making soy sauce exciting

We make a lot of broths - chicken, pork bone and all that. You can't be wasting any of it, but after simmering for a few hours, all the flavour from the meat is in the soup. The only way to make it palatable is soy sauce. But soy sauce is boring.

I sex it up a little with chili peppers. Lots of chili peppers. Washed, dried, cut, and then marinated. With time, that wonderful chili flavour permeates the soy sauce and you get the most amazing spiciness. And just try not eating a few peppers as you dip.

DF

the quartet with dinner

     NV Castillo Perelada Brut Rosado | Cava

     NV Domaine De Vaugondy Brut | AC Vouvray

     2009 Bongiovanni Arneis | DOC Langhe

     2009 Cave Talmard | AC Mâcon Uchizy

It was freezing; perfect weather for hotpot. My friend had just moved into a new house and wanted us over for dinner. Kiwi is such a big girl now. A bit more aloof too, lounging on the rug as we ate, making sure we understood that she couldn't care less about any of us.

We had wine. Many wines. Starting with a Cava and a sparkling Vouvray, all good, solidly made bottles. But the real excitement was with the two wines that anchored the meal. Arneis always has that wonderfully aromatic bouquet. The richly textured palate is always a surprise to people who taste it for the first time. Well extracted, vibrant. And what else could I say about the Mâcon Uchizy . . . always delicious. Lots of tropical fruit, that 2009 ripeness. Great texture, balance.

We go into these things all worried about what wine to pair with what, but really, we shouldn't be. It's easy. Sparkling wine always works. High acid always works. But most importantly, good company who likes to have a laugh.

DF

2000 Cariñena Gran Reserva

2000 Duque De Medina Gran Reserva | DO Cariñena

Alright, let's try this again. You of course remember the last time I chanced this bottle. But I'm a bit stubborn . . . I like banging my head against the wall (or in this case, thrashing myself with a hideous looking, wire-encased bottle). But it's all good. All for the love of wine.

A tempranillo/garnacha blend, same vintage as the corked one I returned last year . . . same wine, but why is it now $1 cheaper? But this one was a lot better. So much better. All that rusticity I love, the strawberries and vanilla from the oak that somehow works for Spanish wines. Savoury, with a coarseness on the palate that may be a flaw for some, but seen as character for the more aware. A humble country wine with personality. The only thing nonsensical about this bottle was the hideous label. Why, oh why, did someone decide that brown would be a good colour scheme??!!

Wine criticism is flawed. Anyone who tells you otherwise is ignorant or lying. So how can we improve it? I have an idea, and I may start trying it soon. Maybe we should be working to not only describe what we taste, but go a bit further and talk about what's missing, what would take the wine to the next level. It's certainly been done before, but I'm sure there's a better, more lucid way of doing it.

DF

the sauvignon blanc for hotpot

2009 Leopard's Leap Sauvignon Blanc | Western Cape | South Africa

2010 Elgin Valley Vineyards Sauvignon Blanc | Elgin Valley | South Africa

2009 Durvillea Sauvignon Blanc | Marlborough | New Zealand

After watching the tv event of the year (Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, duh), I was inspired. They're all badass as hell, but Candice Swanepoel takes it to a whole . . . 'nother . . . jaw-dropping . . . tongue-wagging . . . mind-blowing . . . level. South African wines don't usually catch my eye, but damn, CS makes me want to pay more attention.

So, sauvignon blanc with hotpot. I had some friends over, wanting to do something heavy on seafood and greens. They brought over the most amazingly thin slices of beef and pork as well, to round it out. We had so much food - far too much for 6 people, but I was hungry and ready for the challenge. New world sauvignon blanc can be interesting, sort of the other half of the more traditional character of this wine (dry white Bordeaux, Sancerre, Pouilly-Fumé). New Zealand's famous for that clean, overtly fruit-forward style, with the herbal notes that blast you in the face. No subtlety there, but I was interested to see how the South Africans were handling it.

Turns out, not that well. Both wines were lean, not usually an issue with sauvignon, but in this case a bit overly so. Without body or texture, the wines are just shrill, a mess of green aromas and cheap fruit. But the New Zealand sauvignon wasn't that much better. Tropical fruits, pineapple and all that, with a marked sweetness on the palate.

A forgettable trio of wines. Sauvignon blanc does well in a lot of different styles, but personally, the benchmark I hold it to are the dry whites of Bordeaux. Handled in oak, they have all the aromatics and texture I look for in a great white wine. Well extracted acidity give some excitement on the palate as well as the ability to age. Don't want to stupidly put out any blanket statements, especially after tasting 2 (!) South African wines . . . but maybe they need a bit more time to learn how to handle sauvignon, and perhaps decide if there's a future for this varietal.

DF

I like poetic, obscure Italian wines

2010 Ulisse Unico Pecorino | IGT Terre di Chieti

We don't ask for our wines to be grand all the time. Just interesting. But I was in the mood for something just a bit more - more challenging, more thoughtful. I've upped the number of Italian wines drunk the past 12 months or so. Whenever I'm looking for something to get my head spinning, yet staying within budget . . . Italian whites seem like a good choice. Just please stay away from the pinot grigio. Oh God, stay away from pinot grigio. It's wine for the slobs who think they know wine. Or for the louts who think sounding Italian makes them more cosmopolitan - but really, how hard is it to say pi-not gri-gi-o??!!

Pecorino, always a bit of a trip. Traditionally, Italian whites never have much fruit. Acid and all that other funky rustic stuff. Incredibly nutty, in both aroma and palate, but that wasn't even its defining character. Starting with some citrus, floral notes, with an incredibly viscous, silky texture. Ends like peanuts and herbs. After 24 hours, becomes minty, greenish - fruit all but disappears. Slight impression of sweetness in the mouth, transitioning into something completely different. Then, after dinner, turns smokey, almost savoury . . . are we still drinking a white wine? Amazing, with so much extracted acidity, good length.

I can't remember the last wine I've drank that changed so much over 2 days, with air. Amazing. Just keeps transforming and developing, becoming more interesting, more complex. And all it is is a fucking country wine!?

2009 Grotta del Sole Falanghina | DOC Campi Flegrei

We continue with a falanghina. Fresh, ripe citrus, even some honey. Minerals. Focused on the palate, linear . . . seems weightless. And proves why these whites are so interesting. Starts one way, and suddenly shows a completely different character. You think it's just going to be simple, some fruit, high acid; then you get an amazing texture, amazing development in the glass. A good find.

2009 Manimurci Lacryma Christi | DOC Vesuvio Rosso | Campania

A Lacryma Christi wine to end off the night. There's so many versions of the story behind the name - who knows which one to follow. One about Christ tearing up about Lucifer, others about blessing Vesuvio. Whatever. The wine may be old and have prominence in Roman history, but it never was, and never will be particularly heart-thumping. Dark, slightly macerated fruit, almost herbal. Structured, grainy tannins. Some sweetness, well made - but as I'm discovering more and more, just not as exciting as the whites.

Something to say, some kind of purpose, some meaning behind it all. That's what we really want. There's lots of good wine, just like there's lots of good food and other shit. But interesting, exciting, with a story to tell? That's what we all need to be drinking/eating/talking more about.

DF

2007 Riesling Auslese Haus Klosterberg

2007 Markus Molitor Riesling Auslese | QmP Haus Klosterberg | Mosel

I adore riesling like you wouldn't believe, but sometimes you've just got to tone down the rhetoric and drink it for what it is. Because sometimes it's just a simple wine, with little else to offer than sheer fruitiness/sweetness that comes off as slightly whorish. The kind of cheeky, come-hither-finger, hey big boy, kind of thing.

Markus Molitor is a well-known producer of Mosel rieslings, owning vineyard parcels seemingly everywhere: just check out the full listing of sites they own vines in. 2007, a great vintage for German wines. Good ripeness, but more importantly, that spine of just electric acidity that defines what grand riesling is. Yes, it's almost a crime to be drinking auslesen wines so young. The only way to avoid that is, well . . . would you like to supply me with wines to drink while we wait for these to mature?

Fruit, sweet, ripe, friendly. Almost a bit too friendly, like that guy who thinks he belongs with every group, but really, belongs nowhere. Soft, leaving me asking - where is the acid? And if there's no acid . . . then what's the point of it all??

P.S. | I just came back from a jaw-dropping, poem-inducing meal at a Cantonese restaurant in Markham with an old friend who seems to know every single restaurant owner in the area. Need to digest it all for a bit - photos and all that soon.

DF

stout and all that

As a guy who's been working for a few years now, I was almost ashamed that for the past 3 months, I've had the same $40 in the wallet. It was money to be spent on groceries or booze - guess which way I went. But they do call this stuff a meal in a glass right?

I was sweating a bit. $40, to be spent on a certain Mosel riesling (~$17), and two 6-packs of stout. One was a no-brainer; sacrifices had to be made for the other. So, just squeezed in, with a few cents left in change. Booze before food, ftw!

Guinness Extra Stout

This is still the real Guinness, just brewed in Canada by Labatts. Black as night, with texture to match. Oh right, we were drinking this with hotpot. Or rather, I was drinking this with hotpot. Perfect weather to be drinking black.

McAuslan St. Ambroise Oatmeal Stout

A Montreal brewery, one of my favourites. Their whole lineup is strong, but the oatmeal stout absolutely wins every time, all the time. Rich and viscous, perfect in flavour and texture. Great depth. Fabulous head of foam, always a sign of a great brew. Incredible impact on the palate, wrapping you in a soft, warm embrace.

And in questions about what else to eat with it . . . good salumi and pig's trotters make a strong case for sheer gustatory bliss. Am I using that word correctly?

DF

PEI scallops

I had some friends over for hotpot last weekend. We did, among (many, many) other things, live scallops. I've never had these before. The fishmonger said they were from Prince Edward Island. Smaller, in size and skirt. Great marine flavours, texture. The 3 sauvignon wines we were may have been the dinner's one weakness. Too green, too tropical, too much of that lean character lacking texture and control.

I'd like to know how else to cook these.

DF

a day in the distillery district

Stepping back from it, those last few pieces have been a bit hateful. And like it or not, we are closing in on the holidays. Yeah, all butterflies and warm fuzziness from now on.

The office went out to Toronto's Distillery District today, to check out the Christmas Market. Fun day; rows and rows of shacks were set up along all the streets, showing everything from artisanal cheese to maple syrup, to handmade fresh wreaths. And just as we stepped out of Balzac's Coffee, the snow started coming down in big, fluffy clumps. We found the Ontario Spring Water Sake Co., perfect as I had just read somewhere about the Izumi sake being brewed. One great tasting later, I had 3 bottles in hand and already thinking of what seafood I wanted to serve with it.

On to lunch at Archeo Trattoria. Unremarkable in both food and service, but we did enjoy a bottle of Trius Sparkling Brut. Linear, focused, with some autolytic character on the palate. Great, and DVP less painful than usual on the way back. Big weekend of hard eating ahead - hotpot at a buddy's tomorrow, Cantonese restaurant on Sunday. Endless wine ready to go. DF ready to take holiday drinking on!!

DF

it's just a salad dressing!

My mother likes to put me in my place when I get a little too full of myself in the kitchen. Yeah, like, whatever. I'm all for listening and learning from people that actually know what they're doing. Not so much from those that are all bluster, little substance. She has this church friend. Nice guy, I'm sure. She says he went to culinary school and tried to convince me that I needed to follow his method for putting together a vinaigrette.

I hope he got his tuition money back.

We won't even get into how useless culinary school is. Did the great French chefs go to school for a cooking degree?! Not that I would hold this guy's background against him; after all, what's on the plate might tell another story.

I really hope he got his tuition refunded.

So at one of their church dinners, he announced to everyone that a proper vinaigrette needs soy sauce. So what do you get when you try to combine foreign flavours with each other, in what should be the simplest thing ever?? Well, the divide between geniuses and retards is but a thin line, no? A small quibble, maybe, about how to put together a salad dressing. But what could be more perfect than a simple dressing of (good) olive oil, vinegar, and sea salt? If you have an answer to that, you've got a problem.

So, no, don't put fucking soy sauce in your vinaigrette. Keep it simple. My God, keep it simple. Extra virgin olive oil, as raw as you can find, with a dash of red wine vinegar for an intense acidity, and good balsamic vinegar for depth. Sugar and salt to taste. Not so hard, is it. No need for a degree either; just some common sense and respect for ingredients.

DF

side by side in wine

I finally put these up in the kitchen. No one prints photos anymore. But the girl at Black's is so pretty I'm willing to do the extra work. And now I need something else to print. Side by side, wine photos that have a lot of meaning for me.

On the left, my first vineyard visit at Lailey, my first bottle of Marcel Lapierre Morgon, and my visit to the cellars of Champagne Ruinart. On the right, a set by ROKChoi. Tasting 2006 Le Clos Jordanne Pinot Noir, all love, all love.

DF

the lot number

The wine world is all excited over the whole Jay Miller bullshit. That fat slob has always been a terrible judge of wine, but this whole no pay, no Jay business is just filthy. The story was broken through some fabulous journalistic work by Jim Budd, at Jim's Loire. Reactions have been pouring in from some other noted names in the wine writing world, here, and here.

The rock has been lifted, and everyone seems disgusted by the vermin crawling underneath, but really, is anyone surprised? The nerve of these people to charge exorbitant fees for the privilege of tasting? I'm sorry, but that corpulent, slimy fuck is everything that's wrong with how the public perceives wine professionals to be. I imagine proper Spanish winemakers are singing and dancing in the streets. The ones who actually manipulated their wines (ripened to shit, overextracted, oaky brews) to match his palate and hope for a high score deserve to sit on their piles of undrinkable, unsellable plonk and weep.

Give this a few weeks to blow over. Who the fuck cares about Dr. Big J (yeah, he actually calls himself that). In the meantime, look at this . . . an Italian wine with the lot number printed on its label. Simple one too, a 2009 Falanghina from the DOC of Campi Flegrei in Campania. And if I'm interpreting this correctly, the lot number refers to a bottling date of July 2011. Still wine may not matter that much, but it's absolutely mind-boggling to me that this isn't standard practice in Champagne, where disgorgement and bottling dates actually do matter.

Bravo Grotta del Sole!

DF

what, the LCBO overcharges us?

This story just came out, and I'm sure we'll hear more about it in the coming days. The Auditor General of Ontario, Jim McCarter, has reported that the LCBO is incredibly inefficient in the way they do business. The report even hints at something more sinister - the LCBO isn't interested in minimizing supplier costs. In fact, it seems they purposely pay suppliers more, to ensure that the final retail prices of wines are higher. Wines aren't priced according to the market, but rather to the pricing structure that the LCBO marketing strategy determines. Evil.

Am I surprised? Not really. I suppose my first reaction at this point is . . . will this finally be the start of a serious move to privatize the LCBO? We don't need the extra tax, we don't need a Big Brother to police the whole social responsibility bullshit. The entire idea of the government controlling every aspect of alcohol retail and consumption is a slap in the face of a free market. And as a Toronto guy, I don't give a flying fuck if some hick in Waterloo won't have access anymore to an LCBO outlet.

This is just the beginning.

DF

the magnums of Faizeau

Faizeau Vielles Vignes, twice as much win in a magnum. See you in 10-12.

DF

adding to the collection

I've got a thing for stems. Wine doesn't need many accessories beyond a glass and a corkscrew, but without the right stem, you can never experience a wine to its full potential. That's certainly not to say that you need a different kind of glass for each kind of wine. Don't be fooled by glassmakers who try to convince you that if you don't have a different glass matched to each varietal, you're doing it wrong. Not for a second.

I use one glass to drink all my wines. Riedel Vinum, what they label as Zinfandel/Chianti Classico/Alsace Grand Cru. Whatever, but the stem is perfect in shape, size, and weight. Bowl just perfectly formed for all wines, from dry to sweet to sparkling. Expensive (for me), but not enough that breaking one would be breaking the bank. Every year, around Christmas time, I buy a few more to replace the inevitable breakages. When you've found the right one for you, why keep looking around?

That's not to say I wouldn't like to keep adding to the collection. Stems are my obsession, and I'd like to add two more specific types. One, with a smaller more angular bowl for Champagne and Sauternes/sweet wines. And another larger one for Burgundy/Barolo. Until then, Riedel Vinum for life.

DF

old wine and oxtail

We had a spirited conversation at home about exactly what part of the cow the oxtail was. It ended inconclusively - not even Google helped. In any case, the first bowl of oxtail soup was delicious. Toronto's starting to chill down, now that we're entering December, perfect for this kind of dish. With a mature 2000 gran reserva from Cariñena, dinner was a rustic lovefest.

Humble ingredients, all of it, but that doesn't mean quality isn't a factor. Everything was working great; the oxtail, the tomatoes, the garlic/onion. But the carrot just was not right, in flavour or texture. And yet another lesson learned that no matter how trivial or minor it seems, every single ingredient matters.

DF

stout on trotters

. . . wins every time. Haven't cooked pig's trotters for some time. Instantly reminded why they're the best.

DF

4 Year Anniversary

I don't really know how I feel about LCF turning 4. A lot of wine drunk, certainly. Every bottle, a lesson learned. Let's move on. The end of year makes some people reflective; be glad I'm not one of them. Looking to change some things, break out of the status quo. Easier said than done, but I'm working on it.

Many thanks. Much appreciation for the support. And from the top . . .

DF

snow!

We finally got some snow this Wednesday in Toronto. Not enough to stay on the ground of course . . . that won't be for at least a few more weeks. But enough to make the sky a blur of white, if only for an instant. We've had a good autumn. Warm, sunny days up to late November. Will this year's winter be another rough one? Here we go again!

DF

green onion flatbread

This is proudly a Shanghainese thing. Dough, green onion, oil, and salt. That's it, isn't it. And the way it's rolled ensures that each bite stays crispy on the outside, while yielding soft layers inside. This is traditional street food you can still find in Shanghai's older neighbourhoods; locals eat it for breakfast. I remember being amazed as a child, watching them flip and pull it out of the pan with their bare hands. Delicious on the street, even more so when you put in the hard work yourself.

DF