Mise en Place

Wine, Food, and Other Vital Things

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Ettore Vino & Cucina has a rustic and comfortable feel. (Ettore Winery)

LA Farmers Market Feast: Ettore Winery Duo’s Petit Verdot Shines

February 15, 2026 / / 0 Comments

The Original Farmers Market is a Los Angeles treasure. It was founded at the corner of 3rd and Fairfax in 1934 as a “village” in which local farmers could sell their wares. The site had previously been a 256-acre ranch, and when oil was discovered on it, in 1900, the owner, A.F. Gilmore, replaced his dairy cattle with oil derricks. The city of Los Angeles had yet to encroach on the property as the crude was brought forth from the ground.

When the development of Los Angeles caught up to the property no new derricks were permitted, and, eventually, the Gilmore expanse grew quiet. It stayed that way into the 1930s, until two entrepreneurs, Fred Beck and Roger Dahljelm, convinced Gilmore’s son, Earl Bell Gilmore, that a farmers market would be a great venture for the property. The rest is history.

The Gilmores still own the market, and today it’s home to more than 100 vendors, including grocers, restaurants (the famed Du-Par’s among them) and shops and businesses, from jewelry, clothing, and art stores to barbers, shoemakers, and houseware merchants.

I don’t get to the Original Farmers Market often enough, but I recently attended a wine dinner at a restaurant there, Ettore Vino & Cucina, and not only were the food and wines pleasing, but the visit has also served as a personal directive for me to take myself to 3rd and Fairfax on a regular basis.

Ettore Vino & Cucina is the restaurant and tasting room of Ettore Winery, which is located in Hopland, California. Ettore Biraghi and Sofia Rivier are the winemakers, and the estate, in Mendocino’s Sanel Valley, comprises 64 acres, of which 35 are planted with vines. The property is situated 500 to 600 feet above sea level, and gravelly, loamy soils dominate.

The Ettore estate vineyard is the source of five grape varieties. (Ettore Winery)
The Ettore vineyard lies at the foot of Duncan Peak in the Sanel Valley. (Ettore Winery)

The occasion for my visit to Ettore Vino & Cucina was a winemaker dinner, presented by Biraghi and Rivier, along with Fabrizio de Falco, the restaurant’s managing director. Nine wines paired with a five-course menu was the plan, and I could not have been happier with the pairings if I had selected them myself.

The team behind Ettore Vino & Cucina, Sofia Rivier, Fabrizio de Falco, and Ettore Biraghi, speak to guests at a wine dinner at the restaurant. (Please the Palate)
A menu whose stars were the Bolognese and petit verdot. (Brockhaus Photography)

First, the two wines that pleased me the most: the 2023 Ettore Pure Chardonnay ($18) and the 2021 Ettore Petit Verdot ($38). The former, an unoaked, 100 percent stainless steel wine that does undergo full malolactic conversion, was delightful with the prosciutto di Parma and gnocco fritto, while the latter, partnered with a hanger steak (diaframma in Italian), was the pairing of the evening.

Gnocco fritto and prosciutto di Parma began the wine dinner. (Please the Palate)
Hanger steak paired well with a 2021 Petit Verdot from Ettore Winery. (Please the Palate)

What I like about this chardonnay is its vibrancy: one sip brightens the palate, and it is an excellent food wine. Lemon and jasmine on the nose, nice herbal notes as well. Medium acidity and body and an austere finish result in a wine that drinks above its price point. The alcohol level is 13.5 percent, and 1,296 cases were produced.

The petit verdot was for me the best wine of the evening; Biraghi and Rivier used fruit from vines planted 29 and 26 years ago to produce this wine, which is dark purple in color and full of body. Robust tannins, distinct violet and dark berry aromas, touches of spice (black pepper) and a fine herbaceousness combine to create a beautiful wine. A total of 168 cases were produced.

A sformato di carote was served over a gorgonzola sauce. (Please the Palate)
Tagliatelle alla Bolognese was a great companion for the Ettore petit verdot. (Please the Palate)

Ettore farms organically, and uses products certified by California Certified Organic Farmers, a nonprofit group that promotes organic agricultural practices through education, advocacy, and certification. Biraghi, who was born in Varese, Italy, and lives in Switzerland, and Rivier, who was raised in Argentina and trained in Switzerland and now resides in the Mendocino Valley, both put a premium on making low-intervention wines, and the phrase “made with organic grapes” is displayed prominently on the brand’s bottles. A major component of the duo’s winemaking is the Purovino method, which is designed to reduce or eliminate the addition of sulfites. Grapes are treated with ozone, which sanitizes them and helps manage oxidation. All fruit at Ettore is harvested by hand.

Biraghi first visited Mendocino in 2015, and had a hunch that its terroir would suit his goal of making low-intervention wines; his project was established in 2019, though the winery itself is more than 100 years old. The brand includes olive oil as well, made from trees on the Ettore property.

The other wines I tasted at the dinner included Ettore’s 2022 and 2019 Reserve Chardonnay ($22), 2022 and 2019 Rosso ($28), 2022 and 2020 Cabernet Sauvignon Signature ($34), and the winery’s 2019 Merlot ($35). The Rosso bottles — a blend of cabernet sauvignon, merlot, and petit verdot — were paired on the menu with the tagliatelle alla Bolognese, to wonderful effect. Rich meat sauce, rich, full-bodied wines that cut through the bold dish, toothsome homemade pasta … nothing more needed.

If you are in Los Angeles I recommend adding a visit to the farmers market and booking a table for dinner at Ettore Vino & Cucina. You can purchase Ettore wines here, or ask for them at your favorite merchant.

What I’m Reading: How to Drink Responsibly, Cathiard Passes, and Death to the Wine Snob

January 30, 2026 / / 2 Comments

The news never stops coming, and keeping up with everything is an impossible task. Regrettably, there are too few hours in a day that one can devote to reading, and though I attempt to stay on top of as much as I can, my stacks of newspapers, magazines, and books are always beckoning (and expanding). There’s wine and food, of course, but there’s so much more, from literature and cinema to essays and profiles. Here’s a look at a few things that caught my eye this week.

Esther Mobley has written a piece about the “doom loop” in which Republic National Distributing Co. finds itself. The company quit doing business in California last year, leaving more than 1,700 employees (and retailers and producers) in limbo. The worst appears yet to come for the organization. Read it here.

From bad to worse: Michel Bettane, writing in “World of Fine Wine,” says that “the wine world is on the brink of the biggest struggle for its survival since the phylloxera era.” Bettane is retiring after 20 years of working with the magazine, and he’s not, shall we say, overly optimistic about wine’s future. Here’s his missive.

The wine industry is facing many vexing issues, including consumers who are drinking less.

Pete Wells, who was the chief restaurant critic of “The New York Times” for more than a decade, has recently been writing about how he developed healthier eating habits, and while he says he had little trouble cutting “some of the idiocy” from the way he ate (no more duck skin or sticky buns) and found it easy to come up with substitutions for white rice and and other starchy food, recalibrating the way he drank was a hurdle. Here’s Wells on his beverage journey.

Wine snobs need to go away, says Dusan Jelic.

No one likes a wine snob. They might provide amusement, but I’ve never enjoyed the pleasure of the company of one. However, do they deserve the death penalty? If you believe Dusan Jelic they do. He proclaims here that “we’ve let the Wine Snob hijack the industry for too long.”

Daniel Cathiard, from grocery store owner to competitive skier to Smith-Haut-Lafitte owner.

Daniel Cathiard passed away on Wednesday; he was 81. Cathiard was the co-owner of Bordeaux’s Château Smith-Haut-Lafitte and Napa’s Cathiard Vineyard, among other properties. His life was a grand adventure.

I meant to include this dialogue between Terry Theise, a man I’ve admired for a long time, and Meg Maker in a previous “What I’m Reading,” but here it is now. A wonderful discussion about wine writing. (Here’s a Wine Talk featuring Theise.)

George Saunders has published a new novel, “Vigil,” which came out this week. He once thought he was going to die while traveling in a jet that was hit by geese, but he did not. Here is a fun read about the author.

Thomas Bernhard’s literary output is prodigious. (Still from ‘Thomas Bernhard: Three Days’ by Ferry Radax)

Thomas Bernhard is one of my favorite writers. He was perhaps not the most pleasant man to spend time with, but his writing is magical, moving, profound, and honest. He has influenced many writers, as Oscar Dorr explains in this piece.

A famed pinot noir producer, Arista Winery, will soon be no more. Brothers Ben and Mark McWilliams told Esther Mobley that it was time to exit. If you want to purchase some of the winery’s remaining stock act fast.

Wines travel with me as memories, and often sneak up on me when I least expect it. (Brian Scott/Creative Commons/flickr)

Wine Makes Memories, Plus Carneros Chardonnays and Some Lambrusco

January 26, 2026 / / 0 Comments

Memories of wines I’ve tasted persist, in some instances for a long while. I left Brooklyn — bound for a newspaper job in Abu Dhabi — back in 2008, and a few evenings before my departure I shared a table with a friend at a favorite restaurant near my apartment. I brought along a 1991 Château Pavie, and remember still my first sip of that bottle. Elegant and ethereal, well suited to the weather, cuisine, and occasion. On another evening I was in Paris, at a wine bar in the Marais hanging out with colleagues after work celebrating a milestone publication. The bottle this time was something from the Languedoc, an inexpensive little red wine that likely cost all of 10 euros (a 1999 Château Pavie can be had for $279.99 on FineLiquors.com). These two wines had nothing in common, save their country of origin, and both are indelibly etched in my memory.

I would love an endless supply of this.

That’s what wine, at its best, can do. It allows us to enjoy the moment, the foods we pair with the bottle, the design and sounds of the dining room, the smile of a friend, the profound immediacy. Then, months, years, or decades later, the memory of the wine brings pleasure once again. You have similar memories, I imagine, of bottles and tables and dishes and the people with whom you shared wines and conversation. Sounds and scents and images and tastes and … so much more that might not be knowable to you until one day you are sitting alone at a table in a restaurant and into your mind slides memories of that long-ago dinner and the wines served at it.

I try to keep this in mind when opening a bottle, whether I’m sampling for reviews or sharing, say, a Pfalz riesling with friends at a meal. I know the wine means something in the moment, and the idea that certain wines will sustain me in manner other than in-the-mouth gustatorily gives me pleasure.

Now, on to a new year of tastes, flavors, dinners and dishes, and, of course, memories.

Chris Kajani has been making wine at Bouchaine Vineyards since 2015.

I tasted three different 2023-vintage chardonnays from Bouchaine recently, and winemaker Chris Kajani is, based on my impression of these wines, continuing her astute, intuitive stewardship of the Carneros AVA estate. The lineup included Unoaked ($40), Estate ($40), and Reserve ($70) chardonnays, and I sampled them at one sitting, each bottle chilled to 52 degrees Fahrenheit.

The 2023 growing season was, according to Bouchaine’s team, “a lesson in patience.” A cooler summer led to slower ripening and later harvest — the end of September instead of the more typical late August. The chardonnay fruit had additional time to develop, and that time and quality is well represented in these wines.

A ‘naked’ chardonnay from the Carneros AVA.

The Bouchaine Unoaked chardonnay is suited to those who like to drink wine made from this noble grape devoid of oak influence, malolactic conversion (some winemakers, however, do allow no-oak chardonnay to undergo malo conversion) or bâtonnage. I like wines from Chablis, and I really liked this chardonnay from Napa’s Carneros district. Sweet-tart apple aromas, a touch of lemon blossom and other citrus flavors, fresh, crisp, vibrant, and excellent with grilled shrimp basted with garlic butter — my pairing for dinner on the evening I sampled these Bouchaine wines. Drink now, or hold for a year or two if curious about how it will age. Click here to purchase.

The Estate Chardonnay made by Kajani does see oak, and here’s some specificity from the Bouchaine team: It was bottled on Aug. 5, 2024, and aged for 10 months — 50 percent malolactic conversion, 90 percent barrel fermented, 10 percent tank fermented, 18 percent new oak. Kajani produces more than a dozen chardonnays from the estate’s blocks and blends what she deems the best of them for the final product. I liked this wine’s beguiling combination of richness and vibrance. Oak is not overwhelming, and the mélange of citrus and apple made me very happy. There’s no reason to not serve this with a roast pork loin and share with a few good friends. Click here to purchase.

This chardonnay pairs well with scallops.

The final bottle I tasted from this trio was the Reserve Chardonnay. The Bouchaine team said its intention here was “to create a concentrated, lush style of Chardonnay,” and Kajani succeeded in that. It was fermented 100 percent in barrel (38 percent new oak), and aged for nine months. Fruit was harvested from October 16-19, and bottling took place on Aug. 5, 2024; 200 cases were produced. Malolactic conversion is in full force here, along with sur lie aging. Carneros chardonnay is known for its cool-climate leanness and acidity, and that shines in this wine; the symbiotic play of oak and malo conversion and Bouchaine’s 1984-planted chardonnay performs with aplomb here. On the evening following my Bouchaine tasting session I wrapped some sea scallops in jamón Ibérico and seared them, and I drank the Bouchaine Reserve Chardonnay with those scallops. Delicious, sensual interplay. Purchase here.

This dry amber wine from Georgia is a great value.

Another 2023 I sampled recently is the Vazisubani Estate 3 Qvevri, an amber wine from Georgia. It’s a blend of rkatsiteli (15 percent), mtsvane (40 Percent), and kisi (45 percent), grapes identified with the country that many consider the birthplace of wine: research has documented more than 8,000 years of continuous winemaking in the region. Qvevri refers to the clay vessels traditionally used by Georgians; wines are fermented in the vessels underground. This orange wine carries a suggested retail price of $19.99, making it in my opinion a great value. Fruit, from vines planted between 1,500 and 1,800 feet above sea level, was harvested by hand and partially destemmed. Great acidity and robust tannins, dried apricots, green almond, licorice root, orange peel. This sees no oak, but something in the mouth is evocative of baking spices or vanilla. I’d love to drink this wine with a chicken dish featuring a walnut-based sauce.

Cleto Chiarli is a historic producer of Lambrusco.

Rounding out this tasting roster is the Cleto Chiarli “Centenario” Lambrusco di Modena DOC Amabile ($15). I am an avid booster of Lambrusco, and Cleto Chiarli is one of my favorite producers. The Centenario was introduced 100 years after the winery’s 1860 founding, and is 100 percent Lambrusco Grasparossa. Alcohol is 8 percent, so keep that in mind when you are looking for something refreshing to drink with pizza or a hamburger. The high acidity of this wine balances its sweetness in a manner that makes one keep going back for one more sip. The Charmant method is used here, and if you are wondering, “Amabile” refers to a wine that is sweet, but not so sweet that dessert is its only wise pairing. I would, however, have no issue if you chose to open this bottle and drink it with a slice of not-so-sweet chocolate cake. Purchase here.

Arnaldo Caprai loved Montefalco.

What I’m Reading: An Umbrian Legend Passes, Asimov’s Picks, and Wine and Dementia

January 13, 2026 / / 0 Comments

The news never stops coming, and keeping up with everything is an impossible task. Regrettably, there are too few hours in a day that one can devote to reading, and though I attempt to stay on top of as much as I can, my stacks of newspapers, magazines, and books are always beckoning (and expanding). There’s wine and food, of course, but there’s so much more, from literature and cinema to essays and profiles. Here’s a look at a few things that caught my eye this week.

Wine and its relationship with human health is a topic that has produced words aplenty. Morley Safer’s episode on “60 Minutes” in 1991 has long been cited in this discussion, and more recently the WHO has weighed in, stating in a widely read proclamation that “no level of alcohol consumption is safe for our health.” Dr. Erik Skovenborg, a Danish family medicine doctor who specializes in the health implications of drinking, has weighed in about wine and dementia, and his words make for good reading.

Morley Safer and ’60 Minutes’ convinced Americans to increase their consumption of red wine.

Speaking of wine and health, the CEO of the U.S. Alcohol Policy Alliance, Mike Marshall, says the guidelines issued this month by the U.S. government are “a win for the alcohol industry” (and, I add, its lobbyists). Gone are serving-size regulations; instead, the government advises, “consume less alcohol for better health.” Here is one look at the report.

This year, some of the wines Eric Asimov wants you to drink have “been the victims of stereotypes.” Others have “fallen by the wayside because of evolving tastes, changing attitudes about health, and busier lives.” His 10 genres of wines in this piece , which highlights the “unfashionable, ignored, or dismissed,” includes selections from Bordeaux and Napa, bottles of port and Madeira and sherry, and sweet Rieslings. I approve of his directive.

Don’t forget the vinyl.

Natural wine. Should I stop here? I’ve long grown tired of the phrase and all of the accessories and (often) misguided performances that have come to be associated with it. I like good wine, wine that appeals to my palate and makes my food better. I suspect you share my method, though dictated by your palate. Well, no matter. Natural wine has made its impact, and here’s one take on just that.

When’s the last time you opened a bottle of wine hailing from the Snake River Valley AVA? How about the Lewis-Clark Valley AVA or the Eagle Foothills AVA? Idaho’s winemakers want you to get to know their products, and here’s a primer on the state’s viticultural universe.

Jean-Charles Boisset is a busy man. His Boisset Collection oversees Raymond Vineyards, DeLoach, and Buena Vista, not to mention Oakville Grocery. Two actions the Frenchman recently took might free up some of his time: He closed two of his Napa Valley tasting rooms. Mon dieu.

The always dapper Jean-Charles Boisset strikes a pose in one of this establishments.

A writers’ festival in Australia has come asunder after its organizers disinvited a Palestinian-Australian author, a decision that writers including Zadie Smith and Percival Everett reacted to by disinviting themselves from Adelaide Writers’ Week. Words matter.

I’ve become a fan of “The Pitt,” and I would wager that many of you are also watching Noah Wyle as Dr. Robby. It is a moving and fast-paced drama full of heart and trauma and personalities; it is great television. Sam Anderson visited the show’s set in Los Angeles for this captivating article.

Staying in Hollywood, Matthew Deller writes that the drinks business could learn a thing or two from cinema. “Wine’s opportunity is to reclaim its place at the center of the table by restoring the social clarity that once defined it,” Deller says. Read the piece here.

Arnaldo Caprai, who passed away on Jan. 4, was a vital ambassador of Sagrantino. (Arnaldo Caprai image)

I spent the winter holidays in Umbria one year, and fell in love with the land, wines, and cuisine there. A visit to Arnaldo Caprai was for me one of the highlights of the sojourn, and news that the founder of the winery passed away on Jan. 4 saddened me. He was a kind man, and Montefalco and Sagrantino owe him much. Here’s one appreciation of the vintner.

Finally this week, forget Dry January, proclaims Robert Camuto. Instead, “years, loves, and glasses of wine should never be counted.” Here’s Camuto making a grand case for the Italian way of life.

Make Your Own Ricotta-Like Cheese at Home

December 22, 2025 / / 0 Comments

Cheese is one of life’s wonders and necessities. Many are the foods I love, but cheese? I am nothing but passionate about this wonder, this culinary miracle that comes in a multitude of shapes and sizes and textures, not to mention flavor profiles and countries and regions of origin.

My study of and appreciation for “honest” cheese began when I was a teen living in Germany and put a piece of Cambozola in my mouth. The creaminess melded with the distinct tangy flavor (there in part due to the combination of Penicillium camemberti and Penicillium roqueforti that goes into this creation), and I was forever hooked.

It’s cheese’s world … we merely live in it.

From there, wherever I have traveled or called home, cheese has been a constant. France, of course, offers me much, as do Italy and Switzerland. Germany, where I attended high school, and where my serious cheese journey began, will always be one of the centers of my tasting adventures. I recall still a piece of rauchkäse, a smoky, salty, semi-soft cow’s-milk cheese that hails from Bavaria, I tasted near Munich years ago. Smoked with juniper and birch, it was delicious.

Ricotta is another cheese (technically, it is not a true cheese, because it is made from whey, not curdled milk) I love, but at first glance it is nothing about which to get excited, at least visually. No color except white, no visible mold or veining. And most ricotta available in regular grocery stores in the U.S. is bland and rather pedestrian, lacking in complexity and nuance. Unless you have access to a small, mom-and-pop cheesemaker whose inventory includes fresh ricotta, there is a good chance that you’ve never had a quality batch of it.

But you don’t have to venture to Italy or make a special trip to your local cheesemonger (though do visit your cheesemonger) to get your hands on decent ricotta; do as I do and make it yourself. It’s not difficult, and you can control every aspect of the process, including creating your bespoke texture, adding flavor notes, and choosing the type of milk used.

Traditional Method

First, a note. Traditional cheesemakers — in this case I am referring to those who plied (and ply) their trade in Italy — have for centuries used the whey left over from the production of, say, a pecorino or mozzarella, to make ricotta. The whey naturally contains a slight amount of acid, which is necessary to make the cheese. Ricotta means, literally, “re-cooked,” and that’s how it’s done. For a look at one such cheesemaker read Nancy Harmon Jenkins’ profile of Massimiliano Mungilli, whose family has been making raw-milk cheese in northern Tuscany for generations.

At home, of course, most of us do not make fresh pecorino or mozzarella, so that whey will be lacking. However, you can make a cheese that is very similar to ricotta, one perfect for, among other things, a pizza topping, a breakfast dish served with fruit and honey, a sandwich spread, or a salad ingredient, not to mention cannoli, lasagna, and cheesecake. I’ve made hundreds of batches this way over the years, and it’s simple and fun and results in a great product, suitable for both savory and sweet dishes. Note: Some refer to this cheese as “riccottone,” and it does taste different from traditional ricotta, but it is delicious nonetheless.

A mythical maker of cheese.

According to most sources, ricotta has been made in Italy since the Bronze Age (3300 BC – 1200 BC). Some historians speak of ancient Egyptian influence, and it appears that Arabs in Sicily also appreciated the cheese. In the literary-myth world, once imagined we can’t forget the sight of Polyphemus’ cave splendidly stocked with cheese, milk, and wicker baskets used to strain curds:

“Soon we came to the cave, and found him absent, he was grazing his well-fed flocks in the fields. So we went inside and marvelled at its contents. There were baskets full of cheeses, and pens crowded with lambs and kids, each flock with its firstlings, later ones, and newborn separated. The pails and bowls for milking, all solidly made, were swimming with whey. At first my men begged me to take some cheeses and go, then to drive the lambs and kids from the pens down to the swift ship and set sail. But I would not listen, though it would have been best, wishing to see the giant himself, and test his hospitality. When he did appear he proved no joy to my men.”

Cheesecake Material

No matter its origins, ricotta has proved popular, versatile, and beloved. I use it to make cheesecakes, and I use it on pizza night, and it has gone into myriad other dishes I’ve made, especially as a filling for pasta. I’ve modified my method of making it over the years, and have settled on one that satisfies my guests and me every time.

How’s this for simplicity: You need a milk (not ultra-pasteurized) and an acid. That’s it. Salt is optional, though I use it often, depending on what the cheese is destined for. Start with half a gallon of whole milk. Add it to a heavy-bottomed pot and, over medium heat, raise the milk’s temperature to around 180 degrees Fahrenheit, stirring occasionally. When your milk reaches that temperature it’s time to add the acid, which can be in the form of distilled white vinegar or fresh lemon juice; the former is more neutral, while the latter can impart a touch of sweetness and/or citrus flavor. The amount for both types of acid is around 42 ml, or 2 tablespoons plus 2.5 teaspoons. Add whichever you chose and stir for 20 seconds to mix. The second curds begin forming is when you stop stirring.

Now for the important step: Don’t stir again for 20 minutes, and maintain the temperature of your creation between 175 degrees and 185 degrees. Do not panic if you stray outside of that zone by a few degrees, but do endeavor to stay within that area. My method involves turning off the heat when I hit the sweet spot, then, using an instant-read thermometer, turning it back on when the temperature nears 175 to maintain my envelope. Do this for 20 minutes and you are close to making your first batch of homemade cheese.

Next, get a slotted spoon and lift the curds from the pot of milk and place them gently into a strainer lined with cheesecloth or paper towels. Make sure to not leave any curds behind, and strain for as long as you desire. If a drier product is your goal, strain longer. I find that 15-20 minutes is a good time. Use your intuition, and keep in mind how you plan to use the batch. Click here for a video of the process.

I most often use my cheese on the same day I cook it, but you can make it in advance and keep it in an airtight container in your refrigerator; it is best consumed within two days.

Homemade Ricotta

1/2 gallon whole milk
2 tablespoons plus 2.5 teaspoons distilled white vinegar or fresh lemon juice
pinch salt (optional)

1. Bring milk to 180 degrees Fahrenheit in heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat, adding salt if using. When milk reaches 180 degrees add acid and stir for 10 seconds. Once curds form — and this happens quickly — stop stirring.

2. Do not stir again. Maintain the temperature of your cheese between 175 and 185 degrees for 20 minutes.

3. Line a strainer with cheesecloth or paper towels and transfer curds to the strainer using a slotted spoon. Drain to your desired moisture level, depending on how you intend to use your cheese. Keep for 2 days in an airtight container in the refrigerator.

Oliver Sacks and his patients: A new article delves into those illuminating and groundbreaking relationships. (Oliver Sacks Foundation)

What I’m Reading: A Southern Rhône Legend Passes, a DRC Heist, and a New Book on California Wine

December 10, 2025 / / 0 Comments

The news never stops coming, and keeping up with everything is an impossible task. Regrettably, there are too few hours in a day that one can devote to reading, and though I attempt to stay on top of as much as I can, my stacks of newspapers, magazines, and books are always beckoning (and expanding). There’s wine and food, of course, but there’s so much more, from literature and cinema to essays and profiles. Here’s a look at a few things that caught my eye this week.

Kermit Lynch is one of my favorite wine-world personalities. He’s a legend, and his classic book, Kermit Lynch’s Adventure on the Wine Route – A Wine Buyer’s Tour of France, is a must-have. His Berkeley-based wine store, Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant, founded 53 years ago, is expanding for the first time. Larkspur, California, is the lucky place. Here are the details.

DRC. Those three letters attract a lot of attention in the world of wine, including the unwanted kind, as Christian Borel, wine director at L’ Auberge Provençale, knows too well. Two miscreants made off with six bottles of wine worth around $42,000 last month after Borel gave them a tour of the cellar at his family’s restaurant. “They’re stealing Romanée-Conti!”

Emmanuel Reynaud in one of his vineyards.

We’ll long remember Emmanuel Reynaud, the man who ascended to the proprietorship of Château Rayas in 1997 upon the death of his uncle Jacques. Reynaud’s wines are southern Rhône luminaries — he was also winemaker at Château des Tours, where his career began, and at Château de Fonsalette — and fetch high prices at auction. Rest in peace, Monsieur Reynaud.

Ste. Michelle Wine Estates has been purchased by a Yakima Valley family for an undisclosed sum. The Wyckoffs now own the state’s “first premium wine company,” which was founded in 1933. A private equity firm was the previous owner of Ste. Michelle; it paid $1.2 billion to Altria Group for the asset in 2021. The Woodinville, Washingon-based property keeps chugging on.

I have fond memories of my first year in New York City, quiveringly alive with excitement and eager to immerse myself in restaurants and music and theater, which I did with abandon. It was a grand time, full of luxury and semi-squalor in equal parts. Robert Sietsema also experienced a memorable headlong affair with the city, albeit years earlier than mine. Here, his Memories of East Village restaurants, circa 1977.

Martin Parr was a great photographer. His work may not suit your sensibilities, but his artistry and eye for exquisite detail are indisputable. He died last week at 73, and man, did he care for people, in all their inglorious excesses and self-delusional foibles. An image-rich life is over.

Elaine Chukan Brown has published a new book, one I look forward to reviewing. Its title is “The Wines of California” and here is Elin McCoy’s take on it.

Oliver Sacks left behind groundbreaking work, and his life was one lived to the fullest. (Oliver Sacks Foundation)

The life and work of Oliver Sacks have long fascinated me. He was a tortured genius who abused his body and mind, a writer of grace and care whose humanity and love and demons illuminated much about the mind and spirit. Rachel Aviv has written an important article about how the doctor put his self, in all of its complexity, into his case studies.

John Updike, the man and his work, might have fallen out of favor in the literary world, but he’s still in my personal canon. He was a prolific writer, and Penguin Random House recently published “Selected Letters of John Updike,” a 912-page volume sure to please all Updike fans.

I’d be remiss if I did not close this segment of “What I’m Reading” with an appreciation of Tom Stoppard, the world-creating playwright of astounding works including “Arcadia,” “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead,” and “Leopoldstadt.” The man was physically attractive, possessed a heat-producing intellect, and made a mark on the drama world that puts him in company with the likes of Shakespeare, Beckett, Kushner, Brecht, and O’Neill. Much has been written since his death, which occurred on November 29, and I urge you to read all of the remembrances. Here, Mark Damazer gives us a place to start.

Lamb on the tasting menu at Electric Bleu.

A French/California Bistro Takes Root in Mar Vista

November 30, 2025 / / 0 Comments

The place makes me miss dining in France. Bistros in France specifically. The tables and bar, the music and laughter and (at times) chaotic activity, the service and ambiance and navigation of tight spaces. And the cuisine.

Electric Blue occupies a warm corner in Mar Vista.

I’m referring to Electric Bleu, a restaurant in Mar Vista that opened a few months ago. I’ve been there twice now, and will go again. On that third visit I would like to sit at the bar that overlooks the kitchen, or perhaps perch at the end of the bar near the wine cellar. The wine list is a good one — how about an Aligoté from Georges Lignier et Fils for $72, a Sancerre from Jean Paul Ballard for $95, a Xavier Gerard Saint-Joseph Syrah for $129, plus a small selection of sake and vermouth? — and a tightly organized by-the-glass program keeps things fresh.

Craig Hopson, the chef owner of Electric Bleu, is from Australia, and dreams of becoming a pro surfer were sustained financially by his cooking job at a restaurant in his home country. He hung up his board after discovering his true calling, and made a stop in Europe to consort with, among others, Guy Savoy, Michel Troisgros, and Alain Senderens. In New York he plied his trade at a number of restaurants, including Picholine and Le Cirque.

My first evening at Electric Bleu was a rainy one, so the outdoor patio was closed. We arrived early, around 6, and were in the company of a few other diners. That changed around 7, and the place suddenly became packed. Our small table, sandwiched between the bar and the tables along the outside wall, seemed to shrink as guests and staff maneuvered the narrow space on either side. A few tables that normally seated diners outside had been moved inside for the evening, adding to the crunch. We, however, had no complaints, and the buzz and activity added to that bistro feel.

Chanterelles, sunchokes, and hazelnuts at Electric Bleu

The food? Very memorable. Sautéed chanterelles with sunchokes, lettuce, and hazelnuts began that first meal, followed by smoked salmon on a large blini topped with trout roe and capers. A superb sausage of rabbit and bacon was my main course, and it was served over ribboned salsify, spinach, and a rabbit ragout, which was rich and warm and salty and sensual.

A large blini with smoked salmon, capers, trout roe, and dill.
A rabbit and bacon sausage with salsify and a rabbit ragout.

We closed the meal with a piece of Reblochon Reine de Dévotion.

A return to Electric Bleu on Saturday, about two weeks after the initial evening, began at that bar area near the wine cellar. We were meeting two others for dinner and ordered glasses of Aligoté and a Languedoc Blanc de Blancs. The place was already nearly full — Angelenos generally dine earlier than their NYC counterparts, in my experience — and it felt good. The staff impressed me again with their casual yet disciplined demeanor, and navigated the environs proficiently.

Hokkaido scallops, apple gelée, and mustard seeds.

Our guests arrived, we moved to a table along the wall, and the meal commenced. Two of us opted for the tasting menu ($64), a four-course affair that featured Hokkaido scallop crudo with an apple gelée and mustard seed vinaigrette to start, followed by sea bass with sweet potato, lime, and fried Brussels sprout leaves. The scallops were briny and fresh, lifted by the gelée and mustard seeds.

Sea bass and sweet potato.

The bass was cooked well, firm and moist. I wish the plating had left the skin exposed, because I love crisp fish skin, but the leaves largely gave me soggy skin. The potato chips on the plate suffered the same fate.

Lamb cooked well.

The third course, lamb, was the high point. Spinach perfectly sautéed, a citrusy gremolata-like sauce, and sliced lamb, rare on the inside, seared on the outside. Pear ice cream over poached pear ended the tasting menu in a good way. There was also pâté en croûte, and it was a fine example of that French wonder.

Pear ice cream, poached pear, and which chocolate crisps
Pâté en croûte worthy of France.

Electric Bleu has the feel of a neighborhood place, and I was told that there are already regulars. Hopson says he wants his restaurant to be a place with great food and world-class hospitality for Mar Vista and Los Angeles. It is well on its way there.

Marty Mathis and his mother, Kathryn Kennedy, in 1979. (Kathryn Kennedy Winery)

What I’m Reading: An Acre of Sylvaner, William Kennedy at 97, and a Wine Bar in Cleveland

November 21, 2025 / / 2 Comments

The news never stops coming, and keeping up with everything is an impossible task. Regrettably, there are too few hours in a day that one can devote to reading, and though I attempt to stay on top of as much as I can, my stacks of newspapers, magazines, and books are always beckoning (and expanding). There’s wine and food, of course, but there’s so much more, from literature and cinema to essays and profiles. Here’s a look at a few things that caught my eye this week.

I like Sylvaner. I first drank it years ago when I lived in Germany, and though it is not overly popular in the United States, I always try keep a few bottles on hand at home and am delighted when I find it at wine bars or restaurants. Marty Mathis, owner of Kathryn Kennedy Winery, is planting an acre of the variety on a hilltop in Santa Cruz County. He calls it “the last planting project of my life.” Esther Mobley has written a fine profile of the 67-year-old Mathis here. I look forward to tasting his Sylvaner.

Marty Mathis and his mother, Kathryn Kennedy, in 1979. (Kathryn Kennedy Winery)

We’ve all heard far too much about the woeful state of the wine industry. Health warning, the habits of younger generations, restaurant pricing … on and on it goes. According to Jeff Bitter, president of Allied Grape Growers, 2024 was not an easy one for growers. Read more here.

Haiti has long had more than its fair share of troubles, and a dinner that took place last month in Manhattan at The Bazaar did its part to help some people in that beleaguered country. Grapes for Humanity teamed with José Andrés and a number of wine-world luminaries to raise money for Hôpital Albert Schweitzer Haiti, which is the only remaining hospital in a region of 850,000 citizens. Wine to the rescue.

Kash Patel, the director of the FBI, is on a crusade to avenge a slight he received from a judge in Houston. He’s also the man carrying out Donald Trump’s scorched-earth campaign to fire everyone who ever attempted to hold the president accountable. Reading this made me ill.

Eric Texier, a vigneron based in Northern Rhône, is on a mission he calls “a post-modern, global warming compatible dream,” and we might be able to taste the fruit of his efforts in four or five years. He’s attempting to propagate four forgotten grape varieties — Exbrayat, Pougnet, Ribier Gris, and Bourrisquou — from specimens in the Conservatoire de Vassal, a repository based in France. The past, he hopes, is never truly dead.

La Cave du Vin is part of the Cleveland wine scene. (La Cave du Vin)

Headed to Cleveland? If so, here’s a good read about the city’s food and wine scene. La Cave du Vin is on my list of places to visit.

Long ago on a winter morning I was on a train bound for New Haven, “The Stories of John Cheever” in my hands. It was snowing outside and I was lost in Cheever’s imagination. When I looked up I saw a woman sitting in the seat across the aisle. It was Susan Cheever, the author’s daughter. We chatted for a bit, and then went back to our books. Fathers and daughters share a special bond.

William Kennedy as a young reporter in the 1950s, top, and with New York State Senator Pat Fahy this month at ADCo Bar & Bottle Shop in Albany. (Paul Grondahl / NYS Writers Institute)

William Kennedy, The Bard of Albany, will turn 98 on Jan. 16. But as seen, really seen, in this profile by Dan Barry, he is still the talk of the town. This piece is beautiful.

Considering moving to Portugal? You are not alone. Here’s the tale of one woman who did so. She has no regrets.

A Moving — and Humorous — Book Awards Ceremony

November 20, 2025 / / 0 Comments

The National Book Awards, 76th Edition, were bestowed last night during a ceremony in Manhattan held at Cipriani Wall Street. I watched it live on YouTube while I was cooking, and it was time well spent.

Jeff Hiller was the host, and his brand of humor was on full display; he’s a tad self-effacing and a lot of goofiness (if you have not watched “Somebody Somewhere” you are missing out). He’s also an author, and relayed a hilarious story about a typo on the cover of his book — and he was not the only speaker to give a call-out to copyeditors during the evening, a touch I appreciated.

Jeff Hiller is a funny guy. (Courtesy National Book Foundation)

The acceptance speeches of the awardees — including George Saunders’ (medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters) and Roxane Gay’s (Literarian Award for Outstanding Service to the American Literary Community) — were moving, and timely. The arts are vital, especially in periods when unrest and division are acutely extreme.

Here is the list of awardees:

Young People’s Literature: “The Teacher of Nomad Land: A World War II Story,” by Daniel Nayeri (Levine Querido)

Translated Literature: “We Are Green and Trembling,” by Gabriela Cabezón Cámara, translated from the Spanish by Robin Myers (New Directions Publishing)

Poetry: “The Intentions of Thunder: New and Selected Poems,” by Patricia Smith (Scribner / Simon & Schuster) (I dare you to watch her acceptance address and not cry.)

Nonfiction: “One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This,” by Omar El Akkad (Knopf / Penguin Random House)

Fiction: “The True True Story of Raja the Gullible (and His Mother),” by Rabih Alameddine (Grove Press / Grove Atlantic)

You can watch all of the moments here.

Watching this is worth your time.
Joan Didion was an accomplished cook. (Henry Clarke/Condé Nast/Shutterstock)

Turkey and Wine: Here Are Your Pairings

November 18, 2025 / / 2 Comments

Thanksgiving is the food holiday, at least in my family’s culinary tradition. My maternal grandmother made the best stuffing I’ve ever tasted, and while her Christmas fruitcakes and mincemeat pies are the stuff of legend, we always privileged Thanksgiving when it came to family holiday feasts.

I was not drinking wine as a child at those gatherings at my grandparents’ house in Savannah, but now I can’t imagine sitting down at the table on the last Thursday of November unless a few bottles are in the mix, wines selected for an occasion that likely features turkey, cranberries made your way (I like mine a bit spicy), potatoes or squash, perhaps sautéed green beans … you fill in the blank, of course, depending on your traditions. I have made shrimp as an appetizer for Thanksgiving, and last year at a Friendsgiving meal my contribution was a green chile pork stew.

Choosing the right wines to serve with your Thanksgiving feast is not rocket science. (Circe Denyer)

So, based on general American habits concerning Thanksgiving foods, and with some flexibility added for regional or familial variations, which wines should be on your menu come November? 

Word to the wise: Champagne or other sparkling wines are a must, and I will accept no debate here. You cannot go wrong selecting several bottles from this diverse category. Offer guests a glass of cava as they cross your threshold, and consider serving gougères with that Spanish treasure (I like this recipe from David Lebovitz). For the table, and if you are serving turkey, feel free to indulge your Champagne obsession and knowledge. Pair the main course with a vintage brut, and with your desserts (pumpkin pie, pecan pie, a sweet casserole) serve a demi-sec. You can also opt for a Sauternes or a Trockenbeerenauslese with your sweet dishes.

Cava is a Spanish treasure, and it’s a great addition to the Thanksgiving table. (Marcelo Verfe)

Unless you are going extremely non-traditional and plan to serve steak, avoid Cabernet Sauvignon and anything blended with that grape (and anything with robust tannins). Turkey, mashed potatoes, and your squash casserole will hate sharing the stage with with those otherwise fine wines. I’m sure you drink a lot of big Napa reds on a regular basis, so missing one day won’t damage your psyche. If you must open a bottle of your favorite big red, it would be advisable to make it something with age; softer tannins are a better fit with the lower fat level of turkey.

Chardonnay is a common refrain around this time of year, and chablis definitely has a place on your menu. Fruity and crisp, plus graced with wonderful acidity, these wines will pair well with your turkey. If you want something with a bit more oak, feel free to go that way. Better yet, serve both types and provide your guests’ palates with a chance to compare and contrast.

Two Perennial Wines
I’ll now proffer two names that have featured at my Thanksgiving table for years and years. I’m referring to Pinot Noir and Beaujolais. The tannins generally found in a good Pinot are of the softer variety, and a medium body will suit your turkey well. Cherry and mushroom notes, plus vibrant acidity, are magic at Thanksgiving. You can’t go wrong with something from Burgundy, and Oregon is another stellar source. 

Beaujolais is an easy and popular choice for Thanksgiving, and gamay’s mid-level alcohol and superb fruit profile combine to great effect at the holiday table. I served a Morgon at my inaugural Thanksgiving gathering, a decision that began my love affair with this wine.

I’ll add here — and this applies to all of your wine selections for the holiday — that it’s a good idea to sample every wine you plan to serve before you make your final decisions. Consider your palate, and the palates of your guests, as well as your particular menu, especially if your food lineup wanders off from the traditional.

Riesling is a wine that gets along well with Thanksgiving.

And now to Riesling, my liebling grape. I love to make a savory gravy from the drippings of my turkey, and the high acidity of this grape makes my mouth water, literally when eating it and when I merely think of this combination. I am also a dark meat guy, and, again, that acidity cuts through the fat and richness of a turkey leg and stuffing made from the gizzards, heart, and liver. Buy a few dry and off-fry versions of Riesling and sample them, based on your menu.

The Guests are the Stars
No matter what you serve with your Thanksgiving feast, don’t stress. I’ve given you some tried-and-true options, but do not feel hemmed in by my guide, except for that Cabernet Sauvignon advice. In addition, there’s no need to be a wine snob on this special Thursday. Sure, you might want to impress your guests with your taste and knowledge, but the wines aren’t the star here, and neither are you. Your grandmother might prefer a Chardonnay rich with oak, or uncle Joe’s love could be White Zinfandel. What better way to show them you care than putting “their” bottles at their places at the table for their sole consumption, a gesture that need not interfere with the rest of your wines? 

A meal in Malibu: Joan Didion, her daughter, Quintana Roo, and husband, John Gregory Dunne. (Henry Clarke/Condé Nast/Shutterstock)

To close, I urge you to read this piece, which was published today in The New York Times; it is a beautiful story about Joan Didion’s love for Thanksgiving dinner. The author, who passed away in 2021, was a thoughtful cook, and she planned meticulous holiday dinners. From Patrick Farrell’s article: “It has always seemed like such an awful holiday,” a friend wrote her after one dinner, “but you made it something quite wonderful.”

Leave a comment and let me know what you’ll be pouring on Thanksgiving.

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