Month: January 2018

An (Italian) Gentleman of Wine: Osvaldo Pascolini

Have you had a good glass of Prosecco lately? A really good one? There’s a lot of, well, let’s just say, “mediocre” examples out there, so don’t drink that. Osvaldo Pascolini, whom I met a month or so ago, likes Prosecco, and drinks it often. I asked him a few questions about wine recently, and you might be interested in what he has to say. He’s the subject of the latest Wine Talk, which you can read here.

Pascolini is a geologist, works in the energy industry, and hails from Italy. He now resides in Houston, teaches courses on wine, and never swirls a sparkling wine. Open a bottle and get to know him.

Osvaldo Pascolini knows a bit about geology and wine.

Drink well, with people you like.

Want more wine Read on? 

From Boston to Austin, With Wine in Mind
A Chardonnay For Your Mother (and You)
Don’t Dismiss the Peat
Distinctive Whisky Enters a New Era
A Whisky Legend Visits Houston
A Rare Cask, Indeed
Austin Whisky, Strange Name
Here’s Your Texas Rum Goddess
A ZaZa Wine Guy Loves Great Service
A Merlot That Your Snob Friend Will Love
French Couple Make a Sauvignon Blanc in California
A Perfect Afternoon Chardonnay
Terry Theise Talks Reisling
A New Wine Wonderland
Paris Wine Goddess Tells All
Rice Village Wine Bar Has a Cleveland Touch
A Texas White Blend for Your Table
A Pinot Noir Full of Flavor
This Pinot Gris From Oregon Pairs Well With Cheese
Willamette, Dammit!
A Value Rioja
Drink Pink!
Underbelly Veteran Goes for Grenache
A Man of Letters and Wine
Ms. Champagne Wants a Nebuchadnezzar
The Wine Artist Goes for Chardonnay
This American Loves Spain and Its Wines
Houston’s Wine Whisperer Has a Soft Touch
Blackberry Farm’s Somm Pours in Splendor
Mr. Pinot Noir: Donald Patz of Patz & Hall
A Cork Dork Wants to Spend More Time in Tuscany
Sommelier Turned Restaurateur Daringly Goes Greek
Texas Master Sommelier Debunks Wine Geeks
A Bottle From Gigondas Changed This Houston Man’s Life

Oil Man Falls in Love, and the Rest is Good-Taste History
Ryan Cooper of Camerata is a Riesling Man
Mixing It Up With Jeremy Parzen, an Ambassador of Italy
Sommelier at One of Houston’s Top Wine Bars Loves Underdogs

Lardo Takes Me to Florence, Manti to Istanbul: That’s a Great Week in Houston Dining

You’re walking around Florence, taking in as much as you can, running your hands across the stones of buildings, wondering about the people who lived and loved and died in them a thousand years before you were born. You imagine all the wild boar roaming in the hills above the city, think about feasts of yore at which cinghiale starred, you wind down a narrow passage near the river and find yourself outside the restaurant with the rabbit dish you love. At your table, you order a quartino of Nebbiolo and accept a small plate of lardo, a gift from the owner. Outside, the sun begins to set. Inside, the evening begins, deliciously.

Lardo. If you’ve never experienced the pleasure that is lardo melting on your tongue, get a table at Houston restaurant Charivari (no, it’s not the only place in the city that serves lardo, but it’s certainly home to some fine examples of it) and ask for it. The chef, Johann Schuster, will be happy to oblige. Here’s a look at a platter of the food that I sampled recently at the midtown establishment — and I find myself wanting more as I write this.

Lardo, two ways, and tongue head cheese.

Read about Schuster’s lardo here, and don’t delay if you want some, because this is not mass-produced salumi. (I write about a great dish at Nancy’s Hustle as well in the piece. The manti served at the new — and popular — restaurant in Houston’s EaDo area, took me back to Istanbul, as the lardo transported me to Florence. Not bad for a week in Texas.)

Finally, I give you sausage, two made with skill by Schuster, which I tasted on the lardo evening. There’s a rich, decadent blood sausage, and a garlic sausage that is as good as any I’ve ever had. You’ll love them.

Blood sausage and a hearty garlic sausage, as served at Charivari

A Wine For Your Mother, And You — Plus, Some Fine Rum Distilled in Texas, and The Brockhaus Returns

There are times, when working on stories, that one comes across individuals who make an immediate impact. That impression and experience can, of course, be good and enriching, or it can be upsetting and frustrating. Both types of encounters provoke thought, in different ways, and while discourse with and exposure to jerks and zero-sum people can provide one with a level of amusement, I much prefer dealing with and learning from unselfish, self-secure subjects, people for whom life is a rollicking adventure, men and women confident enough to know that there is always something new to learn and that being kind and giving does not lead down the road to mediocrity. The world is a better place because of these types, and would, I am confident, be much more rewarding if the zero-sum cohort disappeared with haste.

I recently had the pleasure of meeting with and/or talking to individuals — both in the beverage industry  — who make the lives of those around them better. They are passionate about their craft, they display infectious enthusiasm about what they are doing, and they are clearly and genuinely interested in what others do. They are worth knowing.

This woman makes some fine rum. (Courtesy Railean Distillers)

 

I’m referring to Kelly Railean and Joe Donelan (click on their names for additional words about them and what they do). I met Railean in December at her distillery in San Leon, Texas, took a tour of her workshop, and sampled her wares. I recommend you do the same. I have spoken with Donelan on the phone several times, each conversation thoughtful and attentive. The Brockhaus is partnering with Donelan Family Wines on an upcoming dinner benefitting an animal-welfare and shelter charity, a direct result of that pointed disavowal of the zero-sum mentality. In December, I had the pleasure of tasting Donelan’s 2014 Nancie Chardonnay, named after Joe’s mother, and it’s drinking well now. He’s built a business in California that honors his passions and his family, and, as has Railean, he’s added joy to the lives of many along the way.

Good people, making good things, doing good. I hope you have a multitude of such people in your life, and I hope you steer clear of that sad zero-sum trap.

Want more stories about wine and spirits and the people who make them? Read on:

A Chardonnay For Your Mother (and You)
Don’t Dismiss the Peat
Distinctive Whisky Enters a New Era
A Whisky Legend Visits Houston
A Rare Cask, Indeed
Austin Whisky, Strange Name
Here’s Your Texas Rum Goddess
A ZaZa Wine Guy Loves Great Service
A Merlot That Your Snob Friend Will Love
French Couple Make a Sauvignon Blanc in California
A Perfect Afternoon Chardonnay
Terry Theise Talks Reisling
A New Wine Wonderland
Paris Wine Goddess Tells All
Rice Village Wine Bar Has a Cleveland Touch
A Texas White Blend for Your Table
A Pinot Noir Full of Flavor
This Pinot Gris From Oregon Pairs Well With Cheese
Willamette, Dammit!
A Value Rioja
Drink Pink!
Underbelly Veteran Goes for Grenache
A Man of Letters and Wine
Ms. Champagne Wants a Nebuchadnezzar
The Wine Artist Goes for Chardonnay
This American Loves Spain and Its Wines
Houston’s Wine Whisperer Has a Soft Touch
Blackberry Farm’s Somm Pours in Splendor
Mr. Pinot Noir: Donald Patz of Patz & Hall
A Cork Dork Wants to Spend More Time in Tuscany
Sommelier Turned Restaurateur Daringly Goes Greek
Texas Master Sommelier Debunks Wine Geeks
A Bottle From Gigondas Changed This Houston Man’s Life

Oil Man Falls in Love, and the Rest is Good-Taste History
Ryan Cooper of Camerata is a Riesling Man
Mixing It Up With Jeremy Parzen, an Ambassador of Italy
Sommelier at One of Houston’s Top Wine Bars Loves Underdogs

 

Cornbread, Black-Eyed Peas, and A Very Good Chocolate Cake: Miss Lewis Is With Us Today

Perhaps you’ve had a wonderful 2017; then again, you might be of the opinion that the year has been a bad one. I, as often as I can, try to remind myself that good and bad are intermingled, twined, eternally debating and by turns battling it out for dominance, good on top for a while, then losing to bad, which takes its place at the top for a time. Then there are those days and nights during which good and bad share the roost. Those might seem strange periods, but the wise among us know it’s aways that way.

I imagine 2018 will bring more of the same, as human years always have. Our minds either figure out how to assimilate and understand the dualities of good and bad, and stay above lazy despair or vapid elation, or fight against the bad, a struggle that — and these latter types of minds, in my opinion, never realize that their crusade for “their” good results in the killing of the self — is futile and cripples the struggler, often mortally.

Wake up and smell the coffee in 2018.

The first day of a year, as arbitrary as that day might in actuality be, is a good time to decide which mind you want to have. It’s January 1, 2018, and I’m thinking of Edna Lewis, who had a great mind and soul. I’m thinking of her because Angela made A Very Good Chocolate Cake yesterday, and today I’m making cornbread. The recipes for both come from Lewis, a woman with whom I wish I had been able to share a table at least once, a beautiful woman with soul and spirit and grace and talent who conquered New York City with her food and hospitality. She also: made a dress for Marilyn Monroe; worked with Dorcas Avedon (Richard’s wife) as a dress copier; and, perhaps most famously, presided over the kitchen at Café Nicholson, where she served Truman Capote, Marlon Brando, Tennessee Williams, William Faulkner, Diana Vreeland, and Marlene Dietrich, to name but a few of the many who found nourishment for their bodies and souls at her table. If you know Miss Lewis, celebrate her memory by creating something from one of her cookbooks. If you do know not know of her, now’s the time.

Angela (and Edna Lewis) did this.

I’ve made A Very Good Chocolate Cake many times, and have enjoyed hearing from others who made it at my urging, or after reading this. I’ll go ahead and persuade you to make it, because it is nothing but good.

© 2024 Mise en Place

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑