, made use of temperature contrasts such as this. By tacking between warm and cold, the meal seemed more like a dance than slog through a series of heavier and warmer courses. It made the 20 courses seem almost not insane.

The corn was followed by "synthetic champagne" where a liquid in a glass is combined tableside with a different liquid in a syringe over the glass, carbonating the resulting liquid, which, while tasty, bears little resemblance to champagne. Next came the only disappointing savory course, goat cheese snow with balsamic. The cheese had been dipped in LI and then shattered to create small white flakes. It was drizzled with the balsamic. I found the flavors too abrupt and poorly integrated. Another ingredient was necessary to bring them together - perhaps hills of bread.

The meal continued with a series of fish courses: hamachi sashimi (over-)marinated in "carbonated" clementine with parsnip puree, a delicious crab dish with passion fruit and "popcorn butter" sauce, and bass cooked in patented ovens placed on the table. This last course was served with heirloom tomato sauce and mushrooms. It was reasonably tasty, but John and I were surprised to have received very differently shaped pieces of fish.

The fish courses were briefly interupted for one of my favorite courses - "savory dippin dots" (no doubt a trademark violation on Chef Cantu's part). We received "peas and carrots," a spoon of frozen dots made from liquified and sweetned vegetable juices. I found it both delicious and playful.

We next received our meat courses. Tender bison in a red runner bean puree was eaten with patented "aromatic utensils," which sport spiral handles stuffed with sage leaves. After a bite of frozen jalapeno, we enjoyed a thrice seared beef ribeye with a pureed kielbasa sauce. The meat was divine; the sauce a bit peculiar and not especially helpful to the meat.

As we began a progression of nine sweet courses I noticed that John was looking a bit full. I think he had begun to wish that we had chosen the 10-course menu. John does not sport my well-earned girth, and having almost eaten himself to death at Joel Robuchon earlier in the month, Moto was proving to be quite a challenge for him. Committed gastronomer that he is, John tucked into the first "dessert" - mac & cheese where the "noodles" were made from hollowed out fruit and the cheese was a triple-cream mixed with white chocolate. The next dessert, "fettuccine alla dolce" was my favorite - sweetened pasta noodles (real noodles this time) with a lovely sauce. John really enjoyed the next dessert of cotton candy 3 ways - paper printed with cotton-candy flavored ink, a cotton candy truffle, and malanga root strips flavored with cotton candy and white chocolate.

By 1:30 am the finishing courses became something of a blur, but I must credit pastry chef Ben Roche for their daring contrasts of textures and flavors and their ability to put familiar sensations in unfamiliar contexts. Only one proved to over step the line, the next to last course of "chili-cheese nachos." At 2:15 the visual pun was simply too intense, as sweetened nacho chips were served with some kind of "cheese" and a salsa made of kiwi. I may have enjoyed this course had I tasted it earlier, perhaps after the mac & cheese, but 19th was too late to serve it.

The service at Moto was friendly, knowledgeable, and well-coordinated if a little less professional than one might expect for a bill this large. We received solid advice on wine selection, and our questions about techniques, ingredient sources, and other minutiae were all answered.

The wine program, however, leaves quite a bit to be desired. The wine list is quite small in comparison to similarly priced restaurants, and only four reds and four whites are offered by the glass. Admittedly, cuisine like this is not easy to match to wine. Even if you know what to match with shellfish, for example, how are you supposed to decide what to drink when the shellfish comes with a side of corn ice cream? We followed some of the staff's wine recommendations and went out on our own for others, but had little meaningful success either way. John and I seemed to agree that a diner at Moto is best served by choosing a glasses of white, red, and sweet wine that look interesting instead of making any attempt to match the wine to particular courses.

In sum, the dinner was a great success. The dishes were thoughtful, exciting, and most of all, delicious. Despite the muted decor, the atmosphere is alive with wonder and awe. I would happily go back and would strongly recommend even the 5-course meal for a very reasonable $65. Moto plays an important role in Chicago's current reputation as America's most innovative dining city.

Mas de Gourgonnier Les Baux en Provence 2003

2006-08-16T19:47:00.000-05:00

I have been reading Rudolph Chelminsky's intriguing and disturbing "The Perfectionist," a biography of the 3-star Michelin chef Bernard Loiseau. It's a fascinating book for anyone interested in French gastronomy, the role of the Michelin guide, or the development of nouvelle cuisine over the past 40 years. Loiseau was famous for, inter alia, his veal chop, and reading the book inspired me to prepare veal chops following in "le style Loiseau." The chops were browned in my best butter and olive oil, then transferred to the oven to cook through. I removed them from the pan to rest, while I deglazed with rose and veal stock, which I reduced to a glaze. At the end, I added the veal back to the pan to coat with the glaze, and served it with Stephanie's potatoes dauphinoise and an excellent Boston lettuce salad.

I paired the veal with a wine not from Loiseau's Burgundy region but from Les Baux en Provence in Southern France. It is medium-bodied but deep red in color. Stephanie detected hints of basil and boiled peanut. I found it ripe and round, but dry and minerally on the finish - no doubt from the bauxite in the soil (the mineral was named for this region where it was first discovered). No doubt a Gevrey-Chambertin would have been a better choice, but it was a pleasant wine for $12.

On the Legal Consequences of Sauces: Should Thomas Keller's Recipes be Per Se Copyrightable?

2006-08-11T19:41:00.000-05:00

A draft of my paper on the copyrightability of recipes in American law is now available at:
http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=923712

While writing this article, I was fortunate enough to interview Charlie Trotter, Thomas Keller, Rick Tramonto, Homaro Cantu, Norman van Aken, and Wylie Dufresne. Comments are welcome.

Chateau Phelan Segur Bordeaux Rosé 2005 - A True "Claret"

2006-08-11T19:32:00.000-05:00

The English call the wines of Bordeaux "claret" from the French word for "pink." This is because, many years ago, Bordeaux's wines were mostly rosés, not the deep reds and crisp whites we know today. A few producers still make a true claret, and tonight we tasted one in honor of the first day of Stephanie's vacation.

The meal began with baccala cakes with two sauces - corn and cilantro cream and orange and fennel "ketchup." With this we drank a rather robust and slightly funky Charles Elner Brut NV. The main course was homemade potato gnocchi in a crayfish and lobster mushroom ragout. This is where the rosé came in.

It had a slightly graying pink color, but a decidedly Bordeaux aroma of red fruits. Medium-bodies, dry, and crisp, it was just what a rosé should be. There is a hint of tannin, but the wine drinks beautifully.

(If my writing is less fluid than usual, I blame Emeril Lagasse whose show is playing in the background as I type.)

Call for Papers: Food, Law, and Culture Panel

2006-08-01T16:21:00.000-05:00

I am currently soliciting paper presentations for a new panel on “Food, Law, and Culture” for the annual Law, Culture, and Humanities Conference to be held at Georgetown University, March 23-24 2007.

Last year’s conference included a handful of “Law and Food” papers in different panels. They were all well-received, and the topics they addressed seem worthy of integration into a single panel. The panel’s goal will be to begin theorizing about the place(s) of food in the law by exploring both the different ways law treats food and the various cultural norms about food that lie behind this treatment. My work, for example, analyzes the copyrightability of recipes through the lenses of aesthetic philosophy and the cultural history of cooks and cooking.

Topics can include, but are not limited to:

Intellectual property rights in genetically modified foods
Hunger strikes and force-feeding prisoners
Last meals
Food torts, e.g. exploding sodas, fingers in chili, coffee in the lap
Government regulation of food and alcohol
Obesity regulation
Animal rights
Dietary laws and regulations in different cultures
Trademark rights in appellations of origin
Farm subsidies and international trade
Linguistic classification of food, e.g. kosher, 1st Growths, Organic
Sumptuary laws
Famine
Labeling, packaging, and branding
Rationing
Food stamps

The deadline for submissions to the conference is October 15, 2006, so please respond well before then if you think you might be interested in joining the panel. Also, please circulate this to any colleagues that might be interested. Feel free to contact me directly if you have any questions or comments.

Sincerely,
Christopher Buccafusco
chrstphr@uchicago.edu

Antichi Vignetti di Cantalupo Agamium Colline Novaresi 2003

2006-07-31T19:55:00.000-05:00

Stephanie and I were enjoying the first couple episodes of Friends on TBS, and we decided to pair Joey's long hair, Rachel's old nose, and a lot of high-waisted pants with this bottle of obscure Piedmont wine. On the side, we had grilled pork chops and asparagus and some of the best fennel and mushroom risotto I've ever had.

Colline Novaresi is located north of Piedmont in the northwestern corner of Italy. The primary grape varietal is nebbiolo, famous for its role in Barolo and Barbaresco, but here it's known as Spanna. It's a medium-bodied red wine, with moderate oak and raspberry and blueberry notes on the aroma. Stephanie detected a bit of ash on the palate, and I found it to resemble the slightly citrusy character of a Rhone wine. I'd recommend it with red sauces, pork, chicken, and veal.

Be the first on your block to try a bottle.

Chateau Rives-Blanques Chenin Blanc Dedicace Limoux 2003

2006-07-27T19:51:00.000-05:00

It's summer and it's very hot in Chicago, so I should be grilling, but I just can't stop purchasing fun cuts of meat to braise (that, and my grill isn't working). Tonight we had braised veal breast with white beans, carrots, and rosemary. The breast isn't terribly popular these days, but it's inexpensive and delicious. It has plenty of rich meat, some fat, and great bones for gelatinizing sauces.

To match I chose this Chenin Blanc from Southern France. Regular readers know how much I enjoy chenin, and I jumped at the chance to taste one from outside its normal French home (the Loire Valley). This was a very nice wine - dry, but with a certain roundness probably due to the intensely hot 2003 vintage. There's an aroma of wet dog, but once you get past it, the wine offers a nice mix of herb, grass, and melon notes. I'd prefer more acidity to increase its food-friendliness, but I guess it can't be helped in years like '03.

Bastille Day Eve Dinner

2006-07-14T15:19:00.000-05:00

Les Bleus may have lost the World Cup final, but we were still in enough of a Francophillic mood to celebrate Bastille Day Eve last night with a four-course dinner. It was, in fact, something of a Cask 79 reunion dinner as we were joined by co-blogger Jonathan, our first guest diner at the new house.

Dinner began with Stephanie leading the group in a rousing chorus of "Chant de guerre de l'Armée du Rhin," aka La Marseillaise. After the singing, we sat down to a course that I have been hoping to make for some time: Roasted Marrow Bones with Parsley Salad. The bones are soaked overnight in cold water, then dried and roasted for 20 minutes in the oven. The gooey marrow is then scooped onto toast with a bit of parsley salad. After debating with Charlie over what to serve with course, I chose a bottle of Henriot Champagne Souverain NV, hoping its acidity would cut the richness of the marrow. It did just that, and it even nicely matched the shrimp Stephanie grilled in lieu of the marrow.

The second course was a hearty lentil soup garnished with lardons and lavender. The lavender added pleasant flavor in addition to clarifying the French theme of the dinner. The main course consisted of grilled quails served over mashed red-skinned potatoes with creamers full of collard-green sauce on the side. I had prepared the collard sauce once before and again found it worked excellently with the gamy quail. The quail, and the soup before it, were paired with 2002 Volnay-Santenots 1er Cru from Thierry et Pascale Matrot. I love the values offered by pinot noirs from the Cotes du Beaune in southern Burgundy, and this one was no exception. It was only medium-bodied, but its red-fruit flavors, silky tannins, and background acidity made for a delicious gustatory chord. Like some of the others wines we've tasted recently, this one promised to confirm my belief that even medium-bodied wines can age exceptionally well.

Dinner was capped off with a wedge of Roquefort and a half-bottle of Carmes de Rieussec Sauternes 2003, the second wine of the famous Chateau Rieussec. It was rather light-bodied and not terribly sweet, but it showed hints of botrytis and nice acidity. This is one to drink early and often.

Someone then suggested that we storm something; I believe I recommended the National Guard building around the corner; but the mood passed and we finished the wine. Vive la France!

Nicholas Joly Savennieres Clos de la Bergerie 1997

2006-07-11T21:11:00.000-05:00

I had some time to kill before picking up my folks today, so I dropped by the House of Glunz on Wells Street. Every time I visit I marvel over the complete vertical of Nicholas Joly Savennieres Coulee de Serrant that they have dating back to 1992. When I have $1000 to blow on wine, these will be the first that I buy.

I love the chenin blanc grown in France's Savennieres appellation in the Loire Valley. For my money they are the best dry white wines available anywhere. Joly's Clos de la Bergerie is less exalted than the $80 Coulee de Serrant, but it is absolutely fanatastic. Joly practices biodynamic farming throughout his vineyards, and the corks tend to be covered in mold. But the wines are intensely flavored and perfectly structured, showing ripe fruit and bracing acidity. At nine years old, this wine was glorious and clearly improved the flavor of some rather middling pork chops. Even in the empty glass I can smell the lingering melon, honeysuckle, and peach notes. It could certainly last for another decade - unfortunately it was Glunz's last bottle.

Some Lovely Values from the New House

2006-07-11T20:56:00.000-05:00

We have been settling down on Hirsch Street this week and have enjoyed a series of delightful wines that I thought I'd put together in a single blog post.

First, I discovered a bottle of Chateau Haut Batailley 1999 from Bordeaux's famed Pauillac region on sale recently. We had it with the left over leg of lamb, this time served with a cucumber and wild mint sauce. At seven years old it was beginning to show some maturity. And while it lacked a long and intriguing finish, it performed admirably for a classified growth Bordeaux priced at only $16. The wines from '99 are worth seeking out; they're considerably cheaper and earlier-drinking than those from 1998 and 2000.

The following evening we drank another older $16-bottle, this time a Bodegas LAN Rioja Gran Riserva 1996. Made entirely of tempranillo grapes and smelling decidedly of black truffles, this medium-bodied wine proves that ageworthy wines don't have to be enormously ripe and extracted. I have since forgotten what we ate with it, but the wine an incredible value, perfect for game.

Breaking from these hoary bottles I took at stab at a bottle of Carmenere from Apaltagua in Chile's Colchagua Valley. Carmenere was originally a Bordeaux varietal that was transplanted in Chile and mistaken for Merlot in the 19th century. After the phylloxera attacks in France earlier in this century, it was not replanted in Bordeaux and was thought to be lost until grape geneticists discovered in growing in Chile. Carmenere is noted for its often overwhelming bell pepper aromas and flavors, and while this wine was unmistakably Carmenere, it managed to combine the earthiness of the peppers with some ripe fruit and a well-toned finish. At $12, this proved to be a remarkably food-friendly and well-balanced wine.

Cos d'Estournel St. Estephe 1995

2006-07-03T08:35:00.000-05:00

Stephanie and I just closed on our first home purchase, and to celebrate our ascension into the ranks of the landed gentry we selected a bottle of that most gentrified of wines, classified growth Bordeaux. Among a number of worthy contenders from the mid-1990s, we selected the Cos d'Estournel 1995 from the St. Estephe region on Bordeaux's left bank. Along with Ch. Montrose, "Cos," as it is known, was the highest ranking property in St. Estephe according to the 1855 classification (Deuxièmes Crus). To accompany such a noble wine, I roasted a whole leg of lamb (just for the two of us), and Stephanie prepared a delicious side dish of potato gratin.

The wine was bold, but not so big that it obscured the flavors of the lamb. At just over 10 years old, it struck a nice balance between lingering fruit and emerging maturity. The black currant notes folded over earth, lead, and fine tannins to create a wine of extraordinary depth and lasting pleasure. Like many other 95s, the Cos was just reaching the point where it wouldn't be considered totally inappopriate to begin drinking it, but its backbone of tannins, acidity, and forthcoming maturity indicates that it will offer many more years of enjoyable drinking.

Perhaps I'll buy another bottle to save for when we sell the house.

The World Cup Makes Me Hungry

2006-06-23T10:00:00.000-05:00

I've been following the World Cup on television during the mornings, and I've found that I get hungry for lunch earlier than I used to. I've decided that my desire to eat lunch at 10:30 must be due to a fairly quirky phrase that the announcers use. In addition to misconjugating verbs following team names (e.g. "Germany have to score now" instead of "Germany has to score now"), the announcers refer to the various free kicks, corner kicks, and penalty kicks as "set pieces." The idea is that the ball is at rest, and the offense is allowed to develop something like a "play" to try to score.

I suppose it's a fine phrase, but those familiar with gastronomic history know that "set pieces" are actually the English translation of the French "piéces montees." Piéces montees were elaborate confections created by pastry chefs to rest in the middle of medieval and early modern feasts. They were inedible and often included moving parts, firecrackers, and live animals. See the lovely movie Vatel for recreations. So now, everytime I listen to soccer I imagine myself carried back to a world of non-stop feasting. It's especially bad when I'm watching Les Bleus.

P.S. To any readers whose French is better than mine, I'd love to know if Le Monde, etc. refer to corner, penalty, free kicks as "piéces montees."

Neckenmarkt Blaufrankisch Classic Burgenland 2004

2006-06-07T08:53:00.000-05:00

Last night we made the mistake of roasting a chicken. Normally it wouldn't be a problem, but we have yet to install our air conditioners for the season, and our oven is incredibly inefficient. After an hour of cooking, the kitchen had reached 100 degrees. To accompany the bird, I made le Puy lentils and Stephanie prepared a salad with a bacon dijon vinaigrette, topping mine with a pair of poached quail eggs.

She chose this Austrian red to wash everything down. This is our second Austrian red in a couple of weeks, and I must admit to being quite pleased with the quality of the wines. Perfectly ripe and round, this wine showed a bouquet of floral and fruity aromas and flavors. It lacked the tannins and acidity to be particularly deep or profound, but despite this lack of structure, it was restrained and drinkable. While it went fine with the chicken, I'd prefer it as a sipping wine for cocktail parties and such. And with an $11 price tag, one could easily buy enough for a crowd.

Mas de Boislauzon Chateauneuf-du-Pape 2001

2006-06-02T09:50:00.000-05:00

Due to recent travels, Stephanie and I have been away from the kitchen for the past couple of weeks. We resumed our normal culinary routine last night when I grilled skirt steak roulades stuffed with carmelized shallots and chevre. Stephanie prepared polenta and assembled a green salad.

The local wine store was running a sale on some of its Chateauneuf's, so I picked up this bottle for only $20 (the average for CdP is between $30 and $70). Unfortunately, it seems, you get what you pay for. I should have been clued in by the unusual stamp on the bottle. Normally, CdP bottles portray the papal seal stamped in glass above the label.

This bottle, however, had only a representation of the pontiff's hat.

At five years old, it had lost much of its fruit character, but the earthly flavors that come with maturity had not yet made an appearance. The wine was rather too dry, with a somewhat chalky finish that eventually improved to taste of earl grey tea. For the money, I'd recommend buying a high-quality Gigondas or even one of the excellent Cotes-du-Rhone from Domaine les Aphillantes.

Le Bernardin

2006-05-31T16:05:00.000-05:00

I had my first experience with New York City haute cuisine this past weekend when John, another friend of this blog, joined me for lunch at Le Bernardin (his favorite restaurant -- and he is not alone). Bernardin specializes in seafood -- it's almost considered a crime to order anything else -- and we largely stuck to the theme. For my first course, I ordered a dish of raw wild salmon marinated in olive oil, lemon, and grapefruit juice, which I found exquisite and briskly refreshing. If anything, the tangy marinade slightly overwhelmed the taste of the salmon and could have been toned down slightly, but this was a very small concern -- the dish was terrific. John had layers of thinly pounded raw yellowfin tuna arrayed over thinly spread foie gras, and the rich taste of the tuna coupled with the even richer foie gras was a fabulous combination. These are not tastes that one is used to experiencing together, but they worked marvelously.

My main course was broiled scallops in a Bouillabaisse with clams, mussels, and vegetables. The scallops were done perfectly -- tender and delicious, and not overly "fishy" as lesser-quality scallops can tend to be -- and were complemented wonderfully by the excellent (though unspectacular) Bouillabaisse. John opted to order two additional first courses in lieu of a main course, and chose a sea urchin (uni) custard, served warm, and a foie gras terrine. (As readers of this blog are undoubtedly aware, foie gras will soon be illegal in the city of Chicago, and so native Chicagoans such as John are doing their best to consume as much as possible before then.) These two dishes were almost heart-stoppingly rich, and utterly fantastic. Probably like many other sushi eaters I'm used to uni being served cold, so the warm custard was an interesting and effective variation. The foie gras, not surprisingly, was decadent enough to die for, and -- if one were to consume enough -- that would probably be the outcome.

For dessert I ordered a chocolate-cashew tart accompanied by various sauces and reductions (caramel, banana, red wine) that was perhaps even more amazing than anything I had eaten to that point. The tart was extremely delicate and yet, needless to say, very rich, and not overly sweet. In fact, it so overwhelmed my taste buds (and my memory) that I have essentially no recollection of what John ordered, despite the fact that I tasted it. We also each ordered a glass of Chardonnay that was quite good but the name of which, unfortunately, I also cannot remember.

The food at Le Bernardin was, on the whole, magnificent, but the service also bears serious mention. Le Bernardin's service is the best that I have ever experienced, though not in the typical manner that one might expect. It wasn't "spectacular" or "flashy" in any sense; there wasn't any coordinated motion or trickery or flamboyant presentation. It was just perfectly timed and refreshingly informal; the waiters seemed relaxed and appeared to be enjoying themselves, the restaurant was accommodating of unorthodox requests (such as John's three first courses), and no one there seemed hung up on what a wonderful restaurant it was. I even appreciated the fact that the waiters (all of whom were genuinely French) wrote our orders down in small notebooks. There was no need to impress us with their incredible memories; they just wanted to get the orders right and deliver them promptly. And needless to say, whenever my water glass neared the point of being empty someone would magically appear and fill it, and whenever I had picked up the last remaining morsel of bread someone would arrive and offer me another piece. In typical French fashion, Le Bernardin also did not bring us the check until we asked for it, a nice change from typically time-crunched American dining. Le Bernardin's reputation as one of the best restaurants in New York is, in my opinion, well-deserved, and at the extremely reasonable price of $51 for a three-course lunch it was very much worth the trip.

Tijou Savennieres Clos des Perrieres 2000

2006-05-18T09:47:00.000-05:00

Yesterday we enjoyed one of our best, an easiest, homemade dinners in a long time. We had a frisee salad which Stephanie dressed with a vinaigrette of dijon mustard, sherry vinegar, and rendered bacon fat, topped with slab bacon and poached quail eggs. It was sublime. I grilled a whole golden trout that turned out to be the best fish I have made in ages. The flesh was a beautiful golden color, lighter than salmon but darker, and richer, than the standard rainbow trout. It was grilled simply, with only salt and pepper and a sprig of rosemary in the cavity.

Sadly the wine I chose to accompany the meal didn't show as well. 2000 was a tough vintage for France's Loire valley, and five years of bottle age did nothing to improve this bottle of chenin blanc. Regular blog readers will know that I have been fascinated with chenin (and chenin taste-alikes like falanghina) lately, but this bottling had neither the racy acidity nor round melon and stone-fruit flavors that make Savennieres my go-to wine. I'd love to try it in a better vintage.

Caves Cidis Gamaret La Cote 2003 (Switzerland)

2006-05-11T14:25:00.000-05:00

We celebrated the acceptance of our offer on a new house last night with a roasted pheasant in natural jus. It was accompanied by a saute of spring vegetables - Trumpet royale mushrooms, ramps, fiddlehead ferns, and favas. I should have a picture up soon.

The pheasant seemed like a fine time to try out a Swiss red wine that I had picked up recently. The grape varietal was Gamaret, which the label claims is a hybrid Gamay grape, most famously from Beaujolais, and an indigenous grape called Reichensteiner. The wine had a surprisingly dark color and full body - certainly more so than a standard Beaujolais cru wine. It did have the anticipated red fruit, especially cherry, notes and some oak. The finish was rather short for the slightly gamy pheasant, but it would have been just fine with chicken or pasta. Like its half-brothers from Beaujolais, it certainly improves when served at a slightly lower temperature.

Time to get back to French wines now.

Markowitsch Carnuntum Cuvee 2003 - An Austrian Red

2006-05-09T11:50:00.000-05:00

Although it's Spring here in Chicago, in the Southern Hemisphere autumn is arriving, and thanks to worldwide food distribution, we were able to enjoy some delicious grilled venison chops last night. Stephanie sauteed some dandelion greens, and I glazed some yellow carrots. The venison was perfect, and I hope the grocery stores make an effort to keep it in stock. It's a pleasant respite from the endless cycle of chicken, beef, lamb, pork, and fish.

I got a little daring at the wine shop this weekend and broke from my usual francophilia. I chose a pair of reds from Austria, the first of which we drank with the venison. Although I didn't know it, Markowitsch is one of the country's top producers, and their reputation seemed well-earned after tasting their entry-level Carnuntum Cuvee. It's a blend of 80% zweigelt, an indigenous varietal, and 20% pinot noir. Surprisingly full-bodied, the wine displayed inviting red fruit flavors and hinted at that citrusy note one occassionally finds in the Southern Rhone. Not overly tannic, it paired supremely well with the meaty yet lean venison, and it would prove a welcome companion for good pork, beef stew, and especially, duck. At $12, it's worth buying a case, and it encouraged me to seek out their better bottlings.

A lovely Spring day

2006-05-07T19:55:00.001-05:00

The weather in Chicago was beautiful today, and we took advantage of it with some springtime gastronomic treats. Around three o'clock, I celebrated the day with a perfect pairing of fried smelts and North Coast Brewing's Silver Jubilee belgian farmhouse ale. The malt and yeast in the beer matched excellently with the salty fish. I'm a little unsure about the this 25th anniversary bottling though. The website claims that the brewery was founded in 1988, and I still have a few bottles of the ten year anniversary ale, one of the best I've ever tasted. But here comes this beer, asserting that the brewery was established in 1980. What gives?

Dinner began will an interesting appetizer of grilled, stuffed squid based on a recipe from Batali's show. They were excellent, if a little cocoon-like, and they paired well with a bottle of Chatelain Pouilly-Fume 2004. It was good, but perhaps not worth the $20 price tag. Dinner proceeded with the last of our fiddlehead ferns, expertly sauteed by Stephanie, and served over whole grilled rainbow trout. I had chosen a bottle of gruner from Kurt Angerer, but it was corked. Alas, I'll have to drink the bottle of Armagnac I purchased today. Maybe even a Padron cigar to end the evening.

J. W. Lee's Harvest Ale Lagavulin Cask

2006-05-05T10:15:00.000-05:00

Although I usually deal with wine on this blog, beer was my first true love. Last night I had the opportunity to rekindle that romance at a beer tasting I held for my fellow History of Culture students. We drank a number of the world's best beers - Cantillon Rose de Gambrinus, Traquair House Ale, Dogfish Head 120 Minute IIPA, Westmalle Tripel, Rochefort 10, &c. - but the standout was clearly J.W. Lee's Harvest Ale. I have had versions of the Harvest Ale in the past, but the brewery has recently been producing a number of beers aged in special casks - port, sherry, whisky. This one, the rarest, had been aged in Lagavulin scotch whisky casks. Anyone who knows me knows my love of this whisky, so, of course, I was excited to try Lee's beer. It was full-bodied and malty, with considerable sweetness. The caramel flavor was balanced by the alcohol and a certain estery aroma. But the dominant flavor was a rich and satisfying peatiness from the Islay casks. It was different from the smoky flavors acheived in German rauchbier or even in Alaska Brewing's famous beechwood Smoked Porter. It was, perhaps counterintuitively, more deeply ingrained in the caramel malt character of the beer (I say counterintuitively because for smoked beers, the smoke is indeed part of the malt whereas for the Lee's beer, the smoke is merely an attached facade). Definitely a drink to be savored after dinner, this Lee's has jumped to the top of my favorite beers.

Terredora Dipaolo Falanghina Irpinia 2004

2006-04-27T10:34:00.000-05:00

Our fiddlehead fern and ramp dinners continued last night with confited ramps and chicken breasts in fern sauce. I love spring. After tasting a wine made from falanghina at Spiaggia last weekend, I picked up another bottle from a different producer and served it with this light meal. It performed admirably, again tasting much like a chenin blanc. Unlike the great chenins from Savenierres, however, this bottle sells for about $10. Medium-bodied and ripe without being sweet, it would pair well with a variety of lighter pastas, meats, and fish. It's a trememdous way to break away from chardonnay, sauvignon blanc, and the like.

Ramp Confit recipe:
Clean as many ramps as you care to eat and remove leaves from bulbs. Reserve leaves. Place bulbs in an overproof dish or small saucepan and cover with your lipid of choice. I recommend a blend of clarified butter and canola oil. Place in a 200F oven for 45 minutes until cooked through. Allow to cool in oil. Remove bulbs from the oil and pat dry with paper towels. Arrange a few leaves on a plate and place bulbs on top. Sprinkle with sea salt and pepper. To eat, wrap bulbs in leaves.

Chateau La Graviére Cotes-de-Bourg 2003

2006-04-26T14:10:00.000-05:00

As you will have noticed, our yearly delivery of fiddlehead ferns and ramps arrived yesterday. We will be enjoying these delightful vegetables at every meal until they run out. For the initial offering, we decided to keep things simple - Stephanie pan roasted pork chops and we prepared a delicious ragout of ferns, onions, and garlic in a natural jus. The ferns are rich and fragrant, tasting of the earth and of life itself (well maybe that's going a bit far, but they're really good).

We paired the dish with another installment of our Bordeaux 2003 tasting, this time from the lowly Cotes-de-Bourg region on the north side of the Gironde. Not to be confused with the wine of the same name made in Lalande-de-Pomerol, this La Graviére is made by Jacques Rodet and is the second wine of his also-unknown Chateau Brulescaille estate. For the low price tag (~$10), it was passable, owing to decent concentration of fruit and a reasonably harmonious balance. The nose and palate were dominated by raw green bell pepper and cracked black pepper notes coming from the healthy percentage of cabernet franc in the blend. Good, but certainly not the wine to introduce the ferns with.

They're Here!!!

2006-04-25T09:58:00.000-05:00

The anticipation!!!

What Joy!!!

Taurino Notarpanaro Salento 1999

2006-04-24T08:17:00.000-05:00

Stephanie had to work most of the day on Sunday so we ordered a New York style pizza and opened this bottle of southern Italian wine. Made from Negro Amaro and Malvasia Nera, the grape names in no way imply the color, a shimmering garnet. I'm not certain, but I would guess that at least a portion of the grapes used were dried on mats prior to pressing as is done in the Veneto's Amarone wines. Here the aromas were of dried fruits and berries. It was medium-bodied on the palate, with a dry finish. If you are a fan of flashy Aussie shirazs, avoid this wine like the plague. On the other hand, if you are adventurous and are planning a meal of veal, chicken, or pasta in red sauce, it's worth seeking out.

Wine Label Zoo

2006-04-23T16:11:00.001-05:00

The New York Times has an article on its website now about the increasing percentage of wine labels depicting animals. Infamous recent examples include Yellow Tail, Goats du Roam, etc. While most of these wines are inexpensive, there are a number of more expensive and established wines that use animals on their labels. Excellent California wineries like Frog's Leap, Stag's Leap (Winery and Wine Cellars), and Screaming Eagle all have animal labels, but what about Old World wines? French wines are much more likely to have images of chateaux, crests, or portraits, but there are a few that use animals. Here are a couple I can think of. Please post others in the comments.

Domaine de Baumard Clos du Papillon Savennieres (butterfly)
Ch. Mouton Rothschild (ram)

Les Heretiques Vin de Pays de l'Herault 2004

2006-04-20T11:15:00.000-05:00

We have been shopping for a new home in the neighborhood and last night we reached an agreement to buy a lovely gray brick building on an extrawide lot right next to the park. We're very excited. Of course, this means we'll be pretty poor for a while, so it was only appropriate that we celebrated with a $7 bottle of wine.

This wine comes from the VdP de l'Herault region of the Languedoc in southern France (the same place as the more famous Mas de Daumas Gassac). Presumably, it is some blend of caringan, grenache, syrah, and possibly cinsault, mourvedre, and countless other varietals. Medium-bodied, dry, and earthy, it is a great example of my argument that the best value wines actually come from France and not, as many in the wine press would have you believe, from Australia, Chile, and Argentina. Unlike most of the value wines from the latter group, the wines of this region tend to balance ripe fruit (in this case, plums) with clear tannins and an acidic backbone, making them much better accompaniments to food. I suspect we'll be drinking a lot of this wine for the next few months.

Happy Easter-versary

2006-04-19T10:55:00.000-05:00

On Sunday Stephanie and I celebrated the anniversary of our engagement. I proposed last Easter (you can see pictures on her blog), and rather than remember the exact date, we decided to celebrate the anniversary on Easter each year. My present from her was brunch at Spiaggia, Chicago's top Italian restaurant. They don't normally do a brunch, so we didn't know what to expect. Of course, it was fabulous.

We arrived for our 11:30 reservation, dressed to celebrate the season. I wore a tan and white seersucker suit with a light purple shirt, yellow tie, and purple pocket square, and Stephanie wore a pretty blue striped top with white linen pants. She looked lovely, if a little embarassed to be seen with me.

We chose the four-course prix fixe menu, which gave us choices of antipasto, primi, and segundi followed by dessert. Stephanie started with roasted lobster tail, and I had olive oil poached scampi with micro cilantro and coriander. Both were excellent and accentuated by celebratory glasses of Prosecco, Italy's most famous sparkling wine. My second course was a rich, dense lobster claw with homemade spaghetti and a deep sauce made from lobster stock. It paired excellently with a glass of Sannio Falanghina, a white wine from Campania that started with a pit of piquancy and ended round and rich like a great chenin. Stephanie had perfect gnocchi in truffle sauce that, we had to admit, were better than those served at Tru. It was matched with a glass of Grignolino from Heitz Vineyards in Napa, CA. I, like most of the world, am an admirer of Heitz's classic Napa cabernets, but I was not familiar with this bottling of a red Piedmont varietal. It was highly aromatic, with perfumey floral notes and a medium body. Stephanie compared it to the Guigal Hermitage Blanc we had at our first date at Five and Ten almost three years earlier.

Stephanie ordered a roularde of guinea hen with a different, yet equally enjoyable, truffle sauce for her main course. It paired very well with a Sicilian wine from Cerasuolo di Vittoria. I chose the beef tenderloin, crusted in marrow with purple potato puree and hen of the wood mushrooms. The beef was fine, if a little mild, but the combination ended up tasting distinctly and unavoidably of deep-fried corn tortillas. I can't explain it, but it's true. The aglianico from Terradora di Paolo, with its powerful pipe tobacco aroma, was, at least, an enjoyable match. We finished with excellent desserts of hazelnut gelato and moscato sformatto but passed on the grappa as it was only 3pm. It was a great meal and a perfect way to celebrate.

Legal Regulation of Food

2006-04-19T10:30:00.000-05:00

I know I owe the world an entry on our wonderful Easter-versary brunch at Spiaggia, and it's on the way, but I wanted to briefly mention a couple of interesting items on law and food. My university is particularly involved in these issues, and I thought it would be nice to bring them to your attention.

First is a column by William Saletan on "The War on Fast Food," where he predicts the development of a crusade against the fast food industry. Saul Levmore, the dean of the UofC law school, has been blogging on this topic recently, and both are worth reading.

Also on the Chicago Law Faculty Blog, Jeff Leslie and Cass Sunstein have been posting on animal welfare regulation. In short, they propose the adoption of labeling standards indicating the level of animal cruelty involved in the production of meat for food. As with Free-Trade coffee and free-range chickens, consumers can make their preferences felt through their buying habits since the treatment of the animals involved would be more salient. It's an interesting proposal, but it seems to raise some of the same concerns that I have written about regarding the moral indignation accompanying "organicism," i.e. the potential for poor people who chose to purchase the presumably cheaper meat from cruelly treated animals to be viewed with disdain and disgust by those capable of paying the cruelty-free premiums. Such people will be forced to choose between providing for their families or following their moral disinclination to eat meat from cruelly treated animals.

Ch. Duhart-Milon 2003, Ch. d'Armailhac 2003, and Ch. d'Issan 2003

2006-04-12T20:16:00.000-05:00

Sadly today marks the end of our Bordeaux 2003 tasting. Of course, we'll be sampling many more in the future (at least if we don't buy a house), but this will have been our most systematic endeavour. We finished with a meal of grilled Italian sausage with peppers and onions and a side of Stephanie's indescribably delicious cole slaw.

The Duhart-Milon was the first of two wines from the Paulliac region on Bordeaux's left bank, home of some of Bordeaux's greatest chateaux (Latour, Mouton Rothschild, and Lafitte Rothschild - the last of which is responsible for this wine). It was a pleasure to drink, with bold fruit and very fine tannins. The mid-palate was expansive, spreading through the mouth softly but with a purpose. It gave off a hint of alcohol (not surprising from such a warm vintage), but it only served to highlight the character of the fruit and wood. I only wonder if a wine as supple as this will fair well over the long haul.

Chateau d'Armailhac is associated with the other great family of Bordeaux Rothschilds, the Moutons. Like the Duhart-Milon, it is not a second wine of the "grand vin" but rather an independent estate bottled under the auspices of its more famous uncle. Oak and dark fruit predominate on the nose, with a candied cherry burst through the mid-palate. The tannins here are firmer, but the finish in decidedly shorter.

The Chateau d'Issan is a delightful wine with an unfortunate label. Although a 3rd Growth in the 1855 classification, this chateau was not performing well in the wine press. The 03 is, as I said, delightful, and as the only Margaux in the tasting, it proved an excellent representative of its appellation. Soft in texture and fruit, the wine was silky on the palate with round raspberry and dark cherry notes. Stephanie compared the aroma to the ocean. Tasted blind I would have thought that it came from one of the predominantly merlot growing regions like St. Emilion or Pomerol.

After a week of new vintage Bordeaux, I think it's time to drink some light white wines and hope my tooth enamel will regrow.

Ch. Smith Haut Lafitte 2002 and 2003

2006-04-12T10:16:00.000-05:00

We broke from the strict Bordeaux 2003 trend last night to compare the 2002 and 2003 vintages of Chateau Smith Haut Lafitte's red wine from the Pessac-Leognan appellation. I recently tasted the 1995 and found it a little lacking in stuffing, but the newest vintages were firmer and rounder. Known as a graceful wine, neither overwhelmed with fruit, earth, or tannin. Not surprisingly, the wines were very similar with complex fruits and spices combined with a long, tight finish. The most notable difference was in the mid-palate, where the 2003 flowed over the tongue while the 2002 barely paused. This difference made the 03 feel fuller and more coherent from the front to the back of the mouth. While the 2003 was certianly better, the difference will only be meaningful for most drinkers (myself included) in the long term. Over the next few years, those looking for a ready to drink Bordeaux would be advised to purchase the much cheaper 2002.

Ch. Sociando Mallet 2003 & Ch. d'Aiguilhe 2003

2006-04-10T20:32:00.000-05:00

Our 2003 Bordeaux tasting continued tonight alongside grilled Praire Grove Farm pork tenderloin, white rice, and delicious braised kale. To match, I chose the two wines with the highest percentages of merlot in their blends, the Sociando-Mallet from the Haut Medoc region on Bordeaux's left bank and the d'Aiguilhe from the promising Cotes de Castillon appelation on the right bank.

Sociando-Mallet has been a favorite of mine for a while. It's status as a "cru bourgeois" wine means that its price remains low, but the its quality is simply superb. This vintage is classically structured, with a deep, oaky aroma matched by complex earth and spice notes on the palate. The tannins are substantial, but they don't prohibit enjoying the wine even in its infancy. In fact, its mature profile would suggest that the wine is at least a decade old already. I consider this a benefit. Unmistakably bordeaux.

The d'Aiguilhe is owned by the impeccably dressed Count Stephan von Niepperg, who also owns Canon Gaffeliere and La Mondotte in the St. Emilion region of Bordeaux. The beverage sub judice is his version of "slumming it," as he ventures into the much less fashioable Cotes de Castillon region. Predominantly merlot, this wine is modern in style with soft curves and ripe fruit. Regular readers will assume that such a description amounts to a death sentence on this blog, but the d'Aiguilhe is an exception. Whatever it lacks in tannin and acidic structure it more than makes up for in complex fruit aroma and flavor. Rarely have I tasted a wine with such a deep and sophisticated fruit profile, such that a mere listing of the detected scents would only diminish the wine's appeal. Although perhaps not classic bordeaux, the world would be a better place if American and Australian merlot vintners would make wine like this.

Tomorrow we'll taste either a pair of Pauillacs or an 02 vs. 03 showdown of Smith Haut Lafitte. Tell your friends.

Ch. Branaire-Ducru and Ch. Lagrange 2003

2006-04-09T20:24:00.000-05:00

I was fortunate enough to stumble upon a hefty stash of 2003 Bordeaux half bottles at the local wine shop, so we'll be offering some notes on them for the next few days. According to most authorities, 2003 promises to be one of Bordeaux's better vintages (although it seems like they are saying this more and more lately). The weather in France was incredibly hot, so most of the wines are ripe and well-extracted.

Both of these wines come from the St. Julien appelation on Bordeaux's left bank. This means that they are composed of primarily Cabernet Sauvignon with additions of Merlot, Cabernet France, and possibly Malbec and Petit Verdot. The Branaire-Ducru was exuberant and fleshy, with a smoky, toasty nose and a round mouthfeel. The tannins are firm, but reasonably well integrated with the fruit and acid. I found it a bit overdone at this stage in its life, but I suspect that the oak will mellow nicely, producing a rich, complex wine in a decade or so.

Chateau Lagrange is an up-and-coming estate, whose 2000 wine was very well received in the wine press. It too had a smoky aroma that I found a bit sweeter and baconier than the Branaire. The heat from the vintage shows in the significantly alcoholic aroma that detracts from the wine's overall impression. We both found it more fruity than the Branaire but offering less character, complexity, and substance.

Look forward to notes on the Smith Haut Lafitte, Duhart-Milon, and others in the next few days.

Fayolle Crozes-Hermitage Les Pontaix 1998

2006-04-08T09:26:00.000-05:00

Stephanie had a particularly awesome day at court yesterday (and a dreadful salad for lunch), so I decided to grill up a nice piece of beef and pair it with an older wine. I grilled a bone-in ribeye and served it with Stephanie's carmelized onions and a red wine sauce. We had roasted red potatoes and roasted yellow and red belgian endive with chevre. Everything was fabulous, and it matched well with a seven year old wine from France's northern Rhone valley.

Crozes-Hermitage is one of the "lesser" regions of the northern Rhone, but it's wines are excellent values, and in good vintages, they can stand a bit of bottle age. Presumably 100% syrah, this bottle showed excellent mature flavors and aromas of earth and dried fruit. It really came around after being open for a while, and it's medium-full body and refined tannins played well off the steak. Although most people won't be able to find this one still on the shelves, Chicago readers can locate it at the House of Glunz on Wells Street.

Beaujolais Tasting

2006-04-06T09:23:00.000-05:00

Stephanie and I enjoyed a roast chicken dinner last night with scallion and sour cream mashed potatoes and individual terrines of creamed spinach. I had been saving a couple of half bottles of beaujolais for such a dinner. The wines, from the 2001 vintage, were produced by Alfred Gino Bertolla at Domaine du Granit, and they both come from the smaller appellation, or "cru", of Moulin-a-Vent. Although most Americans are familiar with beaujolais only for its mass-marketed, quickly made "nouveau" released in the Fall, this region on the south side of Burgundy produces a number of excellent wines that are capable of significant aging. And they all cost less than $20. Interestingly, as a marketing ploy, whomever labeled these bottles called them "Red Burgundy Wine," eschewing the association with beaujolais all together. Like all beaujolais wines, however, these were made from the gamay grape, rather than burgundy's pinot noir.

The only difference between the two wine labels is that one reads "La Rochelle" and the other "Les Caves." I initially thought these represented different vineyards, but now I believe they are just different winemaking styles. The La Rochelle was a fairly classic beaujolais - red cherries, with a touch of sourness, some oak but fairly restrained, and of medium body and extraction. Its sister, the Les Caves, was far more modern, with a rich aroma of spicy, smoky oak and a broader and riper fruit profile. It bordered on Aussie shiraz. Regular readers of this blog will of course anticipate that I preferred the former, as it matched my expectations and complemented the food better.

Food and Society Conference

2006-04-03T13:39:00.000-05:00

I'm excited to announce that I have been invited to present a paper at the annual conference of the Association for the Study of Food and Society. The conference is meeting in Boston, on June 7-11. I will be presenting my work on the copyrightability of recipes currently titled "On the Legal Consequences of Sauces: Should Thomas Keller's Recipes be Per Se Copyrightable?" The first part of the title is derived from Lancelot Sturgeon's 19th century "stomachical" essays, and the last part is a lame play on the name of Keller's NYC restaurant. Check out the society's website. They have lots of interesting information.

Fiddleheads and Ramps!!!

2006-04-03T13:24:00.000-05:00

Spring is in the air - well, at least it was last Thursday - and you know what that means - FIDDLEHEAD FERNS!!! The world's greatest vegetable begins its incredibly short growing season in a few weeks, so now is the time to place your order. Stephanie and I first tasted these wonderful delights at Hugh Acheson's Five & Ten restaurant in Athens, Ga a few years ago, and we have been ordering them from Earthy Delights ever since (www.earthydelights.com). They're not cheap, but they're absolutely worth it.

Fiddleheads are the shoots of the ostrich fern. They are harvested a couple weeks after breaking through the soil when the plant is curled back on itself like the head of a violin. Their flavor is deep and earthy, and they are best quickly sauteed in olive oil with a bit of lemon. Or you can do like we do and order three or four pounds of them and try to invent new combinations. They're only around for about a month, so don't miss out.

And while you're at it, buy a pound of ramps, i.e. baby leeks, for grilling or pickling.

A Visit from Sir Jeffington

2006-04-03T12:53:00.000-05:00

Stephanie and I welcomed a visit from her cousin Jeff this weekend. He stopped off in Chicago for a few days on a cross-country (car) trip to Montana after graduating from medical school. Stephanie had to work, so I had the pleasure of showing Jeff around Chicago's many gastronomic hotspots. He arrived late Wednesday evening and was greeting with grilled Praire Groves Farm pork tenderloin and a bottle of Vino Nobile. The pork was the most tender I have eaten at home. Although twice the price of the grocery store brand, the added flavor was worth it.

Thursday began with a carbo load of bagels before a bike ride to the Loop to meet Stephanie for lunch at PotBelly sandwich shop. Jeff and I then toured Millennium Park and stopped off at Up Down Tobacco for some pipe tobacco and a gorgeous 100th Anniversary Davidoff cigar. I smoked the Davindoff last night with some Lagavulin 16, and it was divine.

But back to our trip. From Up Down we rode to the Goose Island Brewery. Jeff is a beer aficionado and wanted to sample the local suds. Everything was solid, but the highlight had to be the Barleywine brewed to celebrate their 2000th batch. It was excellent with a platter of sausages. We wobbled across the street to Sam's (the wine shop not the big-box store, although you'd never know from the size of the buildings) to admire the beer selection. We chose some unusual bottles to sample at home and I got into a heated debate about Trappist ales with the beer specialist (it turns out we were both right but I was more right than he was). After a wobbly bike ride home, we settled in for some Chicago-style pizza and a fabulous bottle of Rodenbach Grand Cru. There was some risk of this Flemish brewery going out of business, but they seem to be doing well. Michael Jackson, the beer writer not the pop star, once called this sour red ale the most refreshing beer in the world, and he couldn't be more right. What a treat!

Friday also began with bagels, but our butts hurt too much to try to ride bikes again. We drove to lunch at the infamous Hot Doug's (previously mentioned on these pages). Jeff had his first Chicago-style dog, and we added a smoked pheasant sausage, a ribeye sausage with roasted garlic cloves, and an unbelievably delicious toulouse sausage with saffron rouille. Jeff was sure getting his fill of encased meats. That night Stephanie made reservations at the Green Dolphin Street jazz club. Dinner was fairly good - grilled meats with a la carte sides - but a bit overpriced. The free admission to club softened this blow, however. The wine list was very strong in American reds, and there were even a few unusual deals. The music was superb and tremendously entertaining, as was the Ardbeg 10 I drank while enjoying it.

On Saturday we met some friends for a late breakfast at Lou Mitchell's, a Chicago landmark diner. The sausages and bacon were some of the best I have eaten, but this may have been due to the free doughnut holes they used to quicken our appetites. We then went to a vintage poster show ostensibly sponsored by Wine Spectator. Although the posters were amazing, WS had no perceivable presence. That was the only disappointment in an otherwise fascinating exhibit. By mid afternoon we were running out of steam, so we lounged around the house watching the rather boring basketball. Appetites were again whetted, however, by a couple dozen kumomoto oyster and bottles of stout. Stephanie insisted that we keep dinner light, so I made linguine with mussels washed down with a bottle of dry Aussie riesling. Very satisfying.

Jeff visit was a great pleasure. I was glad to introduce him to some of Chicago's best culinary offerings - mostly charcuterie and alcohol - and I was glad that he reacquainted me with pipe smoking. I purchased a new one, and I look forward to learning to smoke it.

Valentine's Day Lunch and Dinner

2006-02-16T17:03:00.000-06:00

Stephanie and I celebrated Valentine's Day fairly quietly although very deliciously. She made reservations for us to have lunch at one of my favorite restaurants - Blackbird (see earlier post). The food there is always so satisfying, so mouth-watering to type about. Stephanie began with a spicy salmon tartare with avocado and homemade saltine. Then she had her favorite pork belly sandwich with b&b pickles. It's so good. After taking a bite, you don't even want to wipe your mouth for all the delicious flavor still on your lips. I began with the confit of suckling pig, a dish I've been looking forward to trying. My main course was a phenomenal bouillabaisse. Everything was perfect.

That evening for dinner I prepared a Valentine's themed meal. The first course was cream of tomato soup with pink shrimp served with Bellefon Cuvée des Moines Brut Rosé Champagne NV. Next was veal involtini with mushrooms in a pink peppercorn rosé sauce and mashed pink-skinned potatoes. It was accompanied by a bottle of Domaine du Joncier Lirac Rosé 2004. Dessert was a simple pink grapefruit granite. Everything turned out very well, and Stephanie seemed to enjoy it. I can't wait until my green St. Patrick's Day meal (don't worry, there won't be very many vegetables).

My Visit With Charlie Trotter

2006-01-26T09:57:00.000-06:00

As some readers of this blog know, I am currently working on a law review article examining the copyrightability of recipes in American law. I decided that it would be useful to interview master chefs to discuss their thoughts on originality, creativity, recipes, and the Western culinary tradition to better understand how recipes function for people at the top of their profession (one might, of course, say "art"). Last week I called up Charlie Trotter's and left the chef a voicemail telling him of my project and requesting a time for an interview. He returned my call on Monday, proposing that we meet on Wednesday. I immediately accepted.

I arrived at the restaurant about fifteen minutes early and was greeted by someone on the staff. Charlie would be right out, I was told, and I was given a seat in the studio where they film Kitchen Sessions with Charlie Trotter. The chef appeared in a few minutes, and we removed to the bar. He was a very pleasant and friendly gentleman, and he answered my questions for over half an hour. Chef Trotter likens cooking to jazz music, and he had plenty of insight into my subject matter.

After thirty minutes or so, the chef recommended that we move the site of the interview, saying that "we don't want this to be just an ordinary interview." Barely able to control my excitement, I was led into the kitchen and was seated at a table set for one. I was introduced to chef de cuisine Mathias Merges who sat down with me and answered more of my questions for another hour and a half. During this time I was served an elaborate five-course lunch with expertly paired wines.

Lunch began with a duo of olive oil poached salmon with smoked salmon roe and monkfish liver served with eel terrine. It was marvelous. The smoked roe seemed inspired by my favorite Scottish whiskies, and the monkfish live and eel expertly combined sweet and bitter components. The next course was buttermilk poached poulard breast with pomegranate gastrique paired with a delightful sauvi blanc from Justin Winery. This was followed by turbot and kumomoto oyster with watermelon radish and grapefruit served with sake. The meat course was a gorgeous preparation of roasted squab with black trumpet mushrooms, oxtail, collard greens, and braised carrots. It was paired with Brooks Pinot Noir 2004. Finally, I was presented with a light and refreshing dessert of fuji apples with butterscotch and rye crisp matched with Isole e Olena's Vin Santo 1998.

Everything was beyond my wildest expectations. Chefs Trotter and Merges were incredibly gracious with their time and their patience answering all of my inartfully worded questions. While I ate, members of the staff wandered by and introduced themselves to me, sharing insights about food, wine, recipes, and cooking. All of their ideas will certainly appear in my finished paper. I was very lucky to have this opportunity, and I am very grateful to everyone at the restaurant.

La Chablisienne Chablis Premier Cru Mont de Milieu 2002

2006-01-26T09:42:00.000-06:00

One of our local wine shops had a sale on French wines last weekend, and we picked up a few bottles of this Chablis to add to our cellar. Stephanie and I decided to prepare a nice Sunday dinner, however, and selected one of the bottles to accompany the meal. Stephanie began with a tasting of soups served in my new Valdrome demitasse cups. She prepared a subtle but interesting cauliflower soup and a deep and rich potato chowder with bacon and chives. The main course was one of my favorite dishes and one of the first I learned to cook - veal saltimbocca.

Chablis is the northern most region of Burgundy, and although it shares the same grape varietal with the wines of Montrachet, Corton-Charlemagne, and Mersault (i.e. Chardonnay), its wine tend to be leaner and more minerally. This wine, from one of Chablis's top producers, splendidly represented the style of the region. Stephanie and I both enjoyed the balance of crisp apple flavors with the chalk and slate textures on the finish. It displayed a truly expanisive mid-palate, where the fruity opening mingled with the acidic finish. Stephanie declared it among the best white wines she has had.

We were very pleased with the wine and it matched both the soups and the veal rather well. This bottle had a faulty cork that already displayed some leaking. It could certainly stand a decade or more of cellaring, but now we're anxious about the closures.

An MLK Weekend Not to Be Forgotten

2006-01-17T13:48:00.000-06:00

Stephanie and I were pleased to welcome my great old friend Chuck and his wife Jayne to Chicago for a long weekend of eating, drinking, smoking, and general merriment. Chuck arrived late Friday night, and the festivities began immediately with a surprisingly delicious bottle of Marguet-Bonnerave Champagne Grand Cru NV. A rich and flavorful wine, the Bonnerave is an incredible bargain at $27 for grand cru champers (this means that the grapes come from vineyards that are specifically designated as producing high quality fruit every year). The bubbles, which were accompanied by our favorite toast, "Champagne for my real friends and real pain for my sham friends," were followed by the remainder of a bottle of Van Winkle Bourbon, a house favorite.

After a late start on Saturday, Stephanie, Chuck, and I made it out to Hot Doug's for some delicious frankfurters and duck fat fries. We picked Jayne up at two o'clock and enjoyed a long afternoon of wine shopping. For dinner we ordered deep dish pizza and polished off a bottle of Duval-Leroy NV bubbly, a corbieres, and a bourgogne rouge. After retiring to the basement lounge, Chuck presented me with an incredible birthday present - a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label Scotch Whisky and a humidor full of Cuban cigars! That night we stayed up late imbibing the phenomenal Blue Label - peaty and full bodied, with a lingering caramel finish - and smoking the cubans. I had a sweet and round Cohiba Esplendito, while Chuck and Jayne shared a rustic and earthy Romeo y Julieta No. 2 that actually dated from at 2002 trip Montreal that Chuck and I took.

Not surprisingly, Sunday began in the late morning. At Jayne's suggestion we had a delightful brunch at the Atwood Cafe in the Loop and then took Lake Shore Drive down to Hyde Park for a tour of the university. We then made it back to the north side of town, and after a very stressful trip to Whole Foods, returned home to begin a home cooked feast. Dinner started with prawns sauteed in butter in my new cast iron skillet. They were served in a fresh pea soup with creme fraiche. Next, Stephanie prepared Rick Tramonto's amusing and scrumptious "linguine" and clams, where the linguine are actually julienned and blanched cucumbers served in the clam shell. These courses were enjoyed with the always fantastic Domaine de Baumard Savennieres 2002 (reviewed on this blog earlier). The main course was pan-roasted woodear mushroom crusted pork tenderloin, served on a ring of mashed potatoes with roasted shitake mushrooms and a red wine sauce. For this course, Chuck ("Big playa may big play in big game") had graciously purchased a bottle of the much-anticipated Chateau Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape 2001. This is certainly the most famous and widely appreciated wine from the region, and the '01 vintage proved why. A blend of Grenache, Syrah, Mouvedre, and a few other grapes, it showed great density and weight but absolutely pure flavors and a tremendous structure. It's often a bummer sharing wines like this with three other people, but I couldn't complain considering the depth of the conversation and incomparable balance of the company's wit and intelligence - not to mention their delightful aroma. That evening we again retired to the basement lounge for more Blue Label and habanas. This time I smoked a R&J Churchill, Chuck a Cohiba, and Jayne a Montecristo.

On Monday, Stephanie and I had to say goodbye to our weekend guests, but not, of course, before a fabulous lunch. Jayne and Chuck had been eyeing the Nine Steakhouse in Las Vegas and recommended that we visit the Chicago location. We ate splendidly although without vino, as we were all trying to rehydrate. Their visit was a wonderful success and a source of great personal joy (and decadence). We hope to soon join them in Vegas to try to outdo ourselves.

Pouilly-Fume Tasting

2006-01-13T08:11:00.000-06:00

Stephanie had purchased a bag of split peas recently, and I decided to make them into soup last night with some smoked ham hocks and sausage. On Charlie's recommendation, I sought out wines known for their smokiness - the sauvignon blancs of Pouilly-Fumé in France's Loire Valley. As with the previous night's Cotes-du-Rhone, these wines were made in contrasting styles and, thus, provided an interesting tasting experience.

The Pascal Jolivet Pouilly-Fumé 2001 was consumed from a half bottle. It showed the characteristic P-F smokiness and flintiness on the aroma. Stephanie detected a hint of oak. Perhaps due to its age and format, the wine was relatively restrained and subtle. There were baked apple flavors and some nice acidity, but nothing flashy or racy. For me, the subtlety made for an enjoyable pairing with the smoky and somewhat muted soup.

Rather different was the Domaine Serge Dagueneau Pouilly-Fumé Les Pentes 2004. A bright and racy wine, the Dagueneau seemed closer to a New Zealand sauvi blanc than to the Jolivet. Of course, the wine is barely a year old so the ripe fruits and zippy acidity were to be expected. Serge and his daughters who now run the estate are cousins of the more famous Didier Dagueneau, whose P-Fs regularly appear in the Wine Spectator Top 100 and cost as much as $90. Serge's wine was more modest but still quite enjoyable. Although the Jolivet seemed a perfect compliment to the soup but perhaps little else, the Dagueneau worked nicely with the soup but would pair well with a wider variety of dishes, especially white and shell fish.

Domaine les Aphillantes Tasting

2006-01-12T09:46:00.000-06:00

Last night I prepared campanelle pasta with smoked sausage, shrimps, and peas. It is an Italian version of low-country boil or frogmore stew. Earlier in the week I had picked up a couple of the many bottlings of Cotes-du-Rhone Villages by Domaine Les Aphillantes from the excellent 2001 vintage. The producer, Daniel Boulle, had until recently, sold his crop to the local winemaking co-op, but he now bottles the wines under his own label. Both of these wines are made from the traditional Southern Rhone varietals, Grenache, Syrah, and Mourvedre, but they are blended differently to produce markedly distinct styles of wine.

The Cuvée des Galets is made with 60% Grenache and 20% each of Syrah and Mourvedre. It was certainly the rounder, more extracted wine of the pair. Very ripe, and as Stephanie noted, almost syrupy, the wine gave off aromas of pine nuts, bananas, and cherries. Stephanie found the wine rather tannic, but I thought the tannins were reasonably well moderated by the fruit.

The Cuvée 3 Cépages is a blend of equal parts Grenache, Syrah, and Mourvedre, and perhaps for this reason, it struck me as better balanced. Although the varietal of most Chateauneuf-du-Papes is more like the Galets, the 3 Cepages bottling clearly seemed to mimic this wines of the more renowned appelation. Stephanie noted candied dark fruits and dried cranberries. I concurred, adding tobacco, cumin, and that characteristic citrus flavor that one finds in some Chateauneufs like Vieux Telegraphe. The finish on the 3 Cepages was longer, slightly drier, and more acidic than the Galets, making it, to my mind, more compelling and food-friendly.

Chateau Souverain Zinfandel Dry Creek Valley 1999

2006-01-10T09:02:00.000-06:00

I discovered this wine languishing at a corner liquor store and thought I might give it a try. It dates from the days when Souverain used the lovely green bevelled bottles, and it was in fine form for a six year old zin. It shows that when zinfandels are not too highly extracted (the bottle says it only has 14.5% alc./vol.), they are capable of substantial aging. Although was holding on to enjoyable berry and currant flavors, it had picked up some lovely depth from the bottle age, showing earthy and spicy notes. Unusually for us, we drank this wine without food, but it would pair perfectly with roasted duck or grilled quail. F.F. Coppola has recently purchased the Souverain winery facilities, so it will be interesting to see what happens to their wines when made at the new digs.

Cod in Spicy Fennel and Orange Tomato Sauce

2006-01-10T08:54:00.000-06:00

Last night I adapted a cod recipe from Patricia Well's excellent and easy-to-use Provence Cookbook (recipe follows). Fresh cod is gently poached in a tomato sauce accented by fennel seeds, chili flakes, and a bunch of orange zest. It was really delicious with a baguette and a green salad.

After discussing a wine pairing with Charlie, we agreed that I should ignore Well's advice to choose a red Cotes du Rhone and instead select a nice rosé. I chose the 2004 Domaine des Aphillantes Cotes du Rhone Rosé. It was highly extracted and very dark, and the aroma seemed to blend candy, cranberries, and ozone. The wine was a nice match for the food. Hints of sweetness from the ripe grapes paired well with the spicy sauce. It was not your Daddy's tavel, however.

Recipe:

EVOO
Chili flakes to taste
4 cloves garlic, sliced
1 medium onion, sliced lengthwise
1 tsp. anchovie paste
1 tsp. tomato paste
2 tbsp. sweet vermouth
28 oz can of whole tomatoes passed through a food mill
1/2 tsp. fennel
Zest of 1 orange
Bouquet garni
Fresh cod fillets
2 tbsp green olives, chopped
Parsley for garnish

In a sauce pan, heat chili flakes and garlic in olive oil. Add onions and sauté over low heat until soft but not brown, about 8 minutes. Add pastes and cook until dissolved. Deglaze with sweet vermouth and reduce to a glaze. Add tomatoes, fennel, zest, and bouquet garni and simmer for a while (half an hour would do, but longer is better). Add cod fillets to barely simmering sauce and poach gently for 5-6 minutes depending on thickness. Remove to plates and garnish with sauce, olives, and parsley.

Birthday Dinner at TRU

2006-01-09T11:20:00.000-06:00

For my birthday on Saturday, my loving fiancé Stephanie made reservations for us at Chicago's most popular restaurant TRU. She and I have been enjoying Chef Tramonto's amuse bouche cookbook for a few months, so it was with great anticipation that we arrived for our reservation. Despite a couple of stumbles, we were not disappointed.

First the stumbles. Although the restaurant received a 27 Zagat score for its decor, I was thoroughly underwhelmed. The white curtains covering floor to ceiling windows and the stick lamps that could have doubled for emergency exit lighting did not create a particularly inviting scene. The bathrooms, however, were lovely.

Stephanie and I each chose to dine from Chef Tramonto's special degustacion menu, giving us each eight different courses. We began with tasty acorn squash panna cotta served on spoons and then moved on to the famous four-taste amuse. It included borscht soup on a spoon, squash terrine, carmelized shallots over cumin gelee, and cucumber juice shooter. My first course was the famous caviar staircase, the restaurant's signature dish. I was informed by the waiter that they were still serving caviar harvested in 2005 and thus not affected by the recent export bans by the US and EU. Stephanie opted out of the caviar course and was instead served four bento boxes of salads and terrines, each more enjoyable than the last. Next I had seared yellowfin tuna with tapenade and Stephanie enjoyed peeky toe crab over beets (the second time in two courses that she was served beets). With these courses we enjoyed Domaine des Baumard's Trie Speciale Savennieres 2003. We are big fans of Baumard (whom you have seen reviewed on this blog before), and the Trie Speciale was as good as I've had from them in a dry chenin blanc.

My next course was the highlight of the evening, and it is the best reason to introduce the exceptional service we received from sommelier Scott Tyree. I was anticipating my foie gras course and was considering a glass of Sauternes to accompany it. Mr. Tyree politely suggested that while the Sauternes would be a classic pairing, given the preparation he would recommend another wine. The gras was served barely sauteed with cabbage confit, raspberries, and blueberries. Mr. Tyree brought a glass of botrityzed rosé from Kracher in Austria. The berry flavors from the red Zweigelt grape perfectly matched the berries in the dish. I was stunned. Stephanie declined the foie gras course and was served ricotta gnocchi with about a pound of shaved black truffles. (Don't tell them, but she saved one and served it to me with scrambled eggs the next morning.)

We then moved on to soups served capuccino style in demitasse cups. Stephanie had pumpkin and I had cauliflower. These were followed by rather disappointing fish courses. My salmon with salsify lacked interest although it was paired with a perfect pinot noir from Rivers-Marie in Sonoma. Stephanie received delicious butter-poached lobster, but it came with the very same gnocchi she tasted two courses earlier. This upset us, but the chardonnay from Faila that Mr. Tyree selected to accompany the dish more than made up for it. It's subtle and restrained nose (I can only speak of the bouquet because Stephanie wouldn't share a taste with me) was an ideal match for the lobster. Stephanie remarked that it was the first time when she tasted a wine that worked as an ingredient in the final dish. I guess I have to try harder.

Our meat courses were superb. Stephanie enjoyed prime ribeye with mushrooms and I had venison loin with chesnut puree. She was recommended the romantic Chateau LaLagune Haut Medoc 2000, and I was introduced to a new wine - the Trinoro Le Cupole 2003 from Tuscany. I was told that it was primarily Cab Franc blended with indigenous varietals modeled on the great Cheval Blanc of Bordeaux. What a wine! The typicaly tobacco notes from the cab franc were present, but they smelled more like a Havanna than any I've ever experienced. Thank you Scott.

By this time, we were quite full and perhaps did not pay enough attention to Chef Gale Gand's desserts. We had creme brulee and semifreddo along with cheeses, truffles, chocolates, and lollipops. I finished the meal with the Cuvee Ste. Catherine Coteau du Layon from Baumard, and Stephanie drank half of an enormous glass of Banfi grappa. We left, perfectly sated, after four hours.

It was a wonderful birthday celebration thanks to the kitchen staff at TRU, sommelier Scott Tyree, and mostly to my beautiful fiancé.

Chateau Meyney Mini-Vertical

2005-10-26T12:04:00.000-05:00

Although I have not fully recovered from the head cold that has afflicted me this week, I thought it would be a good idea to begin to get back in shape for our exciting weekend of gastronomic joy with our friends. To that end, I braised a beef pot roast for four hours and served it with new potatoes. Stephanie produced another enjoyable green salad for a side.

We had consumed all of the wine we purchased last week, so I dropped by one of the local wine shops on my way to pick up Stephanie from work. They had a variety of solid Bordeaux wines from the mid-nineties at nice prices (especially considering what many of those wineries' new releases go for these days). I chose a bottle of Chateau Meyney St. Estephe 1995 and a half bottle of the same winery's 1996. These two vintages are both highly regarded among Bordeaux drinkers and highly debated. While to most tasters they don't have the style or concentration of 1990 or 2000, they are generally well liked. Often tasters do not agree on which vintage produced the better wines.

Chateau Meyney is a "cru bourgeois" estate on the left bank of the Gironde River. The "cru bourgeois" appelation means that in 1855, its wines were not highly enough regarded to merit classification among the best wines of the region. Nonetheless, it regularly produces wines of excellent quality and value. Like its neighbors in the Medoc, it is made from mostly Cabernet Sauvignon, with smaller amounts of Merlot and Cabernet Franc.

The 1995 was very nice. It was still dark plum colored, with a medium-full body and lots of nice fruits remaining on the nose. While some signs of maturity were setting in, they made for a pleasantly balanced wine ready for current consumption. It was a delicious, classic Bordeaux for a great value (~$26).

The 1996 was not holding up as well. Because half bottles allow in the same amount of oxygen as whole bottles but distribute it over only half as much wine, they tend to mature much more rapidly. This seemed to be the case for our bottle. Its color was tinged with more rust than was the 95, but it still appeared to be healthy. The aroma and flavor, however, indicated otherwise. The wine smelled and tasted of truffles, earth, and malted barley syrup. Stephanie described it as molasses. While I wouldn't normally find these characteristics objectionable, they completely masked whatever fruit the wine may still have had to offer. Although the 96 Meyney might still be delicious in whole bottles (or better yet, magnums), this half bottle was not doing well.

Stephanie's Sunday Dinner

2005-10-25T16:46:00.000-05:00

I was feeling a little under the weather on Sunday, so Stephanie offered to prepare another multi-course feast to cheer me up. Again, I was barred from entering the kitchen after about four o'clock. I spent the afternoon watching football and trying not to notice the enormous amount of noise coming from the kitchen. For all her beauty and talent, Stephanie can be a bit clumsy.

When the first course arrived, I completely forgot the sound of clanging pots. She presented shrimps steamed in parchment with parsley-garlic-smoked paprika sauce and a roasted orange pepper sauce. The sauces married perfectly, and the shrimp were tender and delicious (not to mention artistically plated).

Stephanie's main course offering was seared lamb loin chops with a wine and cream pan gravy served with a puree of potatoes and white beans. The lamb was perfectly cooked and delicious in its own right, but when paired with the rich sauce, it was truly outstanding. This was Stephanie's first attempt at a pan sauce, and it was a resounding success.

Dessert, a course that we don't often take, was a delightful chocolate-raspberry-oreo "truffle." Stephanie prepared oreo crusts, upon which were placed raspberries and a covering of chocolate ganache. They were simply scrumptious (and they have continued to be for the past couple of days).

Due to my cold, I took it easy on the wine, although we did pour a nice value Cab Franc from the Touraine region of the Loire Valley. While my illness prevented me from appreciating half of the taste of the food, Stephanie's fine cooking made that half really wonderful. I only wish I had been healthy enough to taste the other half.

Dom. Jean-Marc Bouley Volnay 1er Cru Clos des Chenes 1996

2005-10-09T16:43:00.000-05:00

I must begin this post by apologizing for the lack of blogging on my part recently. It's of course not due to any decreased wine consumption, but rather increased post-meal laziness.

This Bouley is a nice one to get back on track with. Stephanie and I found this nine year old wine from one of Burgundy's southern regions for only $10 at the House of Glunz. I guess they were trying to unload some old stock. Normally, this wine would have sold for $20-30. Ninety-six was a great vintage for red Burgundy, so I expected that even a wine from a lesser vineyard would still be holding up pretty well. I was mostly right.

As red wines will tend to do, this one had lightened significantly in its color, turning a pleasant rust color along the edges. Older wines also lose much of their fruit flavors and aromas, as these are morphed into mature notes of earth and leather. Such was the case for this pinot. What must have been bright bing cherry flavors had now become dried fruit and damp earth. Only a medium-bodied wine to begin with, this one as mellowed considerably, with little remaining tannins and reasonable acidity.

I was a bit surprised by how mature this wine seemed. Other 96s have not tasted so old, but I don't think it's anything to worry about. Probably just the producer's style. Nonetheless, it proved an enjoyable match with Stephanie's finger sandwiches, made to mimic the ones we'd had at High Tea that afternoon at the Peninsula Hotel. I'd also recommend it with coq au vin or braised pork.

Domaine Moureou Madiran 2000

2005-09-20T19:45:00.000-05:00

Sorry for the significant blogging hiatus lately. No real excuses; just postprandial laziness. Tonight, I grilled lamb rib chops and asparagus and served them with new potatoes. It's nice when I can prepare everything on the grill; it means I don't have to scrub any pots. Todd at Sam's recommended this Madiran to match the lamb, and it performed admirably enough.

Regular readers of the blog (I'm looking at you, Charlie) will notice that we have been drinking a lot of wines from Madiran and its neighbors in southwest France. These wines tend to be an incredible source for good value wines made in the traditional, old world style. Madiran wines are primarily made of Tannat grapes, which sound like what they taste like, i.e., tannic. This one was no exception.

Unlike a similar wine from neighboring Irouleguy, also made of tannat, the Moureou was pleasantly drinkable when complimented by the fat from the lamb. It was a full-bodied and well-extracted wine, with enjoyable fruit and nut flavors.

Stephanie says: Almonds and woodiness on the aroma. The tannins made reaching the flavor difficult, but I thought I detected black cherry and blackberries, and more woddiness.

The tannins were certainly present, but they were the kind of tannins that could be moderated either by age or rich foods. We tried the latter, and given the wine's price (~$14), we might toss a few in the cellar.

Chateau Caronne Ste. Gemme Haut-Medoc 2000

2005-09-10T09:42:00.000-05:00

"Man Alive!," as Fukui-san used to say. Stephanie and I celebrated our -1st Anniversary (we hope to be married a year from now), and I created a tasting of beef short ribs. I purchased short ribs from both the Paulina Meat Market, a fancy butcher shop that carries lots of wonderful meats, and from the local produce market, Farmer's Pride Produce, on the corner of Chicago Ave. and Western Ave. The former cost $8.50/lb. and the latter $2.20/lb. They were cooked identically - simmered for two hours in a braise of onion, leek, carrot, garlic, red wine and chicken stock - but they were butchered differently.

Stephanie and I both agreed that while the farmer's market beef was fattier, it was much tastier and more tender. So much for the extra $6/lb. To compliment the short ribs, we roasted some asparagus and Stephanie prepared her new favorite side dish, fingerling potatoes steamed over thyme then smashed and fried like platains (from Lora Zarubin's cookbook, I'm Almost Always Hungry..

Stephanie chose this bottle of Bordeaux last week, and I thought it would go very well with the short ribs. I was correct. For a "cru bourgeois" level wine (this means that the property is not considered to be as good as those labeled "grand cru" and thus costs much less, ~$18), this one was remarkably well-balanced and structured. A blend of 60% Cab Sauv, 37% Merlot, and 3% Petit Verdot produced a medium-full bodied wine that balanced the sweetness of the ripe 2000 vintage against modest tannins and acidity. The nose offered the slightest hints of herb, prune, and fig. Although the finish was not especially long, as one might expect from such a wine, it was well-built and perfect for beef. Not a long-lived wine, this is a gem to buy by the case.

Chateau Fort de Roquetaillade Graves 2004

2005-09-08T19:21:00.000-05:00

Tonight I prepared my first dish from Paula Wolfert's amazing cookbook, the Cooking of South-West France. First published in 1983, Paula's book will likely become one of my favorites, with its recipes for boudin noir, daube of oxtail, and cassoulet. As an initial attempt, I tried her Basque-inspired recipe for pork braised in milk. A boneless center loin of pork is slowly cooked in milk, seasoned with leeks, onions, and carrots. It is served thinly sliced with the reduced cooking liquid. As I side dish, I prepared Thomas Keller's fancy version of a ratatouille, with squash, zucchinie, and tomatoes over onions and bell peppers. While the pork was a touch on the dry side, it was perked up immensely by the sauce and nicely balanced by the rich vegetables.

Paula recommended a white Graves to match the dish, and we just happened to have one chilling in the cellar (actually I chose the dish knowing that we had a bottle of Graves). Graves is a small region in southeast Bordeaux that gets its name from its gravely soil. While the red wines of this region are some of the biggest names in Bordeaux, many of the whites are overlooked. The whites are made from Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon, and they tend to be drier and more minerally than their cousins from the Loire, California, or New Zealand.

Tonight's Roquetaillade was a characteristic example, offering notes of citrus and white peach, backed by an acidic, minerally core. As Stephanie mentioned, the fruit was in perfect balance with the acidity, making for a delightful sipping wine and one that worked especially well with our dinner. Like many of the great white wines of France (from Burgundy, Alsace, or the Loire), those from Bordeaux are capable of aging nicely. And for less than $15, this is one that could be stashed away pretty easily.

Domaine Ricard Le Vilain P'tit Rouge Touraine 2002

2005-09-05T20:04:00.000-05:00

Stephanie and I spent a lovely late summer afternoon enjoying the nice weather outside while our chicken stock simmered away on the stove. I used some of the stock to produce a lamb stew with fingerlings, carrots, and turnips. Stephanie prepared a mixed green salad with scallions, heirloom tomatoes, and parmigiano. We chose this Cabernet Franc from the Loire to pair with the lamb.

I was a bit surprised by the heft a cool-climate Cab Franc showed, and I suspect that there might have been a bit of viticultultural tomfoolery going on (i.e., winemaking methods may have been applied to enhance the wine's extract and potential alcohol beyond its natural development). It was meaty and tight, with a medium-full body. To my palate, it seemed more like a California wine than one from the Loire.

This much ripeness and strength would have been more appropriate with grilled beef than it was with stewed lamb. It overwhelmed some of the lamb's subtlety, but I would expect better results with a nice tri-tip.

Chateau d'Aydie Ode d'Aydie Madiran 2001

2005-09-04T20:00:00.000-05:00

One of our local wine shops had a big Labor Day sale on French wines, so we picked up a variety of bottles that we wouldn't normally select. Last night, for example, we drank a white wine from Gascony that proved too sweet for a delicious tuna "nicoise" prepared by Stephanie. Tonight we tried this Madiran with smoked ribs, Stephanie's famous cole slaw, and ciabatta with goat butter, hoping that the smoky Tannat grape would pair well with the ribs.

Madiran, located in southwest France, has been gaining more public attention as the region's wine makers strive to tame the tannic Tannat, often by blending it with Cab Franc. The folks at d'Aydie were sadly unsuccessful in 2001, though. The wine's tannins were softened by the fat in the meat, and there was some characteristic smokiness. But in the end, the grip from the tannins proved too strong, to the point where they completely masked the fruit. If you're so inspired, feel free to lay a few bottles down for a while and see what happens. For only $12 or so, you don't have much to lose. But if it's enjoyable Madiran you're after, try the wines of Chateau Laffitte-Teston.

Lunch at Blackbird

2005-09-01T15:20:00.000-05:00

I spent the better part of last night on the phone with our financial adviser guy discussing all of the possible bad things that could happen to us. To repay me, Stephanie invited me to join her for lunch at one of Chicago's finest restaurants - Blackbird. This was particularly special no only because Blackbird was the 2004 James Beard Award Winner for the best restaurant in the Midwest, but also because Stephanie took an hour-and-a-half lunch break (75 minutes longer than her normal lunches).

To say that the food was exquisite would not do it justice. I should start by mentioning all of the things I passed up on the menu: gazpacho with tuna, confit of sucking pig, skate wing and jonah crab, croques madame and monsieur, bouillabaisse, and lamb t-bones. You get the point - deciding what to eat was incredibly difficult. Stephanie, devoted fiance that she is, made my task easier by ordering two items that I would have ordered instead of the ones I ultimately chose - "seared maine diver scallops with new crop fingerlings, scallions, guanciale and uni vinaigrette" with two enormous slices of truffle that were not listed on the menu and the "braised prairie gove pork belly sandwich with spicy coleslaw, bread and butter pickles, dijon, and arugula salad." Both were phenomenal. The former was perfectly prepared, with layers of delicate, contrasting flavors and a powerful aroma of truffle (it reminded me of the time that Charlie and I deep fried scallops in truffle oil). The pork belly sandwich was also superb. The meat was unimaginably tender, the slaw was great, and the bread was perfect. There were, perhaps, too many pickles on the sandwich, and the salad left something to be desired (although it was no doubt intended as a palate cleanser between bites of the very rich pork).

By now, you must certainly be asking yourself what I chose. No more delays. I selected two appetizers. First, the "charcuterie plate with country-style pate, boudin blanc, pickled spring salad, and walnut mustard." What a choice! The pate was just lovely - an fine blend of meat, fat, and savory herbs - and the sausage was great, perhaps the best I've ever had. The salad included pickled leeks and haricot verts. I followed this with "sous vide greengold acres farm chicken breast and sauteed sweetbreads with braised baby leeks and gribiche." These were, without question, the best sweetbreads I've ever tasted - a perfect blend of crisp coating and rich inside. I have been waiting to try some "sous vide" something after reading about it in all of the magazines (it requires vacuum-sealing foods in plastic for slow poaching at low temperatures), and the chicken certainly lived up to my expectations. Although the two small slivers didn't provide much opportunity to think about the flavors, they were amazingly tender.

Lunch prices are decidedly reasonable at Blackbird, although dinner gets a little more expensive. The wine list is impressivly stocked with cult cabs and big name burgundies (and they even had 5 chenins), but the wine prices are high - more than 100% over retail. The by-the-glass list could also have been more substantial and offered more playful wines to match the clever food preparations. Our service, by a young lady named Meredith and her crew was exceptional. They were all friendly and helpful, and Meredith made all the right recommendations. We shall return soon.

Ridge Zinfandel Paso Robles 2003

2005-08-29T20:05:00.000-05:00

While I was in New York, Stephanie drank our bottle of Ridge Geyserville, arguably California's best zinfandel (technically zin blend). She felt guilty and replaced it with Paul Draper's Paso Robles offering. She had to work late tonight, so I mourned her absence by cooking duck breast in a cranberry and woodear mushroom sauce with chive polenta and sauteed zucchini. This was an enormous magret duck breast I purchased from Whole Foods at $17 per pound, and like a previous sample it proved to be rather tough despite impeccable preparation. It will most likely be my last duck purchase from Whole Foods.

The zin was a fine pairing despite showing less character than its cousin from Geyserville. At a mere 14.8% alcohol, it was much more drinkable and food-friendly than other Cali zins (see my previous posting on Turley Old Vines 03). The wine's back label notes that in the warm Central Coast region, the grapes reached optimal ripeness before the tannins and acidity had sufficiently developed. Despite a variety of viticultural techniques designed to increase tannin and acidity, it seemed a tad short on the finish. Duck was perhaps the best choice for this wine, but it could also work with grilled ribeye or a heavily spiced quail.

Frecciarossa Sillery Oltrepo Pavese 2004: a white Pinot Noir from Italy

2005-08-29T09:07:00.000-05:00

During my absence, Stephanie procured a number of interesting wines for up to taste this week (although she did dispatch a much anticipated Ridge Geyserville), including this white Pinot Nero (Noir) from Italy. As many readers may know, pinot noir is a major component of french Champangne, where the skins are removed after harvesting to produce a white wine. In fact, the French even make white Champagne entirely of Pinot Noir grapes, which they call Blanc de Noir (i.e., white from red). Stephanie was intrigued by this Italian wine, as I certainly would have been, and brought home a bottle.

To accompany the wine (many people have wine to accompany their meals, whereas here at Chez Harris-Buccafusco we have meals to accompany our wine) we sauteed red snapper fillets and served them with a basil, caper, tomato sauce and mashed potatos and green salad with heirloom tomatos on the side. The fish and wine were a lovely match. As Stephanie predicted, the wine tasted a bit like flat Champagne, but this did not detract from the experience. It had a nose reminiscent of the heftier bubblies, with hints of dough and yeast, and a crisp, slightly acidic finish. Although perhaps not as long and complex as a Champange might be, this was an excellent dry white wine suitable for any pairing where Champagne would be expected. It could also serve as a substitute for those who claim that the fizz in champagne gives them a headache, although this should not be understood to legitimate such sentiments. Who cares if it gives you a headache, it's Champagne!

My Big Apple Adventure

2005-08-29T08:30:00.000-05:00

I apologize for lack of recent blogging, but I have just returned from a wonderful trip to Manhattan. On Thursday, I met up with my brother Marty, a producer/editor (a.k.a. "prediter") at MTV, and we enjoyed an enormous lunch of cheeseburgers at McHale's. I left him to return to work, and I strolled around midtown for the afternoon, stopping briefly for some snails and a glass of provencal rose at Brasserie Marseilles. That evening we went out for ribs at Bluesmoke with his girlfriend Lindsay and roommate James.

Marty left early Friday morning to shoot the Video Music Awards in hurricane-threatened Miami, and I began the morning with a trip to Davidoff to meet up with my great friend Kellette. He is responsible for having introduced me to wine after my brewery in Atlanta closed in 2000. We had a nice diner breakfast before I set out for the International Center for Photography to see the daguerreotypes of Southworth and Hawes (this was the nominal purpose of my visit). Afterwards, I again joined Kellette, this time with his lovely wife Islandria, for a tour around the warehouse district and a stop at his local wine shop. We then headed downtown to a Spanish joint named Bar Jamon, which perfectly lived up to its name. We enjoyed marinated sardines and squid, a tasting of three ages of manchego, olives, and serrano ham with glasses of wine (I had sherry). By way of digestion, we took a stroll through the neighborhood and smoked cigars, along the way bumping into Tony Bourdain, who carried a dog in a purse and who proved to be much nicer than his gruff TV image would suggest.

Kellette, Islandria, and I eventually made it back to their place after a brief stop to pick up some cold cuts and cheese for dinner (it was now close to 10pm). They produced a wonderful spread of traditional and spicy salami, aged provolone, proscuitto, basil, and tomatoes and we did a small tasting of three lesser known french red wines, a Saumur, a Corbieres, and a Cahors, the former winning top honors for its delicate texture but complex midpalate. The night ended around 2am with Ashton Super Selections, Kellete having been awake for 27 straight hours by this point.

I awoke in the late morning on Saturday and headed south from Marty's apartment on 50th Street down to the aforementioned Mr. Bourdain's Brasserie Les Halles for what I imagined would be brunch. Upon seeing the menu, however, I was unable to pass up the more savory dishes and choose some very tender pork rillettes, delicious pigs' feet, and a sorbet trio. I skipped wine in favor of the lovely french pressed coffee.

After lunch I wandered down to the market in Union Sqare and tasted some artisanal cheeses from New York and some splendid apple cider. Continuing south, I stopped in Washington Sqare Park to do some reading and watch some incredible bocce. Later that afternoon I met up with Lindsay, who was gracious enough to entertain me in my brother's absence. We had a brief tour through the east village (where I shopped in vain for the perfect gift for Stephanie) and then took a cab to her fabulous apartment on 1st Avenue at 62nd Street. Lindsay recommended a thai restaurant in the area, where we had panang chicken and I introduced her to the pleasures of Gewurtztraminer.

Lindsay left to hang out with some friends, but Kellette, phenomenal friend that he is, managed to get off work just as I was wrapping up with Lindsay. He met me at Merchant's, one of the few remaining New York bars where smoking is still permitted. He is well-loved by the staff there, and we were treated wonderfully. I smoked a limited edition Fonseca with some uncharacteristically uninspiring Lagavulin 16, and Kellette smoked La Flor Dominicana with equally disappointing Macallan 12. After our usual long and meaningful conversation we said goodbye some time after 2.

I enjoyed my trip immensely and am very grateful for the wonderful friendship and entertainment provided by all of my New York friends. It was a superb wine, ham, and cigar filled weekend that I will not soon forget.

Qupe Syrah Central Coast 2003

2005-08-21T19:49:00.000-05:00

Preparation for tonight's dinner began rather early, as I began to smoke a pork loin around 4 o'clock. While waiting for it to finish, we had an appetizer of truffle pate and olives. I also prepared green lentils with roast corn and red onion.

We chose the Qupe syrah to match the smokiness of the pork and were well pleased. Although the airing of Blossom: E! True Hollywood Story added little to the event, dinner turned out quite well. The Qupe was medium-full bodied, with considerable smoke and oak on the bouquet. I detected hints of chocolate, coffee, and berries, but Stephanie refused to discuss the wine because I made obnoxious comments about Blossom. I think she liked it, though. Try it with grilled quail or pasta with duck.