I am in Jupiter, Florida, near Palm Beach, visiting my parents and my sister and her family. I’m cooking a lot — this morning I made some cornbread, and a pot of pinto beans is simmering on the stove. Those two items, with a glass of buttermilk and perhaps a tomato slice on the side, make up one of my father’s favorite meals, something he’s been eating since his childhood. I’ve always had an appetite for fermented food — sauerkraut, kimchi, kefir, and buttermilk included — and imagine that it was passed down to me from my father’s ancestors.
On a recent evening, Angela and I made a reservation at Stage Kitchen, a restaurant whose chef, Pushkar Marathe, is from India. Nagpur, to be exact, which is in the state of Maharashtra. He attended culinary school in Switzerland, and worked under Dean Max, as well as in restaurants in the Middle East, the Caribbean, and the United States.
We are here to help my family navigate a stage of life that often comes with growing older, one that involves moving my father into a care facility and assisting my mother as she prepares for hip replacement. The only constant is change, and that is a verity made very real when a parent begin showing signs of cognitive dysfunction. So I am cooking for my parents and carrying out other errands and chores.
The way I see stage is like it’s a big tree. The branches are my travels all over the world, but the roots are deep in Inda
Pushkar Marathe
When I am not cooking, I make a reservation at a restaurant, to get a sense of the area’s food. A friend had mentioned Stage when I asked her about places to try in the Palm Beach region, and I trust her palate, so we added it to the list.
Pushkar Marathe, second from right, and his business partner and general manager, Andy Dugard. (Courtesy Stage)
“Fusion” is not a word I use freely, and I was glad to see that Marathe has no use for it either on the restaurant’s website. Instead, he speaks of travel and diverse experiences and global culinary traditions. I never fail to sense when food I’m eating was made by someone possessing a broad and open palate and mind. It’s more alive, honest. It carries no hint of trendiness. This is Marathe’s food at Stage.
Naan done Pushkar Marathe’s way
He serves a naan filled with spicy cheese, and while it is unlike most naan I have eaten, it is a bread I would order every time I dine at Stage. Crisp exterior (two naans, one placed over the other), dense interior filled with a peppery cheese whose piquancy lasts. Marathe’s naan is served fresh from the tandoor, and you’ll see that it is not dissimilar to a grilled cheese sandwich. But it’s much better than the average grilled cheese. (We took some home with us, and it was just as good reheated at lunch. No stale fat or butter taste, nothing but satisfaction.) Marathe also makes garlic naan and a black truffle naan.
The garlic naan at Stage (Courtesy Stage)
We began with oysters, a half dozen Malpeques, from Prince Edward Island, served with turmeric and a truffle-yuzu mignonette. Our selections had the characteristic combination of brininess and sweetness that rewards one when Malpeques are on the table, and the mignonette was tangy and rich, with a touch of spice. The 2019 Butterfield Station Chardonnay from Sebastiani Vineyards we were drinking was good with the shellfish.
Oysters on the half shell (Courtesy stage)
The restaurant, which opened in 2019 and was then forced to close by COVID-19, is located in a mixed-use development off of a busy street in Palm Beach Gardens, a community between Jupiter and West Palm Beach. Its open kitchen is a focal point, as is the bar, situated at the right rear of the spacious interior. A long, high communal table that seats 16 or so diners is directly in front of the pass, and behind that table, toward the front of the interior, is a wall of tables that also offer primes seats for all the cooking action. Booths and outdoor seating are in the mix at the large restaurant, which was mostly full on the evening we were there.
Color, texture, and well-designed seating: Stage has that. (Courtesy Stage)
Masala Dosa. You know what that is. Marathe’s version would not surprise anyone, at least not in a bad way. It looks good, crispy and shiny — though my dining companion did say that it had been slightly overcooked and was dry in some spots, a verdict with which I agreed after several bites of it — and it was filled with potatoes, peas, and cauliflower, all cooked well, neither too soft nor too hard. A creamy, piquant tomato sauce, specked with fried cumin and mustard seeds, rounded out the dish.
Marathe’s Masala Dosa is not far from the traditional. (Courtesy Stage)
Angela wanted to try the White Truffle Mushroom Karanji, and that was the next item to come to the table. A karanji (also known as gujia, gujiya, pedakiya, and gughara) is a sweet deep-fried dumpling made with either semolina or all-purpose flour and filled with milk solids and dried fruit. It’s fried in ghee. Marathe’s version eschews sweetness and goes for savory, with mushrooms and truffle. The sauce is thin enough to run slowly when you cut into the crisp empanada-like shell, but thick enough to hold all of the ingredients together, meaning each bite of the dish is equally satisfying.
Umami-rich: Savory and imminently shareable, Stage’s truffle and mushroom karanji is a fun twist on the traditional Indian dessert. (Courtesy Stage)
Lamb is one of my favorite proteins, and the kebab at Stage is definitely one for lovers of the meat. The mixture Marathe uses is light and tender in the mouth, and the masala combination sings. At one minute cumin leads, then ginger, followed by coriander. I love ground lamb prepared in this manner, and Marathe’s is one of the best I’ve had this year. The pickled red onion and mint cilantro chutney served with the dish complete it well.
Lamb kebab done with a deft and assured touch. (Courtesy Stage)
When deciding what to order next, Angela and I knew we wanted to share something, and narrowed the choices to peri peri chicken and local grouper. The chicken won out, mainly because shrimp and mussels had featured in some of our recent home-cooked meals.
Peri Peri sauce is a good way to go with chicken, and this rendition left nothing undone. The skin of the bird (half a chicken) was blackened well by the flames, and the meat, both dark and white, was moist and full of smoke and peri peri flavor. Patatas Bravas and a mixture of scallions, cashews, and black sesame seeds nestled alongside the main course.
Peri Peri Chicken, with color and verve. (Courtesy Stage)
We arrived at Stage at 6:30 that evening, and an hour or so later the place was completely full, and lively. Some might find it noisy — high ceilings can wreak sonic havoc — but the flavors of the food should pull your senses away from the sounds.
Dessert was all that remained, and it was Garam Masala Cheesecake. I wanted more spice, but the peach compote was a revelation. Bracing, acutely acidic, and intriguingly approaching sweet, our final course, while making us remember Thanksgivings past, was a fine close to the evening.
The wine list at Stage is small, but includes a few solid bottles, such as Son of a Butcher, from Y. Rousseau, and Diatom, from Brewer-Clifton. Corkage is $25.
Marathe has plans to open a traditional Indian restaurant in the area, and based on the flavors he’s creating at Stage, it should be embraced by the area’s diners. Until then, they’ll have to settle for his current body of work.
Ilove 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 meet 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. You’ll appreciate their insight, and I hope you’ll learn something from them as well.
The tasting was scheduled for 10 in the morning, on a Saturday, so the drive to Los Olivos from Los Angeles began a little after 7. At that time of the day traffic is usually light — weekend bonus — and the journey was relaxed and pleasurable. I never tire of driving along the Pacific, seeing the sun rise from the waves and the rolling hills glide by.
I was headed north to meet with Greg Brewer, of Brewer-Clifton, diatom, and Ex Post Facto, at his label’s tasting room in Los Olivos. I was familiar with his Brewer-Clifton wines, and appreciated their purity, but had never sampled diatom or Ex Post Facto, so was looking forward to the encounter.
Brewer, who was named Winemaker of the Year in 2020 by Wine Enthusiast magazine (one of the categories in the publication’s Wine Star Awards), is a product of the Sta. Rita Hills AVA. When one discusses wine with him, the soils and vineyards and geography of the appellation come to life, and tasting with the Los Angeles-born former French instructor (UC Santa Barbara) is a sensuous and intellectual tour of the region.
“The winemaker of the year award is much more about the Sta. Rita Hills than it is about me,” he told my tasting companion and me as we tasted the 2018 Brewer-Clifton Chardonnay. “The people here, the land and the environment, those are the stars.”
The Sta. Rita Hills AVA is the source of some lively, vibrant Chardonnay.
Brewer founded Brewer-Clifton with Steve Clifton in 1996, and diatom, focused on “starkly raised” Chardonnay, was born in 2005. Ex Post Facto, dedicated to cold-climate Syrah, followed in 2016. In addition, beginning in 1999 and continuing through the 2015 harvest, Brewer co-founded and served as winemaker at Melville Winery.
Brewer, whose labels became part of Jackson Family Wines in 2017, began his career in wine at Santa Barbara Winery, in 1991. He worked in the tasting room, and soon discovered a passion for production, a passion that continues today.
Greg Brewer and James Brock post-tasting in the Brewer-Clifton tasting room, located in Los Olivos, California. (Photo by The Brockhaus)
Conversing with Brewer was a refreshing experience, one that took me back to my Eastern philosophy classes and seminars. Ego; the self; humility; chop wood, carry water; process; the razor’s edge: those words and phrases came to mind on that Saturday morning as we talked about the appellation and its attributes and Brewer’s approach to winemaking (and life). He’s someone I would gladly sit with over a three-hour meal.
A Chardonnay of intense purity.
In addition to the Sta. Rita Hills Chardonnay, the tasting lineup included the 2017 Sta. Rita Hills Pinot Noir, the 2016 diatom Machado, the 2017 Machado Pinot Noir, the 2018 Ex Post Facto Syrah, and the 2009 Brewer-Clifton Mount Carmel Chardonnay. All show sense of place in a remarkable manner, and demonstrate Brewer’s method, which, though highly personal, has been honed to ensure integrity and longevity no matter what life brings.
“I could be hit by a bus, and our wines would live on,” Brewer told me, referring to the way he has trained others on his team to make these wines.
Here’s Brewer in Wine Talk:
James Brock: How has COVID-19 changed your work and life?
Greg Brewer: The pandemic has, as with many, caused me to become quite nostalgic and increasingly sentimental. I have embraced this opportunity to reignite direct correspondence with our community as a means of intimate connection during times of quarantine and lack of social interaction. While I hope that the outreach from me has been welcomed by them to remain engaged, I have also benefited greatly, as the exercise has been very nourishing and restorative for me.
While initially resistant to virtual events, I quickly dove into that platform, which proved to be very rewarding. My initial hesitancy was rooted in a fear of not connecting as well as in person, yet I quickly realized it was far from inferior and simply different. There can be tremendous intimacy and comfort when interacting in this manner, particularly when all participants are as focused and vulnerable as possible.
As I find ultimate identity through my work, there is really no differentiation for me on any level between personal and professional. For the mere attempt to segregate the two would lessen my core devotion to the craft and industry.
“Gentle hands and pure intent … “
JB: 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?
GB: Everything is appropriate, worthwhile and timely. I gravitate towards wines raised by gentle hands and pure intent, and am particularly inspired when one has the confidence to explore an aesthetic which is singular and relevant. Brander Au Naturel Sauvignon Blanc and Captûre Tradition Sauvignon Blancare excellent examples of that ethos for different reasons. Larmandier-Bernier Champagne is another reference point that comes to mind. All three are singular while maintaining a very specific point of view and not alienating others. Unique and inclusive. Deliberate and still very aware of surroundings.
If a certain wine and dish are pleasurable, they will always make a good pairing. Composure and pleasure eclipse the stress that can frequently accompany a pursuit to replicate expected and almost cliché pairings. The alignment of dynamics can be great, as can be exploring contrast. It closely resembles any other personal relationship. As soon as one embraces the risk and fear of an atypical rapport, the world opens up to myriad possibilities that may have otherwise been overlooked. Gender, race, sexual orientation, careers, hobbies, favorite colors and zodiac signs. If one is confined to a cage, there is never a chance to engage with the other animals.
Brewer: My hope and goal throughout my entire career has been to help others feel more comfortable with wine.
JB: If cost was no consideration, tell us the one bottle you would add to your personal collection, and why.
GB: While I ultimately love all wines, there is really nothing I envy. There is a time and place for everything, and I fear that seeking something out would lessen the relationship I would have with the object. Who am I to have something in my keeping when it might offer more pleasure to someone else? Many of the wines that I have possessed have been very valuable to me and their subsequent consumption has been the best way to honor them. Such would include last vintages from inspirational mentors who have since passed away or last vintages from colleagues whose families have asked me to finish their work upon their sudden passing.
JB: What is your favorite grape variety, and why?
GB: I don’t subscribe to the notion of favorites, but were I to work with only one grape, it would unequivocally be Chardonnay. I cherish its purity, nobility, and its capacity to convey place.
This wine reveals itself in a patient manner.
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?
GB: From our collection of wines, I would suggest diatom Chardonnay. It is not only something that wouldn’t be expected, it is by far and away the longest-lived wine that we steward. As it is raised in a virtual vacuum, it is very slow to unveil what lies beneath, and as such would hopefully be compelling for someone at year 10, 20 or 30.
JB: Where is your go-to place when you want to have a glass or bottle (outside of your home and workplace)?
GB: My wife and I both work long hours every day, and a “go to place” outside of those two venues is somewhat foreign. My ideal scenario would be for us to stand in our home together with nice glassware and sexy deep house trance music — preferably with female vocals.
Greg Brewer is a philosophical creature of the Sta. Rita Hills AVA. (Photo courtesy Brewer-Clifton)
JB: If there was one thing you wish everyone would keep in mind when buying and drinking wine, what is it?
GB: My hope and goal throughout my entire career has been to help others feel more comfortable with wine. There is a tremendous level of fear, apology and permission that accompanies many individuals’ relationship with wine. It makes me sad and I always turn myself inside out to try to assuage that insecurity in others.
The word “should” has been imbedded in millions of questions posed to me about wine, which is tragic, really. When should I drink this? What should I drink it out of? What temperature should I, etc.? The fear abridges the ultimate understanding and pleasure that wine can offer. It is an extremely primitive and elementary beverage that has essentially been around as long as water and fire. People can quickly recognize they know WAY more about it than they realize it as soon as they link the fundamentally simple elements of it to other areas of life with which they have more confidence. Music, fashion, art, design, gravity, a teeter totter … It’s all virtually the same once you allow it.
JB: What is your “wine eureka moment,” the incident/taste/encounter that put you and wine on an intimate plane forever?
GB: There are two that stand out that both occurred quite early in my career, which I suppose is obviously inherent based on the question! Sorry!! ;). One was tasting a 1987 Williams-Selyem Rochioli Pinot Noir for the first time, and the other was 1987 Calera Jensen Pinot Noir. In addition to the monumental nature of both wines, the setting and company elevated the experience to a different level. Both were beautiful lessons that the environment in which something is experienced plays such a vital role to every aspect of the experience. No matter how coveted the object or experience, the enjoyment will prove meaningless if one feels uncomfortable, distracted, or under duress.
JB: What has been the strangest moment or incident involving wine that you have experienced in your career thus far?
GB: I don’t think anything has been that strange, ultimately. Fun coincidences, synergies, and surprises, but nothing that seems too far outside of this realm.
Baudelaire had a special relationship with wine.
JB: Your favorite wine reference in a work of literature?
GB: The poem, “Enivrez-vous” by Charles Baudelaire. I love the notion of arresting time through wine, poetry, or virtue. I love how those elements can suspend time, which is not only something we all possess in equal measure, but the one thing that is the most fleeting …
Enivrez-vous (Paris Spleen, 1864)
Il faut être toujours ivre. Tout est là: c’est l’unique question. Pour ne pas sentir l’horrible fardeau du Temps qui brise vos épaules et vous penche vers la terre, il faut vous enivrer sans trêve. Mais de quoi? De vin, de poésie ou de vertu, à votre guise. Mais enivrez-vous. Et si quelquefois, sur les marches d’un palais, sur l’herbe verte d’un fossé, dans la solitude morne de votre chambre, vous vous réveillez, l’ivresse déjà diminuée ou disparue, demandez au vent, à la vague, à l’étoile, à l’oiseau, à l’horloge, à tout ce qui fuit, à tout ce qui gémit, à tout ce qui roule, à tout ce qui chante, à tout ce qui parle, demandez quelle heure il est et le vent, la vague, l’étoile, l’oiseau, l’horloge, vous répondront: “Il est l’heure de s’enivrer! Pour n’être pas les esclaves martyrisés du Temps, enivrez-vous; enivrez-vous sans cesse! De vin, de poésie ou de vertu, à votre guise.”
Be always drunken. Nothing else matters: that is the only question. If you would not feel the horrible burden of Time weighing on your shoulders and crushing you to the earth, be drunken continually. Drunken with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you will. But be drunken. And if sometimes, on the stairs of a palace, or on the green side of a ditch, or in the dreary solitude of your own room, you should awaken and the drunkenness be half or wholly slipped away from you, ask of the wind, or of the wave, or of the star, or of the bird, or of the clock, of whatever flies, or sighs, or rocks, or sings, or speaks, ask what hour it is; and the wind, wave, star, bird, clock, will answer you: “It is the hour to be drunken! Be drunken, if you would not be martyred slaves of Time; be drunken continually! With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you will.”
Arthur Symons (1865-1945) translation, as quoted by Eugene O’Neill in Long Day’s Journey into Night
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