Wine, Food, and Other Vital Things

Tag: Charlie Trotter

Canlis’ First Female Wine Director Moves With Intent

I love to talk about wine with people who share my passion for it. We open bottles, we trade stories about travel and soil types, terroir and residual sugar, and we talk of taste and food and restaurants. We recommend wines to one another, we drink, and we learn a lot.

In Wine Talk, I introduce you to friends, acquaintances, and people I encounter as I make my way around the world, individuals who love wine as much as I do, who live to taste, who farm and make wine. Whether my subject is a sommelier, a collector, a winemaker, a chef, a buyer, or an avid drinker of wine, you’ll appreciate their insight, and I hope you’ll learn something from them as well. 

Dining at Canlis had been on my agenda for a good number of years. I was in Seattle for a week or so back in 2010, part of an itinerary I had devised that included reuniting with friends residing on the West Coast (Portland and Seattle) and a visit with family in Florida.

I was living in Dubai at the time, working at a newspaper, and the trip was much needed. I wanted to get a table at Canlis during my trip, but part of my reason for being in Seattle was a reunion with some friends from my German high school, a gathering that featured a number of events and meals that took up most of my time. Canlis had to wait.

The welcoming and elegant entrance to Canlis. (Photo Courtesy Canlis)

Last year, I made it, finally. We flew up to Seattle, en route to Bremerton, where we would be staying with friends, former colleagues of mine with whom I worked at a newspaper in Westchester County, N.Y. Before taking a ferry over to Kitsap County we spent the evening at Canlis, a reservation for four secured with the help of Aisha Ibrahim, who was hired in 2021 as the restaurant’s first female chef – it’s had seven chefs, including Ibrahim, since it served its first dish 75 years ago. (Ibrahim, who helmed Canlis’ kitchen for nearly four years, has left the restaurant, along with her sous chef and life partner, Samantha Beaird; the pair plan to open their own place in either Los Angeles or New York. In other recent Canlis news, Brian Canlis is also parting ways with his family’s restaurant; he has accepted a role in Nashville with Will Guidara. His brother, Mark Canlis, remains at the establishment.)

A view into the main dining room at Canlis. (Photo by Kevin Scott/Canlis)

The meal was outstanding, as were the service and the ambiance. If you know anything about Canlis, you’ll be aware that it is an architectural star, and from the moment one glimpses the distinctive exterior of the restaurant the building itself becomes a vital component of one’s experience.

A quartet of dishes begins a meal at Canlis. (Photo by James Brock)

But the food and design at Canlis are not the foci of this piece. The star of this Wine Talk is Linda Milagros Violago, who happens to be the first female director of the restaurant’s vaunted wine program.

Fish done well at Canlis. (Photo by James Brock)

Violago was born in Winnipeg, and refers to herself as “a first-generation Filipina/Canadian and citizen of the world.” She’s worked – for more than 35 years – in restaurants in 13 countries, including at Michelin-starred luminaries in Europe (such as Mugaritz in Spain and In De Wulf in Belgium) and fine- and casual-dining places in North America, Charlie Trotter’s among them. She even, during the Covid pandemic, scooped and served ice cream at a shop in her Canadian hometown. She’s well traveled, and adaptable, to say the least.

Linda Milagros Violago sits at the piano in Canlis. (Photo by Amber Fouts)

Violago has also worked four harvests, and she’s brewed sake in Japan. When she’s not on the floor or in the cellar at Canlis, she’s traveling, practicing yoga – she teaches yoga and breathing to her colleagues – and spreading the word about the importance of intentional movement, which she credits with helping her “get through life and service” at her places of work.

Violago is thoughtful, careful with her words, and genuinely loves what she does. Let’s see what she has to say in Wine Talk.

James Brock: Tell us about three wines you think are drinking well at the moment. What makes them worthwhile? How about a food pairing for each one?

Linda Milagros Violago: In no particular order:

The 2022 Domaine du Gringet Etraz. I have always loved Dominique Belluard’s wines, and this new project that has arisen after his death is sure to just grow and evolve in a beautiful way. This wine, though young, is just so special and unique. It’s also so drinkable now, but will definitely age well. I like this with one of our courses that has aged and smoked salmon served with silken tofu and crispy cabbage.

Domaine du Gringet: Continuing the legacy of Dominique Belluard.

Next, the 1996 Domaine de Montille Pommard Les Rugiens 1er Cru. I am not being cheeky. After a long conversation with a guest who wanted to splash out on wine and trying something with age, I served this bottle, and it did not disappoint. It was still so youthful and powerful, but elegant, too. I love old Nebbiolo, but I also really love old Burgundy, and wines from this generation (or earlier) just evolve in a really fun and satisfying way throughout the meal.

A Burgundian jewel.

Finally, anything from Bérêche & Fils. People who know me know that I love to support the small growers in Champagne. The brut reserve from Bérêche & Fils is just so easy to drink and yet so pleasing and complex. We just recently poured it by the glass at Canlis and the initial response was always, “Yes, that’s perfect,” and then a few sips later, “Wow, this is really great!” Great for apéro, great with our truffle fries, great with our whole menu.

JB: How did Covid-19 change your life, personally and professionally?

LMV: I want to invest more time and energy in things that promote growth – both for myself and others. I want to do something every day that brings me joy – reading, moving, listening to the birds … something that fills my cup and restores me. Professionally, I’ve changed how I talk about wine – to peers, to students, to guests. More than ever we need to make our discussions like real conversations, and not just us at the table talking to guests. We want them to feel good about what they chose and feel free to ask questions and describe in their own words what they want.

JB: If cost was no consideration, tell us the one bottle you would add to your personal collection, and why.

LMV: That’s tough! A guest recently asked me if I were sitting down and had no budget, what would I drink? There are many options, and I do not regret serving him the 1996 Château Rayas.

JB: What is your favorite grape, and why? If you don’t have a single favorite, tell me about one that you are especially passionate about.

LMV: I have a few favourites, but old Nebbiolo makes me giddy and old Burgundy (red or white) brings me joy.

JB: How about one bottle that our readers should buy now to cellar for 10 years, to celebrate a birth, anniversary, or other red-letter day? 

Cayuse Widowmaker – yes, a wine that isn’t any of the grape varieties that I mentioned!

JB: Where is your go-to place when you want to have a glass or bottle (outside your home and workplace)? 

LMV: Le Caviste.

JB: If there was one thing you wish everyone would keep in mind when buying and drinking wine, what is it? 

LMV: Don’t be afraid to try something different, don’t be afraid to zero in on what you like and don’t like, and learning how to express that is as important as learning how to express it when you’re shopping for anything else. 

JB: What is your “wine eureka moment,” the incident/taste/encounter that put you and wine on an intimate plane forever?  

LMV: The wine that got me into wine as a very simple Alsatian Gewürztraminer from the early ’90s. It was then that I was able to first grasp at the different layers of wine.

Linda Milagros Violago is making history at Canlis. (Jeremy P. Beasley/Canlis)

JB: What has been the strangest moment/incident involving wine that you have experienced in your career? 

LMV: This was a strange interaction with guests. There was an older couple dining with two young women. One of them was the couple’s daughter and I am not sure about the relationship with the other young woman (she stayed quiet). The older couple were quite the characters. The man wanted to talk options, the woman – who was celebrating her birthday – stated, “I want red wine!” It was all very convivial and fun. They had a round of cocktails to start and I was looking forward to the conversation with them. The man turned to his daughter and asked if she was joining in the wine, and she refused, saying she “didn’t want to lose any brain cells.”

I’m in my 50s, I would guess that her parents were about my age, so we looked at each other and laughed and somehow got into a conversation of what we do to keep sharp: brain games, etc. And I talked about neuroplasticity. The daughter just refused, again, repeating that she didn’t want to lose any brain cells. But, she did want some sparkling wine. I mentioned our options of wines by the glass, but somehow that wasn’t what she wanted (she wanted bubbles, but didn’t want to order a glass, didn’t want to lose brain cells, and, honestly, it wasn’t clear what she did want.) Eventually, we found a bottle of wine for the parents to drink. The daughter did keep complaining about not having sparkling wine but wouldn’t order a glass. This happened just last year.

JB: Your favorite wine reference in a work of literature?

LMV: Rumi: “Gratitude is the wine for the soul. Go on. Get drunk.”

Less esoteric: Shakespeare, from “As You Like It”: “I pray you, do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.”

Daniel Maclise (1806–1870), The Wrestling Scene in ‘As You Like It’ (1854), oil on canvas, 129 x 177.1 cm, location not known. (Wikimedia Commons)

Last Night I Dreamed About Charlie Trotter — Then the Morning Became Odder

I have phases during which I vividly recall my dreams, and I’m in one now. I wake up, and the images and action and scenes and dialog seem burned into my synapses. I retell the “stories” to myself and write them down in a notebook, and I also, from time to time, think I figure out why I dreamed what I did. Just as often, I cannot fathom the reason for the dreams, and simply enjoy the mise-en-scène. I am doing that as I write this, and Charlie Trotter is on my mind.

You see, last night I dreamed a Chicago dream, and Charlie Trotter and I hung out and ate and drank together, and we walked up and down sidewalks and streets and ended up at his townhome, late in the evening. We sat in his kitchen — as I imagined it … I never set foot in Trotter’s kitchen, or his home for that matter — and the hours passed and the conversation flowed. We cooked breakfast as the sun rose.

What did we talk about? I can remember France, and a trip down a canal on a barge, a pet Trotter had as a child, his father’s car, and the wallpaper of a hotel room in Paris. Earlier in the dream — it was winter, a Chicago winter — the steam coming from our mouths and nostrils as we stood under a streetlight and talked seemed especially visceral, though I have not the faintest idea why. Also, the condensation on his eyeglasses sticks in my mind.

The overall feeling of the dream is comfort, despite Trotter’s infamous personality. We apparently were friends, as we discussed trips we had been on together, wines we had shared. It was, as opposed to many dreams I have, unencumbered by the slightest sense of anxiety or angst or conflict. It left me feeling warm and part of a network of grace and kindness.

In 2009, I met Charlie Trotter in Abu Dhabi at a dinner he prepared.

Why, or how, did the morning become odder, odder than the dream itself? Because, in what seems a Jungian shadow-happening, the first email message I clicked on this morning while giving a few minutes to the ongoing process of clearing out my inbox included two photos of Charlie Trotter and me, taken in 2009 in Abu Dhabi. I decided to delete emails with the .ae suffix, and the message containing those images — which I had forgotten about — was the first one on the resultant search list. I opened it, unaware of the attached photos, and sat and pondered.

I’m not sure why it happened, and I don’t have a lot of time right now to figure it out. Nor do I know why I dreamed about Trotter and hanging out with him in Chicago. Perhaps reading about the closing of Grace was the impetus? Who knows … Dreams are mysterious, their meanings can be evasive and perplexing. I’ll figure this one out, eventually. Until then, I’ll relish those feelings of grace and warmth, and the sensual experiences of cooking, drinking, and eating with the departed chef.

The Brockhaus Montrose Homecoming Served It Forth

The lobsters had been prepped, the dessert (ginger ice cream and Edna Lewis’s Very Good Chocolate Cake) was ready, and Chris and I were discussing plating. It was Saturday, November 12, and The Brockhaus was making another appearance in Montrose, cooking in the house where its Houston chapter began, back in September 2014. At 3 p.m., and all was well. It turned out to be a homecoming worth savoring.

The Brockhaus

The guests would arrive at 7, and we’d serve them some Champagne and a chance to chat before dinner. (Judy and Russ and hosts Jared and Caroline were Brockhaus veterans, but the other attendees were new to us, and one another.) The porch overlooking the pool was the perfect spot for mingling.

The Brockhaus

Norma and Gary and Melanie — our team for the evening, from The Culinary Institute LeNôtre — were on the way. (Their work was instrumental to the evening; a kitchen is only as good as its team … there’s no room for deadwood, something that was drilled into me at Amador and Arzak.) Chris and I went over the schedule one final time, divided the tasks, and continued prepping, I taking care of the crab cakes, Chris dealing with the Billi Bi components. Angela entered the scene and began her planning.

The hours — as they always do — flew by, and the evening progressed. The guests talked and drank, the kitchen ran smoothly, and the plating and service hummed. The conversation emanating from the table flowed, the wines (selected by Jeremy Hart, of Banville Wine Merchants) pleased. All was as it should be in that bungalow in Montrose. The courses went out on time — the lobster and ribeye were highlights — and 11:30 arrived without a hitch. Quail, crab cakes, tuna, ginger ice cream … we thank our guests and partners, including Chantal, whose products we love to use.

Until next time, here are some images of The Brockhaus Montrose Homecoming (November 12, 2016):

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The Brockhaus Returns to its (Houston) Beginnings: November 12 Marks a Montrose Homecoming

It’s a house in the Montrose section of Houston, the home of dear friends. It’s a lovely place, with a pool and lots of art. And it was the venue for The Brockhaus’s premiere evening, back in September of 2014. Eight guests, engaging and stimulating conversation, lots of laughter, and, of course, food and wine. We attracted a bit of attention, made some new friends, and went on to stage dinners on Nantucket, in the Galleria area, in the Heights of Houston, near Dallas, and, back in Houston, in Memorial (evenings in two homes there). May 7 was the date of the most recent event, and 10 guests gathered around the table then. There were truffles and lobster and, again, some great wines.

The First Supper menu

The First Supper menu

That house in Montrose kept calling to me, and now it’s time for a return engagement. On November 12, The Brockhaus will cook again at the bungalow, in what will be a homecoming of sorts, a homecoming and an evening in honor of late chefs and cooks who have inspired us. We’ll remember Charlie Trotter and Fernand Point, Julia Child and Edna Lewis, plus Craig Claiborne and Michel Richard. Their lives and passions, and their approach to food. This is an homage, a celebration, not a re-creation. The menu was inspired by these greats, and it’s a progression of courses that we are certain would please them all.

Snapper

Snapper, zucchini agrodolce

Without further ado, the menu (and as always, there will be surprises):

THE BROCKHAUS HOMECOMING
November 12, 2016

1.
Billi Bi
Craig Claiborne

San Salvatore “Pian di Stio” Campania 2015 (Fiano) — Special bottling of Fiano in a 500-ml bottle, back-to-back Tre Bicchieri from Gambero Rosso.  Imagine a crisp mineral-driven white with the secondary notes of young Sherry.

2.
Butter-Poached Lobster 
Charlie Trotter

Terlano “Nova Domus” Alto-Adige 2008 Magnum (60 percent Pinot Bianco, 30 percent Chardonnay, 10 percent Sauvignon) — The winery has produced this stellar blend since 1893. It’s a  wine built to age.  .

3.
Corn Nugget Crab Cakes
Michel Richard

Michele Satta Viognier Bolgheri 2013 — A Tuscan from the man who planted some of the most famous vineyards in the world.  An incredible  Viognier with broad appeal.

4.
Quail in Champagne
Fernand Point

Pietro Cassina “Ca’ daj Tàss” Coste delle Sesia DOC 2011 — Super-soft style of Nebbiolo from Lessona in northwest Piedmont.

5.
Wagyu Ribeye with Chimichurri
Julia Child

Donatella Cinelli Colombini Casato “Prime Donne” Brunello di  Montalcino 2010 ~ First-all female winery in Italy, a silky/complex style of Brunello; the winery is in (far) north Montalcino. Special blend assembled by five women hailing from four different countries. The 2010 is considered the best one ever (so far).

6.
Very Good Chocolate Cake
Edna Lewis

Tolaini “Valdisanti”  2011 (75 percent Cabernet Sauvignon, 20 percent Sangiovese 5 percent  Cabernet Franc) — Michel Rolland and Diego Bonato made this Super Tuscan in a specific part of Chianti Classico famous for producing powerful reds.

The Brockhaus is pleased to be partnering with Jeremy W. Hart,  regional manager for Banville Wine Merchants.  I have enjoyed talking with Jeremy about wines, and know you will, too. He’s based in Houston, and covers Texas, Louisiana, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Colorado, and recently announced a wine-and-dining tour that will take place in several cities. Live and Let Dine will feature dinners at Commander’s Palace, Italic, Galatoire’s, Hunky Dory, June’s, and many more.  Go to liveandletdinetour.com for further information. The Brockhaus is looking forward to experiencing Live and Let Dine.

$145 per person/wine pairing with each course/mirth/new friends

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So Long, Can Fabes

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A new year brings with it an ending, or even endings. We look forward to the days and nights that stretch before us, but we also, if we are so predisposed, think about what we are leaving behind, be they people, places or things.

During this first week of 2014 I am doing my fair share of wondering about what lies ahead, making plans, writing down goals and intentions.

And I’m thinking of people and places that are no more, especially these three: Marcella Hazan, Charlie Trotter, and El Racó de Can Fabes. Each made an impression on my life, and made me a better cook.

I never met Ms. Hazan, but she did comment on several Facebook posts of mine, asking questions and giving her opinions in a straightforward and probing manner. I did meet Trotter, when he cooked at a dinner in Abu Dhabi that I attended. Two monumental individuals, Hazan and Trotter. They influenced more people than they would ever know, and made my life richer. Our world is poorer without them.

El Racó de Can Fabes, a fabled restaurant, closed its doors forever in 2013. One day in September 2012 I was in a rental car, having left Barcelona headed to France. It was nearing lunchtime and I spotted a road sign indicating an exit for Sant Celoni. Sant Celoni … The name meant something to me, but I could not place it. I slowed the car, my brain all the while attempting to make the connection. It did about two minutes later: Sant Celoni is the village that is home (was home) to Can Fabes. I exited the highway, then pulled over and keyed the words into my GPS. About 15 minutes later I was parked near the restaurant; it was around 12:30, and I walked to the entrance, hoping that they would seat me without a reservation. They did, and that afternoon has been with me constantly since. (See photo slideshow above.)

You might be aware that the building that housed Can Fabes belonged to the Santamaria family for more than 200 years. You might also know that it had operated as a restaurant for 32 years and earned its first Michelin star  in 1988, seven years after Santi Santimaria opened it as a casual bistro. It was awarded a third Michelin star in 1994. Then, as it sometimes will, life dealt a cruel hand. Santimaria died of a heart attack while at his restaurant in Singapore; he was 53.

Regina Santimaria, his daughter, took over, and made a valiant effort to keep Can Fabes open. Losing a man as original and vibrant as Santimaria, however, is, in my opinion, a fatal blow. The restaurant lost one of its Michelin stars, the global economy fell apart, and things were grim in Sant Celoni.

Today I leafed through an online catalogue for an auction of Can Fabe possessions that took place in December 2013. It included plates and glasses and cutlery and pots and pans. But what one could not bid on, the item that created the magic that was Can Fabes, was Santi Santimaria’s soul, and it was nowhere in that catalogue. It was, however, in the meal I had in Sant Celoni that day, and it will be in me forever.

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