31 Days of Natural Wine, Day6

A new post every day for a WHOLE MONTH! It can happen...

Please check out Cory's blog Saignee where he is doing a Series of 31 posts on natural wine. Today he is actually featuring the post I did on our February visit to the Joly winery.

Cory comes highly recommended by my DoBianchi (read his guest post here), who was so excited about Saignee that they met at Terroir in San Francisco during the Nous Non Plus California tour.

Tomorrow, the absolutely fabulous Alice Feiring (hi Alice!) will post, so make sure you tune in for that too.

Maybe the Mr. and Mrs. Saignee could come to Austin soon for a little Chablis and Chickens*#t Bingo? As DoBianchi likes to say, that would be blog-o-licious.

Learning to Deal: Fried Chicken and My Thoughts on Breadcrumbs

Let me just start by saying that there is no excuse to use store-bought bread crumbs. They are SO easy to make as long as you have bread. And if the bread is fresh, as long as you have time to dry them out in the oven, let them cool completely, and grind it down in the food processor (that you surely own), you will never have to resort to industrial leftovers...

But what's a girl to do when her guy asks her ever so sweetly to make his favorite fried chicken for dinner? At 6:00 in the evening and she still had to go to the store? How could I say no? (My "fried chicken" is an Italian-style cotoletta di pollo, I use thinly-sliced** chicken breasts and bread them with flour-egg-breadcrumb coating.) The preferred contorni are mashed potatoes and some kind of leafy green, so you can imagine that this is no 30-minute meal.

An obvious solution would be to grab a pack of store-bought breadcrumbs (see first paragraph), but I had turned my back on them years ago after realizing that they all contained partially-hydrogenated oil. In a very Christopher Columbus moment I discovered Kikkoman Panko a few months ago and realized (joy!) that they have no P.H. oil on the ingredient list.

In any case, whether you make your own crumbs or buy them at the store, you can easily put a little sass in the frass by "doctoring them up," as my mom would say. Here's what you do:


Once your crumbs are processed, add lemon zest, fresh basil, fresh thyme, salt, pepper, and Parmiggiano-Reggiano and pulse until everything is ground (for the chicken in the first pic, I even used a spoonful of cornmeal--can't ignore the 'southern' in me). Last week I threw in a bit of lively tarragon that was in my fridge and it added a whole new level of aroma to the seasoned crumbs. The flavors of lemon and basil tend to whither a bit in the heat, so don't be shy--use a whole lemon's zest and a brazen handful of basil.

That's the secret, as for the rest (flour-egg-breadcrumb-FRY) you are all accomplished cooks and know exactly what to do!

And who doesn't love fried?

**From the "don't get me started" section of my blog: "thinly-sliced" is a foreign concept here in Austin. I was quite spoiled in Italy to find everything sliced to perfection--prosciutto, veal, pork, chicken breasts, turkey breasts--everything! The patience that I exercise when the butcher proudly shows me how carefully he cut the breast down to a one-half-inch thickness is grounds for canonization. The way that I cheer on the deli guy to cut my prosciutto better (come on, you CAN DO IT!) is a testament to my optimism, right Jeremy P? One day it will be better in Austin...it will! I have a dream, and in it, I can almost see you through the slice.

My Guest Blogger: DoBianchi's Take on Fresh Pasta

To complete my pasta series with style (you can see part 1 here and part 2 here) I enlisted the help of my own resident smarty pants, Jeremy Parzen. In addition to having spent a number of years in Northern Italy, he has a doctorate in Italian Literature. His authoritative voice on all things pasta and Petrachan will impress you for sure...worked for me!

Take it away, DoBianchi...

I cannot conceal that when Tracie B asked me to guest blog at My Life Italian, I was thrilled. I mean, after all, who wouldn't be honored to contribute to the blog of the woman who wrote a line I wish I wrote, about happy vines she saw in Ischia: If I were a vine, I would grow here. Her innate gifts as a writer, her humor, honesty, and honed palate, and — above all — her insights and perspective into the "garden of Europe" — the bel paease — the fair country are what made me fall for her in the first place. The title of her blog alone still makes me melt. Hey, Tracie B, you had me at hello… Or should I say, ciao?

One of the fun things about our relationship and our shared Italophilia is how she lived in Southern Italy, while I lived in the North. When we talk together in Italian, it's a veritable Tower of Babel: she, the belle from Orange, Texas speaks with a rich, musical Neapolitan accent, and I, from San Diego, speak with a nasaly, sharp Veneto accent!

When she posted the other day about the preference and tradition of "dried pasta," pastasciutta, in Southern Italy, she suggested that I write something about the fresh pasta that prevails in Emilia. So, I wrote to my friend Dindo in Bologna, and asked him to take some photographs of his mother making the fresh pasta that she makes nearly every day.

It's not that people in the North don't eat dried pasta. As a matter of fact, the Emilians are very proud of their Barilla, which is based in their region. But fresh lasagne and tagliatelle reign supreme there, as do a wide variety of stuffed fresh pastas — ravioli, tortelli, tortellini, cappelletti, etc.

Historically, dried pasta has its origins in Southern Italy. In Maestro Martino's 15th-century cookbook The Art of Cooking (which I translated for University of California Press, 2005), he includes a recipe for a dried pasta that resemble today's fusilli. He calls it "Sicilian macaroni" and instructs the reader to dry it in the sun, adding that it can last for up to three years. It's very likely that the warmer temperatures of the South and the ventilation provided by the sea are among the factors that would make Gragnano near Naples the unrivalled center for the production of dried pasta by the mid-18th century.

In landlocked Emilia, humidity and colder temperatures are factors in a unique macroclimate that gives us a variety of culinary wonders, like Parmigiano Reggiano. Did you know, for example, that you can replicate the methods for making Parmigiano Reggiano elsewhere in the world, but it only gets that unique texture and consistency when made in the foggy, damp provinces of Parma and Reggio Emilia (where the smell of pig poop is ubiquitous)?

There are other reasons why the Emilians still favor fresh pasta but the geography and climate alone are a big part of why fresh pasta prevails in the North.

Here is Signora Corradino's method for making garganelli, with ridges of course!


After you've rolled the pasta out, you cut it into squares.


Then you roll those around a wooden rod (this is similar to Maestro Martino's technique for Sicilian macaroni).


Then you make the ridges — so important in order for the sauce to penetrate the pasta — using a specially made pasta loom.

Weekly Wino: Oh What a Night

A trip to Uncle Ace's is always a pleasure for Jeremy and me, where we are taken care of, cooked for, and forced to drink wine from the rich cellar of our mutual friend. We are more than happy to help him whittle down his supply of old wine, a worthy sacrifice for the guy who has affected such positive change in both of our lives.

After my workday was over, DoBianchi and I made the quick trek up I-35 with visions of 1968 Conterno Monfortino Riserva dancing in our heads. We were greeted by our (Galeotto) Alfonso and his SO Kim. Arriving at dinnertime, Kim had made a lovely little antipasto of herbed chevre on baby endive and paired with Loimer "Kamptal" Gruner Veltliner.

The chevre-y goodness paired perfectly with the dancing minerality of the Gruner.

The menu would be local, grass-fed T-bones and veggies to support the 1986 Mouton and star-of-the-night 1968 Barolo Monfortino by Giacomo Conterno. Despite the champion and expert effort of our very own sommy-somm Jeremy, the cork broke. I cannot imagine anyone getting that thing out intact.

No matter! There was no cork a-floatin' in my glass.

If you look at the label closely, you will see that it was aged in botti (huge neutral-wood vats) for a full decade before it was bottled. This wine was taken care of, raised with a loving hand, and left to nap peacefully in Alfonso's cellar.

This wine...aaahhhh. This wine...makes me go all wistful. It had that old Nebbiolo nose of cedar/sandalwood/suede with a hint of moist, leafy underbrush. If there were a to-do list for the expression tertiary aromas, we would have checked every one.

What no one expected was the acidity. This wine was ALIVE and not in the way that a forty year-old wine can be--explosion of taste and smell, only to burn out with an ephemeral last gasp--it HUNG OUT. It was in for the party and if we hadn't drained it in less than an hour, it would have drunk us under the table in a no-country-for-old-farts kind of way.

This Barolo had LIFE and it had umami. I don't want to give more specific tasting notes because what was special was how this wine made us feel, transcending the material and bringing us into a soulful flex of admiration. I felt surprise, appreciation, lovely yummy, in the moment, in the glass, in love, in a state of being that was...together.

Pastasciutta Part 2: La Cottura

Click here for Part 1.

La Cottura in Italian refers to "how you cook the pasta." Jeremy (my very own highly-paid Italian language expert) explained to me that there is no direct translation, when I asked him if there were another way to define this word without using an entire English phrase.

But there is no direct or "slavish" translation for this second important element in making a great plate of pasta. Much more simple, at the same time much easier to err, than it would seem.

The simplicity (and difficulty) in all of this is twofold.

1. Salting the water
2. Duration of boiling

For the first, many a cookbook would have you egregiously underseason your water. I use the word "season" because how you flavor the water translates to flavor enhancement of the pasta itself. In Italy, we can eat a fantastic primo piatto, but recreating that glory once home can leave even the best home cook scratching her head, wondering why she can't get that same intangible...umph.

One thing that I have seen over and over in my years in Italy is a generous flow of salt into the boiling pot. Taste your water; it should be just a bit less salty than the sea. This may seem like an exaggeration but I promise it will take the pasta itself from being a neutral vessel for the exaltation of your best sauce to a supporting role that takes the whole show over the top.


Second, please don't overcook your pasta. I said PLEASE DO NOT NOT NOT OVERCOOK THE PASTA! Did you hear me? Chewing on slightly undercooked pasta is preferable to the awful sensation of a rigatone that gives up too easily under the pressure of your teeth.

Besides the flavor of your sauce, you should really be enjoying a well seasoned spaghetto with the pleasant tactile sensation of pasta that is perfectly al dente. You want to feel, taste, and smell its presence underlining the fabulosity of your perfect ragu'.

To achieve this effortlessly, read the cooking time on your box of high quality dried pasta (remember lesson 1?) and drain it about 2 minutes short. There will be carry-over cooking as well as a bit more time in the pan with the condiment. (Please tell me that you stir your pasta in the pan with the sauce! Also important--must meld.)

Tell your guests to sit down and dig in when the plate hits the table because, honey, zee pasta waits-a for a-nobody!

Call Me Crazy

But living in the Garden of Eatin' that was Italy didn't exorcise the taco-loving Texana out of me. Even the clams couldn't eclipse the burning in my heart that was my love for Mexican (Texican) food.

I always make nachos/quesadillas/tacos at home. I have convinced myself that I can make them healthy without a hint less of flavor, which is important because my metabolism cooperates less every day closer I get to 34. What I do is make a filling/topping that is versatile and, being forced to confess, I would say damn good.

My DoBianchi has asked me to post a recipe, inspired by our ritual equation of American Idol+nachos=love. I will do no such thing, as I am too willy-nilly with my filling to be precise, but I will tell you what I do and maybe you can too:

*One pound, maybe a bit more, of ground turkey or chicken breast. (HINT: when you can find it, ground chicken breast is quite a bit cheaper.)

*4-5 T of Chili powder, not the authentic New Mexican kind, but that Americanized spice mix. I like Fiesta...it's fancy.

*1 can of drained and rinsed (rinse please!) black beans. I like Progresso and Goya.

*Handful of frozen corn, fresh if you find yourself in the midst of Summer.

*A bunch of fresh baby spinach

*As much cilantro as you can stand to wash and cut, the more the better!

*2-3 limes, depending how juicy they are

*1 minced garlic clove and maybe 1/2 cup of finely diced onion.

1. Put the onion in a heated (mediumish) pan coated with olive oil, saute 5 minutes and add garlic until it becomes fragrant.
2. Add the bulk of the chili powder and stir with onion, garlic, and oil.
3. Add spinach and cook, and this is important, until the water is gone. Add ground meat and brown, putting the balance of chili powder in the mix.
4. Now that the meat is cooked, season to taste with salt and pepper, adding more chili powder if you're not feeling it.
5. Now it's time for the corn, stir it in until it's heated and seasoned. FOLD in the black beans, letting the spices penetrate without breaking them into mush.
NOTE: At this point, you want the mix to be free of running liquid, but not totally dry.
6. Take the pan off of the heat and go crazy with the lime juice and cilantro. Crazy! The lime juice is the secret that totally takes this over the top.

If you're making nachos, top some chips with the filling, low-fat refrieds too should you choose, and a moderate amount of ColbyJack cheese. (I SO know we're not Mexican anymore, but it's "inspired.") Throw them in the oven, melt, and top them with shredded cabbage and more cilantro. The cabbage is delicious, crunchy, and much more nutritious than mere lettuce.

Jeremy and I LOVE Herdez ranchera salsa. Goes great on top of the nachos!

If you make a little more of the mix, you'll have it on hand in the fridge to make quesadillas, tacos, or tostadas at will.

Whew! For all of my hard work, Jeremy surprised me with a bottle of Tempier Rose' (seems to be another emerging pattern, next week Tempier Blanc?), and you can read his thoughts here. It was lovely, very much in the same way as its Rouge sibling that I wrote about two weeks ago, but it's his turn, so go read it please.

My poor guy has to eat this at least on a weekly basis, constantly reminded by the leftovers, but he's still hangin' around so I guess our resident DoBianchi is a sucker for punishment! Who knew?

Now go get your Mex on! And feel good about it.

As if I weren't impressed before...

...our Jeremy P (DoBianchi) dun' wrote him a book! Well, he translated it for Princeton Press. Can we get a big fat auguri? This Texana is so proud!

I mean, it's kind of a big deal :)

Blogication: To My Jeremy P

I must interrupt the regular programming to post a pic of my sweety and me. I have to say that this has been the best part about coming home and a confirmation that I do have a bit of sense...


Thank you for coming to Austin DoBianchi! You've made life even sweeter :)

Weekly Wino: Tempo per Tempier? Indeed.

I'll admit to being very excited about American Idol, but awkward performances and triumphant surprises made for a splendid evening over a glass of Tempier Bandol. My very own DoBianchi, was recently braggety-bragging about having drunk the famous Tempier Rose' that I have yet to taste. In his wisdom, to avoid seeing me take a long walk down pout street, my guy hastily opened a bottle the '05 Bandol Rouge last night.

Please visit here to git yerself a-learnin' about the Bandol appellation. I will not torture you with my clumsy and perfunctory version of history and percentages when my rested fingers can point you elsewhere. I'll just tell you that this Provencal beauty is mostly Mourvedre with some Cinsault, perhaps some other usual suspects. Maybe someone out there knows the recipe...? The Google gods granted me no such tech sheet in an admittedly brief search this morning.

I brought two cheeses home from Mandola's. The first was a Chevre, the second a Pecorino Sardo. I fully expected the former to pair with the aperitivo of bubbles and the latter with the Tempier. Instead, this wine seemed strong but SO delicate that the Pecorino overwhelmed it. The Chevre was, suprisingly, the perfect partner.

Who knew?

Aahh, now to the good stuff. The nose gave hints of earth and tar, supported by an undercurrent of black cherry liquorice. On top of the crust and the filling were sprinkles of anise, lavender, cedar, and eucalyptus. But what was new and MEMORABLE about this wine was the velvet softness that reminds me of the fresh, cool stroke of talcum powder on a warm summer day. It made my mouth water in the same way that natural minerality usually does, but this was not made of salt or stone, it was Baby Soft.

I could barely tear my nose away.

So when the performances were sub par, I retreated into my glass of babies and spice, thankful to Kermit Lynch for deliverance.

Keeping it Italian: 'A Past' Asciutt' Pt 1

Misconception Americans have about Italian food #32b, Section 2:

Fresh pasta is superior/preferred to dried pasta, the latter being merely a convenient substitute for the unskilled and lazy.

Many times I have heard people say, "But fresh pasta is definitely better." Well, not exactly. I will start by saying that fresh pasta is a more Northern tradition, while dried pasta is a more Southerly thang.

The absolute Mecca for fresh pasta is without a doubt, Emilia-Romagna. That being said, all regions, no matter their Latitudinal persuasion, boast their own fresh pasta. (In Naples, they have eggless scialatielli, made with regular flour and water, typically dressed with frutti di mare...yum!)

Dried and fresh pasta have two very different but equally important uses. For example, no Italian in her right mind would EVER make a puttanesca with fresh pasta (click here to read DoBianchi's excellent history on this misunderstood sauce). On the other hand, who ever heard of dried ravioli? Spaghetti/penne with fresh tomatoes would not be the same without perfectly al dente, high-quality dried pasta.

Since I am a girl of the south, on both sides of the Atlantic, we'll concentrate on the latter. (In my series Keeping it Italian, we'll focus on how to get the good stuff right here at home.)

There are a few indicators of quality to help you navigate a grocery isle (stay away from anything that says "noodles" unless you're making Asian food, please.) The most important is the surface of the pasta, whatever shape it may be. It must-a to be ruvido (that means rough), not like sandpaper, but a bit like the fine side of a fingernail file. This helps the sauce adhere to the pasta, clinging to the hope of making your mouth happy.

Buy one of those bags of 79 cent "noodles" when you buy your good spaghetti. You'll feel the difference!

The second, which reveals itself only after cooking, is the integrity of the pasta. If it falls apart when you stir it with the sauce, it is too old. It may have been a fine bag of love in its prime, but it's a sign that your grocer isn't turning over his stock.

**Digression alert**
One more thing, and this is a personal preference, but I believe with my entire Texan being that all "cut" pasta (penne, ziti, rigatoni, etc) should be ridged, or rigata. There is nothing uglier than a plate of smooth penne, espesh when one or two are broken. Why have Lays when you can have Ruffles? Why would you forgo the extra fun of added texture for the flat and boring landscape of liscia (smooth)?

Back to business...

Must we spend 5-7 dollars a pound on Rustichella d'Abruzzo to get it right? Maybe. This is terrific pasta, but this starch's humble purpose in the kitchen becomes a luxury when it should be a nutritious and everyday option.

In most supermarkets you can find DeCecco, which is a fine product, though industrial, but I use it regularly. My favorite, however, is I SapORI di Napoli (this is a bit of a word-play, sapori means flavors, the capitalized ori is the plural of oro, which means gold). I found in this brand what I had been looking for since I returned from Italia. It's made in Caserta (just outside of Naples) and feels like a true artisan pasta.

Otherwise, Garofolo is great AND made in Gragnano. This Southern Italian town is home to panuozzi, eponymous fizzy red wine, and it is molto famous for its dried pasta...

Please stay tuned for Part 2 where we'll talk about cooking the pasta!

Weekly Wino: What the hell's wrong with Chardonnay?

It's 100% Chardonnay, if you like that kind of thing.
--some guy working in a local wine bar, telling me about one of their sparkling wines

It never fails to surprise me when a "wine person" utters such nonsense. Can we please stop propagating the misguided idea that all Chardonnay is oaky and buttery and therefore bad? Please dismount the high horses, it only makes one seem ignorant to poo-poo an entire varietal for the unfortunate trends which have tainted this noble grape's reputation.

I guess this guy has never had a Chablis, more southerly Burgundy, or a Blanc de Blanc...? There are even some Chardonnays out of California that are fresh and clean, fermented in stainless steel and bottle-aged instead of barriqued.

The Chablis manifestation is where one should start to understand the truth of Chardonnay. It is usually naked, nervous, stripped of make-up and a hair dryer. But it has natural beauty which shines and delights even more because it's clean.

Still in Burgundy, but heading south, we might encounter some Côte de Beaune. This Chardonnay is a bit more voluptuous with its light touch of malo-lactic fermentation and kiss of oak. But eet ees zo French, done with elegance, destined for subtlety and long life.

Aaaaah, and Champagne. You know how I feel about bubbles. A good Blanc de Blanc (made with 100% Chardonnay) is an effervescent delight. Grapes are picked precociously, to maintain high acidity and low sugar, much like those spunky little gymnasts who remain tiny into adulthood to delight us with back-flips and perfect dismounts.

BUT...we wouldn't have a Weekly Wino without a wine, would we? The protagonist of this drama is a 2007 Côte de Lechet Chablis (premier cru) by Laurent Tribut. This wine is still a bit young, but its potential is clear and DoBianchi and I enjoyed it thoroughly on Valentine's Day. We will surely revisit this feminuccia in a year.

Tasting notes (let's go with a list, I have taken too much of your time already):

*Do you remember the Sprite "limon" from the 80s?
*strong minerality
*bit of hazelnut...or is that graphite?
*ultra tart pineapple
*if there were a crystal ball in this glass, I would see the future hint of cinnamon upon maturity
*apple peel

I encourage you to drink more Chardonnay and this one is a good place to start. Premier cru Chablis can be relatively inexpensive so go for it!

And if you are a wine professional, please speak responsibly because people do listen.

This wine is available locally at Austin Wine Merchant.

I Won!

That's right, I done won me an award...an American Squirrel Wine Blog Award. Just look at that little guy!

Nominated and winning in the following categories:

Special Award for Time Elapsed between Posts: (Never thought my procrastination would be preceded by the hyphenated distinction "award-winning.")

Best Wine Blogs Pairing: my life italian and DoBianchi (This award was shared with my very own Jeremy Parzen. We actually met because of our blogs. This must be the first and best blog love story ever!)

So thank you Sgt. Sassafrass, I am honored.

Weekly Wino: Fresh from the Archives

I Vini Paesani

I wrote this way back in May of 2006 when I was living in Italy. If ever you wanted a little slice of Italian life, you can taste here.

That translates as "country wine," but the meaning is closer to home-made wine. I want to talk about this part of Italian wine life because is exists and is very important to the common Italian.

There is a large market for these unlabeled bottles and they are consumed in many homes as the daily table wine. This bottle is of the more "professional" variety, as it is sold in a 750 ml bottle with a cork. Many times, il vino paesano is packaged in old glass water bottles, or even 1.5 liter plastic water bottles. You can see in the photo to the right, the "label" is handwritten and says Gragnano. Gragnano is a slightly sweet and very fizzy red made on the Sorrento Peninsula. If you've ever had a lambrusco amabile, you have an idea of what this tastes like.

The first time that I ever tried vino paesano, I was 22 years old and in Venice. I had lost myself in the winding streets and happened upon a wine store. Inside was a very rotund man with a beard and an apron, and he explained to me that the 9 HUGE straw-covered casks on display were fresh wines brought in from all over the Veneto. Fresh wines! I'd never heard of this. Enthusiastically I asked for a bottle, and he asked me if I had one for him to fill. Of course not! He went to the back, brought out an empty plastic water bottle (1.5 L) and filled it with red. At that time, I paid about 3 dollars (still being a student, this was a pleasant surprise), carried my bottle with me, and shared it with my friend and a few rowdy guys on the train back to Florence. It was wonderful because I had found a new wine experience.

By now, I have tried just about every local varietal in its paesano version. In Ischia, that would mean the having tried the less-common-on-the-mainland biancolella (white), per'e'palummo/piedirosso (red). AND, there have even been times when the "uvaggio," or varietal(s) was unknown, even to its contadino (farmer) winemaker.

Wherever in Italy wine is made, (everywhere!), you are sure to find a local paesano production of the regional wines. They are neither fabulous nor complex, and sure never to win any distinction. They can be too sour, too tannic, or even oxidized--but if you find the right supplier, they can also be delicious and fun and just the right compliment to that rabbit braised in a clay pot.

They are certainly not perfect, and one cannot expect the same wine that comes out of a bottle, but they are an experience worth having because to the farmer who makes them, they are a manifestation of his passion for the land, they are his own personal work of art, they are his pride in a bottle that his wife lovingly puts on the table every day for the family. These wines are a pure expression of the important part of Italian culture that takes what nature has given locally and turns it into a sacred familial ritual of eating well every day.

These wines are the bare, simple truth of the vine, brought to fermented life by the hand that has worked his land for generations. It is local, rustic, and Italian; it is a way to get closer to the real culture, and for that, it is special.

Loire Valley Part Deux: Our Queasy Quarts de Chaume Drive-By

As only I am capable of, on our second day of of touring the Loire Valley, I managed to score some sort of first-class stomach funk.

After the Joly winery tour on day one, we drove into Rochefort to find the hotel that Virginie booked for us. Driving through the town square, my eyes immediately spotted a sign that read "Chaume." Jeremy and I had already decided to visit one more town/winery on the way back to Paris the next day--we were thinking more along the lines of Chinon. But seeing Chaume, as in !!OMG-Quarts-du-Chaume!!, changed my mind.

Quarts de Chaume AOC, if you don't know, is one of those revelatory dessert wine appellations. Esoteric and obscure though it may be, it is definitely worth the hunt. Let me take you back in time...

August 2008: Jeremy came to Austin to visit me for the first time. On his second and last day, I cooked dinner. He had never tasted a Quarts de Chaume before. I bought a half-bottle of Baumard from Austin Wine Merchant. It was incredibly memorable and now sentimental.

**Cue back to present-day LOIRE and my excessive rambling.**

So, Quarts de Chaume is produced entirely with botrytized Chenin Blanc grapes. It has that characteristic botrytis nose, but the chosen varietal lends such an incredible minerality and nervous acidity that its perfect balance of sugar and acid with that salty sprinkle of terroir-driven mineral will make you FORGET about ever wanting a Sauternes. Semillion just can't deliver what Chenin can. We had the '05, so I can only imagine how wonderfully this wine would age.

The land area for this AOC is roughly 70 acres, and the maximum yields are appropriately low.

After all of this raving about QdC, I have to say that it was the very last thing I could stomach under the relentless wave of nausea that hit me on day 2. I asked Jeremy to very gently drive me through the undulating vineyards on curvy roads so that I could at least see what I was missing while trying not to leave a bit of myself in the terroir.

The village of Chaume consists of exactly 3 adjacent houses, a man with dark hair, and a horse. Driving through the vineyards, it was clear that the vines were all quite old (40-50 years, at least), many of them head-trained. These kinds of vines were a pleasantly ubiquitous site that may lose something in the transition from reality to digital image. I trust that some of you out there may appreciate it, nonetheless.

It was quite the dream fulfilled being able to poke around this favored corner of the Loire Valley. The air was clean and crisp, much like the wines, and the villages were absolutely charming.

I love good values from regions overshadowed by flashier, more expensive wines from regions famous for being famous. While a good Quarts de Chaume may not be what most consider cheap at $35ish per half-bottle, it offers a product that has more soul and class in its recently-released-375 mLs than an average Sauternes could ever hope to offer, even after 10 years in the bottle. Not that the latter has no merit--we all know that a great Sauternes can be quite thrilling--but a truly great one is simply cost-prohibitive for most of us.

Locally, Baumard Quarts de Chaume, 2005 is available at Austin Wine Merchant. Run, don't walk!

Loire Valley and the Nicolas Joly Winery

Holy vache, did Jeremy Parzen and I have a good ol' time in France! His band, Nous Non Plus, had a 5-gig tour in France and New York, so I offered my services as number #1 groupie and tagged along. I'll blog about the music later, but the priority here is our 24 hour wine jaunt to the Loire Valley. Each of us alone is quite wine geeky, put us together in a couple and there was no place to go but Savennières.

After a fantastic display of my very own signature badgering, Jeremy agreed to take me. It was a toss-up between Chablis and Savennières...so we decided the first winery to respond would be our destination.

Virginie, Nicolas Joly's daughter responded right away, no doubt thanks to Mr. DoBianchi.

It was rainy and cool, and the plains of the Parisian periphery slowly gave way to the rolling hills surrounding our destination. Arriving in Angers, we abandoned the autostrada for the smaller roads leading to the wine country where there were signs reading Bouchemaine, La Pointe, and Epiré.

The sky started to clear upon our arrival at the Joly property. We were greeted by the young, energetic, and super-knowledgeable Virginie who wasted no time in pouring us wine.

The first wine was the Le Vieux Clos, which is their entry-level Savennières AOC, though all of the grapes are estate-grown. Jeremy asked her if this one was exported to the states, because neither of us had heard of this particular bottling. She explained that for some reason, the importer thought that the word "vieux" wouldn't be appreciated in the States, so this one is known as "Les Clos Sacrés" in the USA. The soil composition under these vines is entirely sandy, and some of the clusters are naturally infected with botrytis.

**Just a break for explanation here...it is very often erroneously reported that Joly's wines are oxidized. This just ain't true, for the love of biodynamic bacchus! All of his wines are botrytized, to varying degrees, which gives them that unctuous honeyed nose, and later the golden color that could be easily mistaken for oxidation.**

Anyway, wine #2 was the mid-level Clos de la Bergerie from the Roche-aux-Moines AOC. The vines from this vineyard grow in about 30 cm of sand before they have the strain of brown slate. There is more botrytis, and the vines are just a bit older. That pic to the right is the Bergerie vineyard cooling under a fitfully shining sunset.

Wine #3...drum roll please...was the Coulée de Serrant AOC. This vineyard is composed entirely of brown slate and is planted on a steep slope. The word Coulée refers to a small valley,** and Serrant is the name of a castle nearby, whose inhabitants donated much of the funds to plant the vineyards many many years ago. The Joly family purchased the entire estate in the 60s, and the Coulée de Serrant appellation is exclusive to this property (that's it in the pic below). Look ma, our very own AOC! Can you imagine? (BTW--Clos de la Bergerie is shared among 5ish producers.)

Virginie patiently answered ALL of our questions (we were quite the curious duo), and explained that the most important aspect of her father's wines is the foundation of minerality, which the brown slate supports. Chenin Blanc (my favorite white varietal), in my experience, has a characteristic nuttiness supported by don't-mess-with-me-while-I'm-getting-ready acidity.

Speaking of, the line-up was from the '07 vintage which is SO not ready to be drunk yet. It nearly split my tongue in two with its bracing acidity. Not to say that the wines weren't fantastic! They just need to hang out in their bottles for a bit. Two things give wine endurance to age: tannin and acid. The latter is the reason that Joly's wines, as well as most other Savennières/Chenin-based wines, are so incredibly long-lived.

There was an interesting twist to our tasting, though. All of the wines had been open since Saturday (we were there on a Thursday) and they were still alive! Many claim that Joly's wines should be decanted for as long before drinking. We were quite surprised when she shared this info with us at the end of the tasting.

BUT, there were TWO bottles of Coulée de Serrant on the table. The second, she disclosed, had been open for a few hours. There was a difference. The 5-day-old Coulée was still very vibrant, but the fresher bottle showed more umph and fruit, the complexity was more apparent. (Brooklynguy did a post on these wines with a similar experiment.)









Still reading? Thanks Mom! Here are some more images from the visit and our muddy stroll 'round the vineyards:That's Virginie practicing patience avec moi in the aging room. They use their barrels for many years, keeping the wood from ruining the wine with its scene-stealing presence.

It's my partner in wine crime...isn't he adorable? And just look at that chicken crossing the road! Don't you want to make a yolk?



That is a gnarly old Chenin Blanc vine, 80-90 years old, to be inexact. There are a couple of rows of these at the bottom of the Coulée de Serrant hill. They use them for cuttings, as they are "so used to growing in this terroir." They produce a couple of clusters every year, though, which go into the CdS mix. Wow. I hope you know that I risked a soggy muddy bottom climbing up the hill to take this picture...the things we do for love!

So that's it (really?!) for the Savennières tour. We had a blast and we are grateful to Virginie for putting up with us and being such a great host!

Stay tuned for Loire Valley Part Deux: Our Queasy Quartes-du-Chaume Drive-by...

**Info provided by Virginie, and she knows everything!

Weekly Wino: Best Bubbles Under 15 Bucks

Who loves bubbles? I do I do! I'm sure you do too. Who loves Champagne-Method-Chenin-Blanc-based-Loire-Valley bubbles UNDER FIFTEEN BUCKS?

Who doesn't?

Nowadays, it's hard to find anything decent under $15, much less high-quality sparkling wine. I am here to testify that it IS possible.

Can I get an AMEN?

That wine is today's special value--Chateau Moncontour Sparkling Vouvray Brut, '06. This wine is made from 100% Chenin Blanc (this girl loves CB), with second fermentation in the bottle (Traditional/Classic/Champagne Method), which lends complexity to an already sassy varietal.

The nose is nutty (thank you Chenin!) and yeasty, with a heart of apricot and citrus. The creamy heavy mouthfeel gains levity from the most elegant little bubbles. This is one of the best values around. I've had some other sparkling Vouvrays, but none has come so close to being this damn good.

This wine is super food-friendly, something that could accompany almost anything, but pair this with a bit of prosciutto, and you'll find yourself in hog heaven.

The Loire Valley is generally a place to go for great values, but when it comes to bubbly, you can't beat it, not even with a stick.

Chateau Moncontour Sparkling Vouvray Brut is available in Austin at VinoVino, Grapevine Market, Central Market, and Whole Foods where it should cost about 14 dollars.

Now go on, y'all have some shopping to do!

Please tune in on Wednesday when I will be posting about the Loire Valley and our visit to the Nicolas Joly winery. Woohoo!

La Tour d'Argent

That's my man Jeremy P, also known as DoBianchi, perusing the wine selection at one fay-miss Parisian restaurant. They emphasized that they had only French wine. (Of course! Maybe someone tried to order Opus One last week...?)

That has to be the heaviest wine "list" I HAVE EVER SEEN, and that's just the White Zin selection!

But seriously folks...

French Quoted

"3 rivers run through Lyon: the Rhone, the Saone, and Beaujolais!"

--Our friendly taxi driver in Lyon, referring to the quantity of Beaujolais consumed by the locals.

Suino Divino

Mamma mia, look at that pork! Just a little preview of blog posts to come while Jeremy and I are on the road. This was taken at our wonderful little lunch courtesy of Salumeria Rosi in Manhattan's upper west side.

We are now at JFK airport, waiting to board our flight to Paris where good times (and great eats) are sure to be had on the road with Jeremy's band, Nous Non Plus.

I'll be updating regularly (shut up! I swear I'll try), so stay tuned...

à bientôt :)

Weekly Wino: Bea(ta)

Cloves
Orange peel
Earth
Savory, salty minerality
Deep, complex citrus
Tannins
Grechetto
Sauvignon
Malvasia
Chardonnay
Garganega (that's gar-GA-ne-ga)
Natural

Mouth. Watering.

Paolo Bea Santa Chiara

Thanks DoBianchi!

Available locally at VinoVino