The Rest of Us (cont.)

[voyager]

3 hours ago, bloviatrix said:

Belated happy birthday.

+1! 

[Steve R.]

Just to add that we always have a couple of bottles of Pecorino in our refrigerator alongside a Sancerre or two, in case we ever eat at home.  And some Ridge (usually 3 Valleys) & Mordecai Banshee (blend) reds in case its not chicken.

[Sneakeater]

15 minutes ago, Steve R. said:

in case we ever eat at home. 

Perish the thought!

[Sneakeater]

(You know, reds can be even better than whites with chicken, especially if it's roasted.)

[Wilfrid]

On 11/4/2023 at 10:49 PM, Sneakeater said:

Where were you in 2013?

Bushwick.

[Sneakeater]

Goatober is over.  But my Barbacoa wasn't.  (NOW it is.)

Usual condiments/garnishes.  Leftover Mexican rice (I am going to live forever.)  A fresh batch of calabacitas.

And this last time I got to drink the consommé. Just fucking YUM is all.

A predictable pairing.  But good.

2016 Domaine Jaume Vinsobres "Altitude 420"

Vinsobres is in the Northern tip of the Southern Rhône.  So this typical wine of the appellation is majority Grenache with a very substantial minority of Syrah, and that, as far I know, is it. That seemed like a good blend for a spicy goat dish:  the friendly low-alcohol Grenache for the spice and the meaty Syrah for the meat.

And so it was.

This is another modest wine that punches above its weight.  A lot of that is down to the relative obscurity of Vinsobres:  a wine of this quality from a better-known nearby appellation like Gigondas would fetch more out of name recognition.

But also, there are plenty of wines like this.  Because it's not that there's anything exceptional about this wine:  that doesn't appear to be what its producers were going for.  It's just that wines in this sub-$20 price bracket vary.  Some are very soundly made, and many aren't.  There's nothing to remember here -- but a lot to enjoy.

I think that much of this wine's success can be attributed to a factor referred to in this cuvée's name.  As all but the most weed-obsessed can tell, this wine comes from a very high-altitude vineyard.  And as anyone who's ever drunk a Priorat can tell you, high altitudes help keep the flab off Grenache, leaving its good qualities without all the slobbering.  You would never call this wine elegant.  But you wouldn't call it overdone, either.

Edited November 9, 2023 by Sneakeater

[Sneakeater]

Also, although I absolutely didn't intend it, this wine is quite nice with leftover Blackout Cake.

[Sneakeater]

Syrah is another grape, like Chenin Blanc and until recently Pecorino, that I don't drink enough of considering how much I enjoy it.

I guess I drink quite a bit of it as an unacknowledged component of pre-2007 Tuscan Sangiovese blends.

[Sneakeater]

You really taste the garrigue in this wine.

I find that characteristic flavor of the Souther Rhône rather uncanny.

These wines don't taste like those herbs and leaves cuz they're grown near each other.

But why do they? You'd think the herbs were thrown into the vat or something.

[Sneakeater]

You know, I can see this wine getting even better (more integrated, mainly).

I'ma hold my remaining bottles.

Edited November 9, 2023 by Sneakeater

[Mitchell101]

7 hours ago, Sneakeater said:

You know, I can see this wine getting even better (more integrated, mainly).

I'ma hold my remaining bottles.

Always the optimist!  I no longer buy green bananas. 😉

[Sneakeater]

There's nothing wrong with it now.

[Simon]

A sommelier tonight used the words "thin," "tart," "sour," "vegetal," and "herbacious" to accurately describe the selections in the worst wine pairing I've ever had.  Is this what the kids like these days?

[Sneakeater]

You bet!

[Sneakeater]

An incredibly unsightly but delicious steak sandwich.

Two oyster steaks.  This good cheddar that Cato Corner very occasionally produces.  An egg.  Some PA Dutch onion relish.  Chantarelles that had been sautéed in butter and steak drippings with the garlic that had been used to flavor a mustard vinaigrette (see below) (I am such a bonne femme).  Brown sauce.  On a sesame milk bun.

On the side, another batch of mustard greens with mustard vinaigrette.  And some roasted rutabaga (I called it by name, but it didn't respond to me).  And a dollop of Branston pickle (cooking all these tacoesque dishes lately has taught me the value of condiments).

Sometime mid-afternoon I convinced myself that a Cabernet Franc would be the nurts with that sandwich.

2016 Domaine Bernard Baudry Chinon

This is this great producer's entry-level cuvée, the one that eventaully came to be named "Le Domaine".  It's made with grapes from younger vines than the more senior cuvées; and they're not from a single vineyard.

Of course, a less prepossessing wine was just what I was looking for with this sandwich.

You could see from the substantial crust this threw that the tannins had softened.  But they were stil there, which this fatty cut appreciated.  Very dark fruit, and a lot of it -- but it's kind of quiet.  The herbs and pepper have really come out.  And they were great with this food.  (OTOH, this wine was not ideal with tonight's slice of Birthday cake.)

The question with a junior cuvée from a top-level producer always is, how long to age it.  Seven years was a reasonable guess.  This doesn't taste like it's on the cusp of fading -- but it's currently in a good place.

Current releases of this wine go for around $20.  I'll bet this was several dollars less.  A steal, really.

Edited November 10, 2023 by Sneakeater

[Sneakeater]

Oyster steak (or Spider steak as it's also called) is really great.  Shot through with fat, and thin so it cooks quickly (although that means you have to be watching it carefully:  30 seconds will do it.)

And it's fun how excited my butchers always get when somebody buys some.  Cuz the butchers know how good it is, but not many customers do.

Edited November 10, 2023 by Sneakeater

[Sneakeater]

This being this time of year, and me having a fairly huge amount of hot peppers around, I couldn't resist throwing one into the rutabaga.  I was curious how the chili would go with the nutmeg I had seasoned the rutabaga with.

I don't know if this is A Thing or not (like say chili and honey), but it's an interesting and quite appealing flavor combination.

Edited November 10, 2023 by Sneakeater

[Sneakeater]

The fruit in this wine is so GOOD at this point.

It still tastes fresh.  But SUBDUED.

[bloviatrix]

Oyster steak is incredibly flavorful. It's a good thing more people don't know about it.

[Sneakeater]

A totally inauthentic dinner, with a main dish from the Northern part of Italy and a contorno (as we say) from the far South.

But you know what?  You may not have noticed it, but Brooklyn is thousands of miles from Italy.

Leftover fettuccine with squash, guanciale, and sage butter.

On the side, fioretti roasted with Nonnata di Pesce.  Cuz I can't help it, I just love that.

Despite that, I had a feeling I'd undercooked past iterations.  Me being me, the fear is that I'd overcompensate and burn this batch to a crisp.  But no:  I got it approximately right.  I really am figuring out this cooking stuff.

You might think I'd get sick of this fioretti roasted with Nonnata di Pesce thing, making it over and other as I do.  But no.  And anyway, this time I changed it up:  I added some capers.  House of fucking culinary invention here, I tell you.

I chose the wine to go with the pasta.  But it had a surprise feature that helped it out with the spiced-up fioretti, too.

2021 Bera Vittorio e Figli Arcese

This is a Piemontese field blend consisting mainly of Arneis and Cortese, two white grapes of the Piemonte, along with some Favorita, a more obscure white grape of the Piemonte, and Sauvignon Blanc and Vermentino, two grapes decidedly not associated with the Piemonte.

Plump round Arneis in particular would be a good pairing for squash, sage, and cured pork.

But the Sauvignon Blanc and the Vermentino make themselves known, mainly by thinning out the texture.  But THAT'S not the Special Surprise.

The surprise is:  I had expected a little bit of Natural wine fizz in this.  But this, this is practically frizzante.  I looked it up, and the producer does in fact leave some sugar in this to promote carbonation in the bottle.

And it was that that paired it with the chili-spiced sprouting cauliflower.

So how was this wine?  It's weird.  It's good.  It's weird and good.

It's weird because there's some Arneis flavor in there -- but I've never had thin-textured Arneis before.

It's weird because the thing it tastes most like is Gewürtztraminer -- and I don't know how you get that flavor from this combination of grapes.

It's good.

I don't know that I'd rush out and buy cases of it.

But it's good.

And its odd combination of characteristics make it very broadly food friendly:  it even was surprisingly not bad with my last slice of Birthday cake (the bubbles!).

Edited November 11, 2023 by Sneakeater

[Sneakeater]

I had planned to make Cuban Mojo Shrimp tonight.  (I've never been to Cuba and have no idea what they call this dish there.)

But then at the Greenmarket this morning I saw the first Bay Scollops of the season.  So I pivoted.

Cuban Mojo Scallops (can I shoot for Zamburiñas?).

On a bed of raw mustard greens.  (Those greens loved the citrusy Mojo.)

Even if you can't call Bay Scallops Zamburiñas, the pairing made itself.

2022 Nanclares y Prieto Albariño "Pergola Dandelion"

Another one of those knee-jerk pairings that are knee-jerk for a reason.

I mean, you just sort of knee-jerk to Albariños as a pairing for scallops in general because, like, Galicia.

But this particular scallop dish, with its citrusy marinade/sauce, was particularly apt for this pairing.

This is, as I'm sure I've said before, this excellent producer's entry-level Albariño.  And while the more expensive cuvées are deeper (each in a different way), this one is definitely the most charming.  I'd have to call it the best value in Rías Baixas.

Sharp citrus entrance (mainly grapefruit), then dry minerals, and finally an acid kick so powerful it kind of goes to the groin.

It's interesting to me that you can have a wine that describes identically to Sancerre, but tastes different.  It shows how inadequate words are to convey taste sensations.  At least my words.

Edited November 12, 2023 by Sneakeater

[Sneakeater]

These Bay Scallops were just lovely.

And the purveyor/person who harvested them informed me that, for the first season in years, they're plentiful.

Lotsa Bay Scallopy joy coming up.

(Somehow, though, the prices haven't come back down now that supply is back up.)

Edited November 12, 2023 by Sneakeater

[Orik]

13 hours ago, Sneakeater said:

Cuban Mojo Scallops (can I shoot for Zamburiñas?).

 

You can - they're almost never really Zamburiñas anyway

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0956713520304576

 

Quote

Moreover, the analysis of the dishes that were commercially labeled with the vernacular name “zamburiñas” from 20 restaurants sampled across the region revealed that in all of them (100%), the species detected was the Peruvian scallop (Argopecten purpuratus), known in Spanish as “vieira del Pacífico”. 

 

[Sneakeater]

Cider-brined (not brined by me) pork chop, pan roasted and spiced-butter basted.  With a Pfifferlengen pan sauce.  (I now realize that if I had floured the mushrooms before sautéing them in the spiced butter I had basted the chop with, the sauce would have really come together.)

Some buttered cabbage, carrot, and onion on the side.  And some roasted rutabaga (still not responding to me).

This dinner tested whether I could exercise my love of char and caramelization without overdoing it, as I usually do.  I got close.  The pork chop had enough of a char that I was afraid I'd burnt it.  But no, it was rosy inside.  But not, as I had also feared, the burnt-on-the-outside-raw-on-the-inside thing that's great with steak, but scary with pork.  Based on the liquid that was released when I sliced it, I think I didn't rest the chop long enough -- but thanks, I suppose, to the brining, it didn't even hint of being dried-out.

And with the cabbage, too, for once I managed to stop short of incinerating it -- just getting it nice and brown-crusted and sweet.

Now there were some obvious choices for the beverage pairing.  Cider would have been a good idea.  And a Riesling Kabinett would have been a knee-jerk wine.

But I  had another idea.

2021 Les Vins Pirouettes Ultra Violet de David

This is a red-white coferment.  The plurality grape is Pinot Noir.  Then, in descending order of volume, Pinot Blanc, Pinot Gris, Riesling, Auxerrois, Muscat, and Gewürtztraminer.

You can see what they were driving at here.  And they pretty much got it.

Despite the plurality of Pinot Noir, this is a majority-white wine, and it drinks more like an orange than a red/white coferment.  But the Noir is in there.

Which worked really well with the pork chop (whose brining gave it a very high porky flavor) (that's a good thing).  It was my usual litany for this kind of pairing (which I find myself going to more and more often):  the tannins (and they are definitely there) (not by reason of any of the grapes in the blend, but rather the extended maceration) bond with the fat, while the acid cuts it.

And of course these are mostly grapes that each on its own could plausibly accompany a pork dish.  (I mean, they know a thing or two about eating pork and cabbage where this wine comes from, in Alsace.)

But what all this is leaving out is that this wine is like the very definition of glou.  It tastes great; it goes down easy.  This is the kind of wine where you feel like, if you're not looking, you could down three bottles.

Now I often, even usually, want something else from wine than just that.  But on a Sunday night, with food it complements, this hit the spot.

Edited November 13, 2023 by Sneakeater

[Sneakeater]

You know, Gewürtztraminer has such a powerful flavor that even though it is by far the scarcest grape in this blend, it decidedly makes itself felt.

Interesting.

Edited November 13, 2023 by Sneakeater