Hmmm.. No, it doesn't really rhyme. But it's what was for dinner tonight. Lamb rib chops, marinated as usual in lemon-garlic-oregano, paired with a garlic-goat yogurt sauce (Yes, this is amazing stuff! And it's rather goaty! In the very best way!). But tonight, I paired it with ratatouille as a side. Now, what is ratatouille? Basically a stew/saute/casserole combining bell peppers, onions, tomatoes, zucchini and eggplant. Tonight, I roasted my veggies before adding them to the piperade of onion, pepper and tomato. It brought out an extra layer of flavor that was very nice, above and beyond sauteeing them in olive oil. Yum.
I had picked up a bottle of the Domaine de la Tourade 2007 Cotes du Rhone, and though I figured it might be young, I wanted to try it. You may remember reading my waxing poetic about this producer's 2003 Vacqueyras, and the CDR did not disappoint. It's incredibly big and complex for a CDR, tons of raspberry fruit, some garrigue, minerality, cocoa notes, roast meat, holy cats! I love this wine already, and it's showing well; it also has all the hallmarks of a wine that should last for years, maybe a decade or more. I intend to pick up at least 4, probably 6, bottles of this to watch it age over time. I also have a few bottles of their 2005 Gigondas, and a couple of their 05 CDR in the cellar. I'm just incredibly impressed by this producer. By now, you may have realized that I'm a Rhone freak--if I could only drink wines from one region fo the world for the rest of my life, I'd likely pick these--for their rusticity, their complexity, their diversity, their friendliness to food, their accessibility when young and the rewards of cellaring. (Burgundy would be a close second, but that's another post.)
Much as I expected, the wine and food also paired beautifully. First of all, lamb and Rhone tends to go well (for that matter, lamb and most red french wines go well...) together. Second, ratatouille comes from the same general region as Rhone wines (for that matter, so does lamb). Finally, there are the flavors and traits of the wine and food that really make it work. The tannins and acid in the wine nicely cut through the fat in the lamb. The fruit accentuated the sweetness of the lamb meat and the veggies in the ratatouille. In short, a lovely pairing.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Salmon two ways, fruit, and sancerre rose
I was lucky enough to come by a reasonably priced salmon filet (full side), wild-caught, frozen on the boat at the grocery recently. This cut nicely into four pieces, and could've been five or even six. Bright red, beautiful piece of fish, not at all "fishy" smelling. So far, so good. I figured two days in row, we'd have salmon for dinner. But I didn't want the two days to seem like the "same boring thing"
Given that fruit is in season now here in Michigan, I decided to try doing fruit sauces with the salmon, and at that, two rather different ones. For Monday night, I made up a blueberry salsa the night before. It was a mix of whole blueberries, honey, half a jalapeno pepper, some shallot, finely diced, and lime juice. The mix blended nicely overnight, and made for a slightly sweet, blueberry driven sauce, with acidic notes from the lime and just a bit of heat from the pepper. It made for a great main course, and was a subtle accompaniment that highlighted the freshness and flavor of the salmon.
For the 2nd night, I figured the salmon might have lost a bit of its freshness, so I decided to go with slightly bolder Asian flavors. So, I did a teriyaki style light glaze for the filets. And, to top them, I made a stove-top Asian white peach sauce. This combined a banana pepper (hot), some shallot again, 4 white peaches, some maple syrup, ginger, and some Chinese rice wine. I cooked it down to a thick, pectin-driven syrup, almost preserves like. I got a big surprise--the banana pepper was far hotter than I'd thought it'd be. The peaches were well complemented by the ginger and rice wine, and the maple worked well with teriyaki. But overall, the sauce was rather too big and powerful for the delicate salmon.
We also had a very enjoyable wine with the salmon. It was a 2008 Reverdy Les Villots Sancerre Rose. This Loire wine was made from pinot noir grapes--so, it has much of that beautiful fruit--red cherries and strawberries. There also is good acidity, a bit of lemon-citrus in it, and deep minerality from the soils of the region. The 08 was very nice--but I'd argue no better than the 07 of this wine. That is in contrast with many of the other Sancerre wines, particularly whites, which tend to be more beautiful in the 08 than 07 vintages. Still, this is a very nice wine, even if it's price tag near $25 is on the high end for a rose. It paired well with the salmon, and was nice with the blueberry sauce, where the citrus and berry notes in the salsa and wine complemented one another. It was less successful with the hot peach sauce, where a sweeter wine would've been better at taming the sauce. But it remained a nice wine the 2nd night.
Given that fruit is in season now here in Michigan, I decided to try doing fruit sauces with the salmon, and at that, two rather different ones. For Monday night, I made up a blueberry salsa the night before. It was a mix of whole blueberries, honey, half a jalapeno pepper, some shallot, finely diced, and lime juice. The mix blended nicely overnight, and made for a slightly sweet, blueberry driven sauce, with acidic notes from the lime and just a bit of heat from the pepper. It made for a great main course, and was a subtle accompaniment that highlighted the freshness and flavor of the salmon.
For the 2nd night, I figured the salmon might have lost a bit of its freshness, so I decided to go with slightly bolder Asian flavors. So, I did a teriyaki style light glaze for the filets. And, to top them, I made a stove-top Asian white peach sauce. This combined a banana pepper (hot), some shallot again, 4 white peaches, some maple syrup, ginger, and some Chinese rice wine. I cooked it down to a thick, pectin-driven syrup, almost preserves like. I got a big surprise--the banana pepper was far hotter than I'd thought it'd be. The peaches were well complemented by the ginger and rice wine, and the maple worked well with teriyaki. But overall, the sauce was rather too big and powerful for the delicate salmon.
We also had a very enjoyable wine with the salmon. It was a 2008 Reverdy Les Villots Sancerre Rose. This Loire wine was made from pinot noir grapes--so, it has much of that beautiful fruit--red cherries and strawberries. There also is good acidity, a bit of lemon-citrus in it, and deep minerality from the soils of the region. The 08 was very nice--but I'd argue no better than the 07 of this wine. That is in contrast with many of the other Sancerre wines, particularly whites, which tend to be more beautiful in the 08 than 07 vintages. Still, this is a very nice wine, even if it's price tag near $25 is on the high end for a rose. It paired well with the salmon, and was nice with the blueberry sauce, where the citrus and berry notes in the salsa and wine complemented one another. It was less successful with the hot peach sauce, where a sweeter wine would've been better at taming the sauce. But it remained a nice wine the 2nd night.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Steak with blueberry gastrique
Dinner tonight involved rather inexpensive T-bone steaks from Busch's. Being as they were not top quality, I figured they could use some help. And, it's blueberry season here in Michigan. So... in spite of my wife's apprehension at the combination of blueberries and beef, I took the risk. And it turned out very well. I started by chopping up half a large shallot, sweating it in butter. In went a cup of blueberries. So far, traditional. Then, the "surprise"--throw in some maple syrup instead of sugar for the sweetness. I've never seen these together, but stood to reason they should go well together. And they do, it turns out. Added some port and red wine vinegar to the mix, and cooked it down. Yum! And, it turned out to pair well with a remarkably inexpensive merlot, the 2006 from Dona Sol. I normally American wines under $4, such as this one. So, I was surprised to find it drinkable, even pleasant. Now, complex and age-worthy it is not. but as a simple wine to pair with a lower quality steak with a fruit sauce, yes. It wasn't over-oaked, it had recognizeable fruit, and all in all, was a real surprise.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Menudo, other New Mexican cuisine, and New Mexico Wines
After probably 8 hours of heinous travel, I arrived today in Albuquerque, New Mexico, for a conference for work. So, this trip is not really a vacation, and I'm traveling alone this time. Nonetheless, I'm trying to make the best of it and enjoy myself as much as I can and experience the local cuisine and wines.
Today, I visited three tasting rooms for New Mexico wines. Gruet, arguably New Mexico's best known winery, produces amazing sparkling wine. Their wines deserve their reputation, and the experience in their tasting room was extraordinary. Their still wines are OK, but not particularly to my taste. Two other wineries that I visited were, frankly, horrific. OK, the wineries themselves were OK. Their wines, not so much. Who got the idea of blending chardonnay and cabernet sauvignon?!? And why? How can a Rhone-style blend be "off-dry" with at least some RS? Who could manage to overdo a cabernet sauvignon more than California producers? And how on earth is a blend of syrah, cabernet sauv and tempranillo a "Spanish style red"?
Two Gruet sparklers just sang: a 2004 vintage blanc de blancs had all the classic acid, minerality and toasty notes you'd want. Their grapes grow in southern NM, on a bed of limestone like subsoil, so I gather that explains the slight chalky minerality that was so exquisite. The tasting room staff compared it to Veuve Clicquot Yellow Label; I find it far mroe exciting than the VC in recent years. This is some seriously good juice, at a reasonable price. And then there's their "old style" grand reserve, done in the Bollinger and Krug style with large oak vats and so on. So much complexity, tons of lemon and almond and a bit of toast--incomparably exciting. Their "baseline" blanc de noirs was excellent as well, as were their brut and demi-sec (which, thankfully, was not over-sweet). A vintage rose that blended still barrel fermented pinto with chardonnay was, in my mind, rather disjointed. It brought incredible fruit from the pinot, some oak-driven notes, the chardonnay richness, and yet a rather acidic crispness. All the components were there, but it just didn't, in my mind, work together.
Dinner tonight was some seriously local New Mexican cuisine from a diner type place. What an experience, in the best possible way. It's this small little "hole in the wall" in a rather industrial part of town, named Mary and Tito's. Now, it just seemed like the kind of place you might find some good, honest local "home-style" greasy spoon cooking. ANd it lived up to that, and then some. I thought I was ordering a small cup of menudo (something I have been itching to try), and a main of enchiladas. Well, each was an immense main course size serving by itself. So a lot of food did not get eaten. But if I could've, I'd have finished it all.
So, menudo is not one of those dishes everyone can easily get their mind around. It's a soup made from broth, I think created by the cooking of the meaty ingredients--two or three types of tripe (cow stomachs), sometimes cow feet, and hominy. Mostly, it's the stuff few of us seem to want to eat. In the case of this place, they topped it with your choice of red or green chili. Indeed, they top everything with red or green. And this is not chili as us northerners think of it--beans and beef with some chili powder and onions. This is chili made from peppers and perhaps tomatoes or tomatillos. The green that I had in the menudo was hot. Very hot. Indeed, I'm still sweating it out two hours later. But, oh, was it GOOD. There was very little of the funk you often associate iwth tripe. The broth was unctuous, the hominy an amazing textural contrast with the slightly sponge-like honeycomb tripe. The meat had cooked, and cooked, and was tender, but not rubbery. The chili spiced it up and took it to another level. Now, I think I might've liked it even better if the traditional accompaniments of lime, cilantro and so on had come with it. But still, WOW!
A real disappointment came in talking to my server, though. He was young, maybe just out of high school, 4 piercings in his lower lip. A really nice guy, and very talkative. And he positively hates menudo. So did a young woman working the floor. They think it stinks, can't stomach it. Only the old time greeter/owner (I"m assuming Mary) seemed to think that yes, in fact, menudo is great cuisine. I hope we are not seeing the disappearance of this wonderful, if odd, soup from menus in coming years, as the new generation moves toward more modern and arguably affluent choices in food.
The enchiladas were also well done. The amazing thing to me was the complete lack of gloppy, sticky sauce and cheese. These were onions, and beef, and an egg over easy, with red chili to top. It was good, it was incredibly filling, and there was nothing "americanized" about it that I found. The red is more flavorful and less hot than the green. Is the the wimp's chili? I'm not sure. Both were good, and worked wonderfully with their individual foods. I am SO glad I tried out this hole in teh wall. What a great experience. And, all for $12.
Today, I visited three tasting rooms for New Mexico wines. Gruet, arguably New Mexico's best known winery, produces amazing sparkling wine. Their wines deserve their reputation, and the experience in their tasting room was extraordinary. Their still wines are OK, but not particularly to my taste. Two other wineries that I visited were, frankly, horrific. OK, the wineries themselves were OK. Their wines, not so much. Who got the idea of blending chardonnay and cabernet sauvignon?!? And why? How can a Rhone-style blend be "off-dry" with at least some RS? Who could manage to overdo a cabernet sauvignon more than California producers? And how on earth is a blend of syrah, cabernet sauv and tempranillo a "Spanish style red"?
Two Gruet sparklers just sang: a 2004 vintage blanc de blancs had all the classic acid, minerality and toasty notes you'd want. Their grapes grow in southern NM, on a bed of limestone like subsoil, so I gather that explains the slight chalky minerality that was so exquisite. The tasting room staff compared it to Veuve Clicquot Yellow Label; I find it far mroe exciting than the VC in recent years. This is some seriously good juice, at a reasonable price. And then there's their "old style" grand reserve, done in the Bollinger and Krug style with large oak vats and so on. So much complexity, tons of lemon and almond and a bit of toast--incomparably exciting. Their "baseline" blanc de noirs was excellent as well, as were their brut and demi-sec (which, thankfully, was not over-sweet). A vintage rose that blended still barrel fermented pinto with chardonnay was, in my mind, rather disjointed. It brought incredible fruit from the pinot, some oak-driven notes, the chardonnay richness, and yet a rather acidic crispness. All the components were there, but it just didn't, in my mind, work together.
Dinner tonight was some seriously local New Mexican cuisine from a diner type place. What an experience, in the best possible way. It's this small little "hole in the wall" in a rather industrial part of town, named Mary and Tito's. Now, it just seemed like the kind of place you might find some good, honest local "home-style" greasy spoon cooking. ANd it lived up to that, and then some. I thought I was ordering a small cup of menudo (something I have been itching to try), and a main of enchiladas. Well, each was an immense main course size serving by itself. So a lot of food did not get eaten. But if I could've, I'd have finished it all.
So, menudo is not one of those dishes everyone can easily get their mind around. It's a soup made from broth, I think created by the cooking of the meaty ingredients--two or three types of tripe (cow stomachs), sometimes cow feet, and hominy. Mostly, it's the stuff few of us seem to want to eat. In the case of this place, they topped it with your choice of red or green chili. Indeed, they top everything with red or green. And this is not chili as us northerners think of it--beans and beef with some chili powder and onions. This is chili made from peppers and perhaps tomatoes or tomatillos. The green that I had in the menudo was hot. Very hot. Indeed, I'm still sweating it out two hours later. But, oh, was it GOOD. There was very little of the funk you often associate iwth tripe. The broth was unctuous, the hominy an amazing textural contrast with the slightly sponge-like honeycomb tripe. The meat had cooked, and cooked, and was tender, but not rubbery. The chili spiced it up and took it to another level. Now, I think I might've liked it even better if the traditional accompaniments of lime, cilantro and so on had come with it. But still, WOW!
A real disappointment came in talking to my server, though. He was young, maybe just out of high school, 4 piercings in his lower lip. A really nice guy, and very talkative. And he positively hates menudo. So did a young woman working the floor. They think it stinks, can't stomach it. Only the old time greeter/owner (I"m assuming Mary) seemed to think that yes, in fact, menudo is great cuisine. I hope we are not seeing the disappearance of this wonderful, if odd, soup from menus in coming years, as the new generation moves toward more modern and arguably affluent choices in food.
The enchiladas were also well done. The amazing thing to me was the complete lack of gloppy, sticky sauce and cheese. These were onions, and beef, and an egg over easy, with red chili to top. It was good, it was incredibly filling, and there was nothing "americanized" about it that I found. The red is more flavorful and less hot than the green. Is the the wimp's chili? I'm not sure. Both were good, and worked wonderfully with their individual foods. I am SO glad I tried out this hole in teh wall. What a great experience. And, all for $12.
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