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Now that I know that I can make Pil-Pil, of course I want it all the time.

I'd call tonight's iteration a real Basque Pil-Pil, by which I mean it was emulsified to the point of being total (I believe this is the Basque-language word for it) gook.  It did have more hot pepper in it than a Basque would hold warranted -- but I can assure you that no Basques were harmed in the consumption of this dinner, so we don't have to worry about that.

Some Ayocote Blanca beans on the side, cuz I had them.  And some collard greens, which I'm convinced would be a sensation in Spain if they were introduced there.  And, of course, crusty Olmsted baguette for dunking.

No thought whatsoever went into the wine pairing.

2019 Ameztoi Getariako Txakolina

Poured (with varying degrees of success) from way up high.  This has to be one of the most lip-smacking whites anywhere.  And it's one of the few wines that are as good by themselves being finished after dinner as they are with food.

Mainly, you taste the ocean.  But also apples dipped in chalk (better than perhaps it sounds) and some lime.  Great in August, but pretty damn fine in November.  At least with Pil-Pil.

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I read all these threads about these fabulous dinners people have at home, with photogenic, obviously labor-intensive food, and legendary bottles.   I can't speak for anybody else on this board, bu

If I'm not enjoying wine when I'm seventy, then my nieces and nephews are going to be stuck with a shitload of wine they won't know what to do with.   Or my next wife, who by then should be almost

Whaddya mean? That's more than half the meals I serve. Tossed with great care, I might add.

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Venison/pork/cherry sausage.  (I will continue to wish D'Artagnan's sausages were better while I finish my stash.)   On a bed of mashed rutabaga with a little carrot.  Topped with a shallot/Balsamic pan gravy.  Roasted brussels sprouts on the side.

Autumn on a plate.

As the sausages were defrosting, I could hear them calling out from the refrigerator, "Bordeaux Cru Bourgeois!  Bordeaux Cru Bourgeois!"  When sausages talk, you'd better listen

2009 Château Peyrabon

There isn't much to say about this, other than that it tastes like what it is:  a decent Haut-Médoc Cru Bourgeois from a very very good vintage.  It has the refulgent fruit of the 2009s (I'm tasting red currant).  There are traces of leather and even eucalyptus -- but this wine has almost no depth at all.  With sausage on a Thursday, it was fine.

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Pan-seared duck breast in a mushroom/shallot/red wine/tarragon pan sauce.  Over rice.  Steamed broccolini on the side.

Since part of the point of this meal was to give my new rice cooker a trial run, it's a little ironic that I reduced the sauce to the point where there wasn't a whole hell of a lot of it to sop up.  Tasted good, though.

In the glass and in the sauce:

2007 Ganevat Cuvée Julien

This Côtes du Jura Pinot Noir is in a good place.  Whatever disjunct you expect in these Northern French mountain wines between the fruit and the tons of acid has gone; this is now a harmonious drink.  But it's not a Burgundy:  it's got that mountain tension.  And after you taste the cherry/berry fruit up front, you don't taste the floor of the forest; rather, you get a sharp thrust of stone (unusual in a red wine).

But, to repeat myself, what's most impressive about this wine, at this point, is its coherence:  you don't usually taste natural mountain wines that hang together like this.

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OK OK, I know that Greenland Turbot isn't really Turbot.  But it's closer to it than most of what I can get around here wild caught.  Aux Beurre Blanc.  With rice (leftover from last night).  And roasted brussels sprouts.

Once you realize that this fish preparation comes from the Loire, your wine choice becomes obvious.  Since I'd normally go for a Chardonnay with a butter-cream sauce, I went for one of my more round, Chardonnay-like Loire Sauvignon Blancs.

2016 Domaine Ricard Tasciaca

This is from Chenoceaux in Touraine, from a house favorite producer.

I'll say what I say every time I drink this wine.  With the wrong food, it seems too big, too round:  almost (but happily not quite) flabby.  With the right food, it's just fine.  Sometimes it even sings.

This was the right food.

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Morcela com batata.  You can see the problem I'll have with my Portuguese citizenship test (which I'll have to take in actual Portuguese, in which I'll have to demonstrate fluency).  If you know any Spanish, everything just looks wrong.

On the side, some raw Savoy cabbage that I've had steeping in oil and vinegar and herbs and some sugar for something like a week.  After having seemed too unintegrated and acidic, this finally has entered the realm of deliciousness (and now it's gone!).

I was afraid that my inbred Jewish Fear Of Pork had led me to overcook the blood sausage.  But it was fine:  crunchy like you want it.  I did undercook the potatoes:  try not to burn them, and that's what happens.  (Really, they were fine, too -- I had parboiled the hell out of them.) (And they once again proved that, with fried potatoes, "too much salt" and "too much paprika" are meaningless constructs.)

The wine was a no-brainer.

2015 Antonio Madeira Dão Tinto

I have no idea what grapes go into this.  But this is Portugal:  even if I did know, I'd have no idea what they really were.  (Quick:  what's Tinto Roriz?)

This is really good.  Like a perfect weeknight quaff.  Natural.  Delicious dark fruit, and then other stuff (much of it sour).  Not a long finish -- but this is a weeknight quaff.  Absolutely perfect with the blood sausage.

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Pappardelle with parmesan, egg (duck), butter, salt, pepper, and (this was kind of the point of it) WHITE TRUFFLE.

Sautéed broccoli rabe on the side.

Truffles are truffles, but Tuesday is Tuesday, and I didn't really feel like opening a Nebbiolo.  So I did what any Piemontese person would do and opened a Barbera.

But not just ANY Barbera.

2016 La Msòira e'l Rastel (Fabio Gea) Barbera d'Alba Superiore "Palma"

Fabio Gea is one of the leading lights of natural wine in the Piemonte.  His wines are, not to put too fine a point to it, scrumptious.

This Barbera is just lip-smackingly good.  Everything good about Barbera in the sharpest possible manner -- with some piquant sour muck at the end.  YUM.

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