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Category: Albariño

‘If They Want To Drink Merlot, We’re Drinking Merlot!’

June 20, 2017 / / 0 Comments

I know what I like, of course, and one of the things I like is the wonderfully gigantic variety of wines that exist in this world. From Albariño to Dornfelder, Riesling to Rkatsiteli, and Xynomavro to Godello, exploring the wine universe is a pleasure and an adventure. I’ve said before that one should never bring hard and fast preconceptions or prejudices to a tasting, dinner, or wine merchant. Try. Sample. Taste. Don’t like white wine? That is, frankly, nonsense. Sure, we all have our favorites, the stuff we go back to again and again and put in our inventories and Eurocaves or closets. But if you don’t color outside the lines, you’re depriving yourself of a lot of life.

Which brings me to Merlot, and a wine I tasted recently. It’s the 2013 Merlot from Swanson Vineyards, and I loved it. So did a woman with whom I shared it, a woman who had told me on more than one occasion that she did not care for Merlot.

You can read my take (and hers) on the Swanson Vineyards Merlot by clicking here.

And if you want more wine, check out these pieces:

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

James plates salmon tartare

Brockhaus Kicks Off With The First Supper

September 29, 2014 / / 1 Comment
James plates salmon tartare

Plating salmon tartare

It had been in the making for a while, this dinner event, which was designed to launch Brockhaus, a culinary think tank with its current headquarters in Houston, Texas, and its roots the world over. The menu was developed and discussed a number of times, and once a venue was selected – and it was a perfect place for Brockhaus‘ premiere, a beautiful home owned by gracious people, Jared and Caroline Starry LeBlanc – all systems were go.

The team was in fine form; Chris Stanton an ideal sous, Isaac Johnson the consummate sommelier, and Angela Shah an impeccable hostess and all-around troubleshooter. We began prepping that morning (Saturday, September 27) around 11, starting with an asparagus purée, a chip for the salmon tartare, and corn and jalapeño fritters, and the hours passed agreeably. Chris and I have cooked together many times, as have Angela and I. Isaac, a friend whom I met since moving to Houston, shares my taste in wine, and his front-of-the-house talents are prodigious. He and I worked together seamlessly, and we all kept one another on form. Working with all of them felt just right.

The first guests arrived around 7 p.m., right on time, and we served them a Greek Brut Rosé to accompany the fritters, the beginning of some great pairings.

The First Supper menu

The First Supper menu

We had designed the evening to include a mingling period, and once all of the guests were there the brut flowed, as did the conversation, everyone assembled in front of the open kitchen. Isaac and I had the schedule under control, and we ushered the guests to the table on time, ready for the meal proper to begin.

As the menu above shows, it began with wild salmon tartare, and closed with pecan semifreddo and walnut cake. In between came scallops and spot prawns and clams, plus duck and rib eye. And more.

It is my observation that many people rush through their meals, not fully enjoying each taste, each bite. Not these guests. We spaced the courses well, and as midnight approached the conversation emanating from the dining room was as lively as it had been at 8 p.m. It pleased me mightily to hear the comments about the food Chris and I cooked, the various tastes of each plate. It pleased me greatly that these individuals sat around a table for nearly five hours and enjoyed the food and wine we served them. Here, one guest’s words:

Dear James and Angela: Thank you for an absolutely fantastic evening. The food was off the charts. We were amazed at the multiple layers of taste in each dish. I know you put a tremendous amount of work into the prep and cooking of the meal … it was apparent in the taste.

We also enjoyed the company of your guests. It was a most engaging evening of conversation. The only thing missing was having the two of you sitting with us during dinner.

Warmest regards,

Russ

Another wrote: Such an exciting night to share with so many great dinner companions. I can’t stop thinking about the incredible menu.

It was an honor to cook for all of them, and we look forward to seeing them again.

Brockhaus is planning its next dinner, and is looking for another great venue. Let us know if you would like to become involved.

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Bringing Catalan Cuisine to Houston: A Promising Start

September 17, 2014 / / 0 Comments
Tuna, with green onions.

Tuna, with green onions.

The time I spent in the Arzak kitchen was brief but rewarding, and several dining tours of Spain – including days and nights in Barcelona, Girona, and Donostia –  instilled in me a passion for Basque and Catalan cuisine. So I was excited when I heard that a chef from Catalonia was going to be in charge of a new kitchen in Houston, BCN Taste & Tradition.

Angela and I were invited to a preview dinner at BCN last night, and it was a great beginning: excellent beef tartare, ahi tuna, a rib eye with foie gras, and, of course, jamón Ibérico. BCN opens to the public on Saturday, September 20, and I will definitely schedule a return visit(s). Service was outstanding, the dining room and bar area are understated and unique for Houston (one can easily imagine being in an elegant, comfortable European restaurant when dining at BCN), and the menu is a showcase of Spanish deliciousness.

Lobster, deconstructed.

Lobster, deconstructed.

That jamón that we love so much.

That jamón that we love so much.

Rib eye, with foie that could have used a bit more sear.

Rib eye, with foie that could have used a bit more sear.

 

 

The perfect way to arrive in New Orleans

July 17, 2013 / / 1 Comment

I  drove up from lower Florida yesterday – that state is too long – headed to New Orleans, where I am spending two days on my way to Houston, so I asked my friend John T. Edge where he would eat now if he could have three meals in the Crescent City. Pêche, one of his picks, was my destination last night, so I made sure I drove rapidly enough to make it in time for dinner. It’s on Magazine Street, and as I approached the building I spied a parking spot directly in front of the restaurant’s main entrance. I took it, got out of the car, and marveled at my luck. As I shook off the road two young guys who were smoking on the sidewalk asked me if I was “from around here”. I told them no, that I had just arrived from Florida … they were bartenders, in town for Tales of the Cocktail, a five-day convention/festival. So, not only do I find a parking spot right outside the restaurant, but I arrive in New Orleans on the opening day of an event dedicated to mixology … That is the perfect way to arrive.

I took a seat at the raw bar and scanned the the crowd; the place was packed, loud, the the diners ran the gamut from old to young, hipster to grandparents. John’s recommendation, as I knew it would be, was sublime. I started with a small bowl of smoked tuna dip, which contained a hint of heat – perhaps jalapeño – and was a creamy delight on the Saltines that accompanied it.

The oysters looked good as they were shucked in front of me, so I chose six: Blue Points from Connecticut, Louisiana Area 3, and St. James (Virginia.) Cold, crisp, revivifying. Eating them drove the long drive right out of me.

Blue Points, Louisiana Area 3, a St. James (Virginia)

Blue Points (Connecticut), Louisiana Area 3, and St. James (Virginia)

Next came raw tuna with fennel, tomato water and corn (and a little basil thrown in). Again, amazing, fresh flavors. Tuna was a bit warm for my taste, but that was probably because I took my time with the dip and oysters before I proceeded to that plate.

Tuna, fennel, tomato water and corn

Tuna, fennel, tomato water and corn

I then took a pause and perused the menu, considering the Louisiana Shrimp Roll before deciding on the Grouper Collars. I am very fond of Hake Cheeks, which I ate often in San Sebastián, so I thought I would give the grouper a try. It was a good choice. Served with tomato and cucumber and parsley, fried to the perfect level of crispiness, full of tender, rich meat.

Grouper collars, pepper jelly, and cucumbers

Grouper collars, pepper jelly, and cucumbers

Bartenders surrounded me, I was finishing a glass of Albariño, and New Orleans was just outside. It was a perfect evening. Donald Link, Stephen Stryjewski, and Ryan Prewitt have a new winner on their hands.

Mon Oncle, or, a Wine Bar Opens in Girona

November 10, 2012 / / 4 Comments

I left Barcelona with wine on my mind and in the trunk of the car. I was headed to Girona, a city Angela and I had visited in 2011 (we had a reservation at El Celler de Can Roca). This time I was going to visit friends who lived there. They were opening a wine bar, and I thought it would be fun to observe their work and give them some help. I had taken a train from San Sebastien down to Barcelona, and, after a few meals and a night at Camp Nou seeing Messi & Co. work their magic, I rented a car and headed toward the ocean. (I did make one stop, for lunch, at Can Fabes, more on which later.) (Update: Here is the story of my afternoon at Can Fabes.)

Girona is a beautiful city, with a small river running through it. It is not far from the French border, and its people are fiercely independent. I had my trusty GPS unit, and had programmed into it the village in which my friend and her husband lived, about 20 minutes outside of Girona. They own an amazingly beautiful bed and breakfast in which I stayed one night during my visit, and I recommend it highly.

They were not home when I arrived, so I called and arranged to meet them in Girnona, near Mon Oncle, the name of the soon-to-open wine bar. It is in a building in a large open square, in the old district; in other words, a perfect location. Plenty of space for outdoor dining, for sitting and enjoying wine with friends.

When I reached the square, after a stroll along the river, Mon Oncle was abuzz with activity; Axel, one of the owners, was helping affix a sign to the building’s exterior, and his sister, Marie, and her husband were inside unloading supplies and going over inventory. I had not seen Axel since 2005, and the last time I saw Marie was in New York in 2002. We greeted and I told them I was available for work. We toasted with beers and I started helping ready chairs and tables for the square. Mon Oncle’s opening night was two days away, and cases of wine and water and beer were stacked inside the restaurant, ready for the open-house crowd that would gather to celebrate.

What occurred two days later was magical, and perfect. Hundreds of people showed up (even a group of drummers), and they drank and dined and danced and, in short, created the perfect atmosphere for the premiere of Girona’s newest wine bar.

A quick taste, or two

September 26, 2012 / / 1 Comment

Wine … oh lovely wine. What would we do without it? How much less would we enjoy our confit de canard and lamb stew and cheeses if we had no wine at the table. I would (and I know many others who would agree with me wholeheartedly) be unhappy at a meal without wine.

For the past several months I have been tasting a lot of wines, first in Germany, in the Pfalz, then in Spain, in Basque Country, then in Paris, and more recently in Catalunya. Today I am in Provence, and had the pleasure of walking along a path that separated Côtes du Rhône fields from Châteauneuf-du-Pape plots. On both sides of me short, old vines hung heavy with grapes nearly ready for harvest. I visited two producers – Domaine de la Janasse and Alain Jaume & Fils – and sampled some great wines, both Côtes du Rhônes and Châteauneuf-du-Papes.

It is always enjoyable to walk through a cellar, smelling the mustiness and feeling the humidity, knowing that wines are breathing and growing all around you. And I always imagine the meals they are waiting to join and think of the people who will enjoy it all.

Perfection, for one

September 5, 2012 / / 1 Comment

Every now and then I wander into a restaurant by accident, or spontaneously, no reservations, no recommendations from friends, never having read anything of it in a newspaper or magazine. And as much as I recall with infinite pleasure my meal at Blue Hill at Stone Barns, the table reserved there months in advance, or my many nights spent dining at Babbo‘s bar, having waited with wine glasses in hand for a space or two to open at the noisy and warm expanse of wood, these “accidental” meals linger in my mind and leave me sated in an entirely different way. I recently had one such spontaneous experience, and it is about that I now write.

Around the corner from my apartment in San Sebastián there is a wine and tapas bar called Divinum, a place of high ceilings and tables of light-colored wood. It opens early in the morning, and is full of people young and old late into the evening.

I walked in on a recent night and made my way to the crowded bar, behind which a very efficient woman stood. I ordered a glass of Albariño and studied the menu, settling on a pintxo of slow-cooked pork. It is served in a round shape on a small plate, with its own juice, thickened by adding raisins and pine nuts. It is fatty, in the good way, and tender, and one can taste the time and care that went into selecting the pork and preparing it, even if pork cooked this way does not require an excess of attention.

Pork, pine nuts, raisins, and care

Pork, pine nuts, raisins, and care

I could eat three of these plates at a sitting. Or more.

I next ordered a Rioja red, because I love Rioja, and its wines. This to accompany a wonderful plate of beef cheek, served with a rich sauce, full of warmth and meat that did melt in my mouth. Not figuratively, but actual melting. (The photograph I took of it does not do it justice, so I will not ruin my memory of this dish by including an ugly image.)

And how about closing a meal with a foie gras pintxo? Of course that is what I did. It was warm, and cooked just right, so the outer surface carried crispness, and the rest … well, the rest gave me what foie gras always does: an occasion to close my eyes and taste, blocking out all other sensations. It was served on top of a piece of toasted bread, and a swirl of apricot purée decorated the plate. I did not need the decoration. The flakes of sea salt on top of the foie added to its wonder. It is dessert, my ideal dessert. Of course, with it I drank a slightly sweet Riesling from the Pfalz.

Foie gras closes my meal

Foie gras closes my meal

That was my perfect meal, at least for this week.

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