the ten year old Rioja

2001 Marqués de Cáceres Gran Reserva, DOCa Rioja

Eleven years ago when this wine was made - although technically, the wine was born towards the end of 2011, so ten years and a few months ago - I was beginning high school. Young, impressionable, clueless . . . yet somehow I thought I knew it all. We've all been there. So stupid. So immature.

My favourite class in the second semester was an art class called Media Arts. They let us play with digital cameras (giant bricks that you put 3.5" floppy disks in), Photoshop, iMovie . . . and taught us what art installations were. It was my first experience with non-Classical art, and in my first assignment for that class, I wrote I don't think this counts as art. A decade later, I still think it's questionable for the arts curriculum to insist that a bunch of 16 year olds learn contemporary art before the classics. What they don't teach you is that the most successful contemporary artists have a solid foundation in the classics - illustration, sketching, painting, etc. You can't just suddenly become conceptual without developing strong, basic art skills. It doesn't work like that, which is why our class produced students who were deluded into thinking that they were, in fact, artistic.

There are no shortcuts. When I send my piano students to performances and recitals, they sound magnificent on stage. It's a few minutes of glory, but what the audience doesn't see (or hear) are the hours and hours of practice, of technical exercises . . . of endless repetition and often, frustration. Fundamentals are everything. You can't become a artist/musician/whatever by showing up and trying to go right for the end product. You have to start at the beginning, and go through all the steps. Patient, methodical, and diligent work is not sexy (or easy), but it's the only way. As they say, it may take 100 hammer strikes to break the rock, but was it that 100th blow that did the job, or the preceding 99?

The last issue of Decanter magazine had an (excellent, as always) article written by Andrew Jefford, explaining exactly how oak is used in Rioja. The classification rules dictate the years that the wine must remain in oak and bottle before release. For example, Reserva wines require at least 1 year in oak, 2 years in bottle, and Gran Reserva requires 2 years in oak and 3 years in bottle; producers often age the wines even longer. What Jefford explained was that often, the wines are aged into several different types of wood before they're bottled. They may be aged first for a few months in new American white oak for toasty flavours and tannins, then into older French casks to allow for a subtle oxidation and a harmonious integration of all the parts. Or, the winemaker may experiment with casks of varying toasts. All very complex indeed, underlining the skill and precision demanded of the winemaker's palate. It's never so simple as simply sticking the wine in oak for 24 months, then into bottle. Good things take careful study and hard work. This particular wine, from a traditional producer of Rioja, is stunning. That gentle rusticity, that beautiful Rioja nose of strawberries and cream. Developing in the glass and with more air, becoming more complex, more refined, more singular. And at a decade old . . . it was worth the wait.

DF

the last of the mulberry wine

I'm having these crippling episodes of self-doubt and anxiety again. I look like shit, I can't sleep, drinking heavily again . . . and the real business hasn't even started yet! It's been a few years since I've graduated, and lately, it's becoming quite clear that if I'm going to make something of myself, as they say, I need to go back to school. So it's time to tighten up that sphincter and get to work.

I'm reminded of the last of the mulberry wine we brought back from the old country. My paternal ancestry traces back to the coastal town of Ningbo, about 220 km or so south of Shanghai. It's an ancient town, with a history going back to 4800 B.C., and was an important trading port through the dynasties. My grandfather left the town as a young boy, moving to Shanghai to work - he apparently never lost his accent. We still have (distant) relatives living there, and who run a farm. High up on my list is to go visit and work the fields and chickens they still raise. I hear their homemade rice hooch is a winner as well.

I've written so much about this, but mulberry wine is a treasure handed down to us by our ancestors, and it's a tradition we need to protect. Mulberry is native to the area, and locals soak the ripe berries in baijiu, the fiery rice spirit possessing upwards of 40% abv. If the mulberries are of good quality, the liquid turns purple, becoming sweeter and purer in flavour and texture. The alcohol absorbs into the berries, preserving them and giving the texture of the fruit an amazing crispiness. And done right, all it takes is 3 berries to knock you the fuck out. We Ningbo country bumpkins appreciate people who can hold their liquor. My last visit back home, I experienced first-hand what it means for our people to drink hard. Those motherfuckers don't play around.

Locals actually use this for medicinal purposes. Particularly effective for bad bouts of diarrhea, I've been told. Country medicine ftw!!

DF

looking forward to UGC 2012!

Something to look forward to! Yes, it's that time of year again when all the aristocrats from Bordeaux come to Toronto to allow us the privilege of tasting their sweet sweet nectar. I'm so excited, because in 2 weeks, the UGC will once again host a tasting of their wines, this time the vaunted 2009 vintage. The last 2 years, the red wines were certainly underwhelming. This year looks to be much different.

I've always been so impressed with the quality of dry white Bordeaux, and 2007 was a wild success for Sauternes. The reds? Really hit and miss for me - I've felt indifferent about them far more than not at these tastings. The prices being asked for them certainly play a role in that perception. But the 2009 reds are said to be amazing, and I can't wait to taste. Also, looking forward to meeting and talking with some of the owners and estate managers again! Plus . . . it's all on a Friday night. Who knows, maybe we'll see a repeat performance.

DF

The Celt Experience - beer and food

We want to take a look at these beers in a more natural setting; namely, the table. For individual tasting notes for each beer, refer here please.

It's almost a shame that beer is most often think of as being best enjoyed on its own. After all, few alcoholic beverages have the versatility to go with a wide range of foods as beer does. Wine certainly doesn't. Try to drink the wrong wine with the wrong dish . . . utterly disastrous. And unfortunately, wine and food can be tricky. Why do you think there are so many writers whose entire careers revolve around piece after boring piece about what to drink with what?

Just as the true winos have disproved the whole red meat with red wine, white meat with white wine absurdity, we have to get beyond the notion that beers are best ice cold and on its own. That's no good. So let's start now and make a conscious effort to drink good craft beers with food, and understand how different styles match different flavour profiles. Beer is versatile, so incredibly versatile with food. Savoury food, spicy food, all kinds of proteins, raw seafoods . . . start of meal, end of meal, and pretty much everything in between, beer can handle it all. The key is to know the style. And by style, we're really looking at the hop profile, the type of malt used, and what kind of roast was applied. So as long as we can identify the flavour profile of the beer, we can determine which ones to serve with any specific food.

Celt Experience Bleddyn 1075

Starting with the Bleddyn 1075, in the pale ale style. Really hop forward, with the bitterness rising on the finish. Bit of a higher alcohol too, at 5.6%, staying fresh and lean. With these types of beers, you want contrasting flavours. These bitter ales are really singular in both flavour and texture - those hoppy notes refresh the palate, and you want to eat food that wraps around that bitterness, not enhance it. So of course, common sense would dictate something either very rich, or very spicy. Rich dishes, meats or whatever you like, work because the beer cleans it all up in the mouth. You want your drinks to prep the palate for the next mouthful of food, letting you eat more than you should. Spicy foods - and whatever kind of spicy, chili peppers or peppercorns or whatever you're into - works extremely well. We do this poached beef tenderloin that's been tenderized in the pressure cooker, and eaten with a chili/garlic sauce. Spicy and almost numbing on the tongue, but a good pull of the Bleddyn 1075 cooled off the heat, with the hops taming that overt spiciness.

Not common, but I liked drinking this with seafood. We had these really fresh west coast shrimps, and simply poached them in salt water. Dipped in a savoury soy/sesame seed oil sauce, the hoppiness of the beer again seems to lift that marine flavour of the shrimp. With so many different flavours and textures of food around the table, a beer that cleanses and refreshes is very welcome indeed.

               

Celt Experience Golden (left) and Bronze (right)

With these softer, rounder ales, I found them more easy of a companion, just because the hops weren't so overt. We didn't exactly find the perfect food match (if such a thing even exists), but nothing didn't work either. The beers went lovely with the roast duck we were having, showing just as well with the homegrown bok choy and celery as well, cooked in the Shanghainese style. I love the warm roasted malt character, the roundness on the palate, and that slight hoppy lift on the finish. I'd imagine this to be excellent with a pan seared rib steak, whatever protein you like eating. The beers have an effect of both building up the savoury elements of the food you're eating, as well as finishing dry, key in refreshing the palate. It's that complementary thing you want to aim for - the beer and food aligning up in flavour profile.

               

Celt Experience Native Storm (left) and Dark-Age (right)

These ales with the heavier roasts are bit trickier, just because they can almost be a blanket on the palate, covering up more delicate flavours. But then you don't want your food to be too rich; if the flavours are both assertive, you're creating a brawl in the mouth. And that's no fun for anyone. Some say these stouts go well with raw oysters on the half-shell. I disagree, but then again I'm with the winos who swear by Sancerre and dry white Bordeaux (oaked sauvignon blanc) with shellfish. These richer beers, to me, are perfect for autumn flavours. Game, if you can find it, seared quickly with some thyme or rosemary or whatever you like. Mushrooms, oh yes. And my goodness, if you can find truffles . . . divine. What I like about these two beers is that the textures remain leaner and more refreshing. Serving the same function as acidity in wine, it's the texture of the beer that really determines how well it will pair with food.

Outlining specifically the dish that pair with each beer is a pointless exercise, and something that only food/wine writer hacks and wannabes concentrate. Context of how (and when and why) the beer or wine is being drunk is all important, not to mention the drinker's personal tastes. What we can do here is discuss some of the broader flavour profiles that seem to complement each style of beer, with encouragement that everyone experiments to see what works. And that's really the fun part right? The point I really want to make here isn't necessarily that certain styles of beer should only be drunk with certain styles of food. Rather, it's to make clear that fine craft beers deserve to be drunk with a meal, with loved ones, and with a sense of adventure. That's my point.

For friends in Ontario, this was shared with me by Rubaiyat Wine and Spirit - the availability of the following beers through the LCBO are as follows:

Celt Native Storm Crafted Ale, LCBO Item #260299, will be released as part of the LCBO's Spring Beers on February 26, 2012.

Celt Golden Crafted Ale, LCBO Item #224600, will be released as part of the LCBO's Summer Beers on May 20, 2011

Celt Bronze Crafted Ale, LCBO Item #236091, will probably be included in their Autumn Ales released in September, although this is not yet confirmed.

DF

The Celt Experience - Crafted Ale

In November, I got a message about this beer. Turns out it was from Tom Newman, the head brewer of The Celt Experience. He asked if I would be interested in writing about their full range of beers, and how they each relate to food. Samples would be sent over for me to taste. Rubaiyat Wine and Spirit Merchants stepped in and offered to bring them in for me. Things always work out when you have friends.

At first, the plan for this piece was to focus on pairing each beer with a specific food or flavour profile. But over the course of tasting and then drinking them over (a simple Chinese) dinner, it became evident that simply talking about what food to pair with each ale was not going to present a complete picture. As a wine drinker, I think it's more meaningful to dig a bit deeper and really examine what constitutes a fine beer (or if there is even such a thing), and the situations which call for a corkscrew, or a bottle opener.

So we tasted through the beers, in order of texture - to make sure my palate would follow a natural progression, we started with the hoppiest, ending with the most heavily roasted ale. Since Tom was kind enough to send me two bottles of each beer, for a total of 10, I was able to set up one as a strict tasting, and the other to drink over food. And let's quickly get something out of the way.

The beers are extraordinary, absolutely captivating.

Fine wine has certain tangible characteristics. Balance in fruit, acid, alcohol, and oak. A fine and elegant texture, and length on the palate. Structure to allow for aging and further development in the bottle. And of course, the intangibles . . . that true and authentic expression of terroir, the inimitable personality and character of where/when/how the wine was made. So how do we define a fine beer? Surely a set of different criteria needs to be applied. Beer, by nature, is a simpler drink. More dependant on brewing styles than any strictly regional tendencies - vintages also don't apply, and in most cases, aging containers are best when neutral. I remember a particularly vile oak aged bottle of Innis & Gunn that managed to taste more of wood than beer.

So how is fine beer to be defined? Balance, for one. Malt, hops, the quality of the roast . . . no single element overriding any other. Texture is also important, as is a dry finish. One thing I also look for in beer is harmony of its elements. What you don't want to see is the beer falling apart in the glass, where the flavour of the roasted malts seem to drift out, sitting on the top like a thick layer of caramel. Quality of its head of foam, how it laces the glass. Hops are also important too, not only in quality, but in balance. There's been a (North American) trend of making as bitter of a beer as possible. Bitterness is good and proper for ales, but so is balance. It has to taste like it belongs, not a shock to the palate. And finally, fine beer is not skunky beer. Unlike wine, rusticity in beer is not an indication of fine character - it's a sign that something wrong happened during the brewing process. I can't drink Belgian beers anymore, because they still insist on convincing you that skunky brews are good. Whether it's an issue of hygiene during brewing, or bad yeast strains, or maybe something a bit more sinister . . . stinky beers are no fun for anyone.

It was an absolute joy to taste these beers. All organic ales, each is given a proprietary name relating to Welsh history. I tried to frame each beer by general type: the Bleddyn 1075, a pale ale; the Golden and Bronze, examples of more traditional English ales; the Native Storm, a brown ale; and the Dark-Age, a stout. All of them low in alcohol too, an important factor in determining balance. All the beers hover around 4.0% alcohol, with the exception of the Bleddyn 1075 at 5.6%. The bottles are nicely packaged in the 50 cL format and each different beer is distinguished by the label colour. The back labels are very informative, giving drinkers a bit of background on the name, as well as how the beer was made. For example, on the Bleddyn 1075:

Bleddyn ap Cynfyn was ruler of Gwynedd and Powys and probably of Cerdigion and Brycheiniog as well, and undoubtedly the most powerful Welsh king. After his death in 1075, his sons were too young to rule, and his dominions passed into the hands of a cousin Trahaern ap Caradog. This delicious pale strong ale has an original gravity of 1075 with a high mash temperature leaving a fine full bodied texture. Generous US and New Zealand variety hopping gives a very bitter tongue, which is complemented by a crisp sweetness and a delicious citrus and grapefruit aroma.

To begin, I want to first share my tasting notes for each beer. All the beers were tasted at a cool temperature, but were not chilled. Final thoughts to follow.

Celt Experience Bleddyn 1075

What I see as the pale ale of the lineup. Bright amber colour, with a great rocky head of foam. Fresh aroma, sort of that freshly cut grain; fragrant. Hops begin on the palate, roars halfway and continues to the finish - just a tremendous wall of bitterness. Harmonious indeed, great transition on the palate, very pure. Compact and austere.

Celt Experience Golden

More leaning toward a traditional style of ale? Round aromatics, quite open on the palate. Hops bring balance and complexity, but don't intrude. Linear, and very well made. Palate shows same impeccable harmony.

Celt Experience Bronze

Darker in colour than the previous two beers. The roasted character is evident. Balanced hops, which rise every so slightly on the finish. Dry on the palate, very fresh. Good amount of richness on the palate.

Celt Experience Native Storm

A more traditional English brown ale, with that round, malty nose. Follows on palate, which starts with some sweetness and a good amount of soft texture. Pleasant and friendly, a warming ale. Hops rise only on the finish, gently.

Celt Experience Dark-Age

The stout. Fresh aromas on the bouquet - roasted yes, but hardly like the mocha char I was expecting. That richness does come up on the palate, good texture, but lean. Hoppy finish, maybe not as much weight as a Guinness, for comparisons sake, but no less satisfying. Friendlier with food, certainly - much less likely to sit on top of the food and obliterate any flavours.

So at the end of it all, have we answered the question of what makes a fine beer, and what situation calls for beer over wine? I think I have a better understanding now, at least with the first one. Fine beer is balanced, it's complex, yet has to retain a drinkability. And Celt Experience has all of those characteristics. All the beers are well made, and most importantly, are genuine. There's a sensibility to them that makes them perfect for the table, unlike certain West Coast IPA's that look to blow your head off.

As for when to choose beer over wine? That's a silly question. It all depends on context - company, mood, season, whatever . . . and as long as there are fine wines and fine beers to choose from, we'll be alright. Much appreciation to Tom and Becky for sharing their beers with me, and a hearty cheers to everyone at Celt Experience.

DF

looking back on the best wines of 2011

I'm not a very reflective person, but thinking about favourite wines gives me great satisfaction. It's been yet another year of wine. Lots of wine in fact. More humble bottles, certainly, but no less interesting. I've learned so much, making my Niagara tasting trips. But the highlight of 2011 must be my visit to Champagne in early May, walking some of the greatest cellars in the world. Much to remember fondly back on.

My favourite wines of 2011.

DF

Rubies on the Table, featuring 2006 LCJ Pinot Noir

2006 Le Clos Jordanne Claystone Terrace Pinot Noir | VQA Twenty Mile Bench

2006 Le Clos Jordanne Le Clos Jordanne Vineyard Pinot Noir | VQA Twenty Mile Bench

2006 Le Clos Jordanne La Petite Vineyard Pinot Noir | VQA Twenty Mile Bench

Our dinner was great. I'd like to think that the wines helped. These particular bottles are deeply meaningful to me for several reasons.

1| Pedigree, to start. This winery was hyped as Niagara's best, before its first vintage was ever on the shelf. Originally a partnership between Vincor and Boisset, a lot has changed in the short time since it's first commercial vintage (2005). The founding partners are no more - Boisset pulled out, and Vincor was bought by Constellation. The first winemaker, Thomas Bachelder, left and is now replaced by Sebastien Jacquey, the former assistant winemaker. There was even talk at first about building a fancy Frank Gehry designed winery - luckily, that plot has been planted over with vines. An interesting history, and certainly one of the leading producers of pinot noir and chardonnay, but the best? Let's separate all the hype and marketing bluster from what the wines actually are. And yes, the money put in by these giant corporations into marketing is extensive. A source in Niagara close to the operation told me that originally, the French side wanted LCJ to be a 100% pinot noir winery. They only wanted to produce red wine, because market research told them that North Americans are more willing to accept expensive red wines - $40 chardonnays just don't sell. Clearly, and it's becoming clearer with every vintage, chardonnay is the varietal of strength here. A compromise was reached to produce about 70% pinot noir and 30% chardonnay for the winery. A reversal of those numbers would probably have been a better decision (vinously, of course).

2| As a budding wino still in school, I was eager to begin putting wines away, as much as a poor student's budget would allow. Not much, but I was working on my terms off from school, and figured I could spare about $200 or so a term for collecting. And I desperately wanted LCJ in my cellar. 2005 Lailey Pinot Noir was the bottle that did it for me . . . just that epiphany in wine that sets the benchmark for all other Niagara pinot noirs. At the time, about winter or early spring of 2007, the 2005 LCJ's were being released. Even in little Waterloo, Ontario, some of the LCBO outlets were receiving 6-packs. And I was thwarted every time. Every single release, every single wine - I was just a step too late. Completely disheartened, I knew that I had to be better prepared. Who knew . . . a Niagara cult wine??!! It wasn't until autumn of 2008, going on until spring of 2009 that the 2006 vintage was released. First the Village Reserves, then the single vineyards. And finally, I managed to get them all. The whole thing underscored how much time and gas I was willing to spend to secure these bottles, but after going to about 7 different LCBO locations in Toronto over the 4 months or so that they were released, I got all the 2006 LCJ's, save for the premium ($70+) bottlings.

3| 2006 being a cool, waterlogged vintage, the wines were always lean. What attracted me was the purity of fruit, the mineral expression, and that beautiful floral/rose petal character I think of as a defining attribute of elegant, delicate pinot noir. Prior to opening them for this dinner, I had tasted the 2006 pinot noirs on only two occasions - one, the 2006 Claystone Terrace Pinot Noir a few years ago for dinner at the Hyatt with a friend. The other, May of 2011, when I tasted the 2006 Le Grand Clos Pinot Noir. And that was the impetus for opening the rest of my 2006's. The wine was beginning to fall apart. Browning and drying up, the acidity robbing the fruit of flavour and texture. Having tasted my 2006 chardonnays over the summer - Village Reserve, Claystone Terrace, LCJ Vineyard - I was hopeful. They were showing beautifully, if a bit oaky, and the Village Reserve Pinot Noir was promising as well. But of course, I wouldn't know for sure until those wines were in the glass.

I really shouldn't have worried.

All the wines showed the most beautiful, stunning bright ruby red colour, just luminous and sparkling in the glass. Almost breathtaking, with no loss in saturation, and just a slight browning in hue. Let's begin with the Claystone Terrace. Initially showing a hint of volatile acidity, it blows off showing pure fragrance, roses and cranberries. Fresh, but just beginning to dry out. Elegant and still grippy in texture, fabulous sweetness.

The Le Clos Jordanne Vineyard just gorgeous. Earthy, with great depth. Sour cherries and cranberry, but more overt ripeness developing. Lean and slightly sour on the palate, but with a fresh and fruity texture. Delicious, and the consensus favourite around the table. No need for a vote - just ask what everyone wants their second glass to be, right?

And finally, the wine I'm most attached to, the vineyard that I insist on visiting each time I'm in Niagara. A beautiful location on the Escarpment, high and overlooking Lake Ontario. An absolute jewel. Slightly more muted, and darker in colour. Minerals and just singing of rose petals. The delicacy of the wine is already apparent on the bouquet. Earthy and the most fragrant of all, lots of juicy fruit on the palate. Delicate and elegant, absolutely haunting. A wine of beauty.

I have a bottle or so of each left in the cellar; while beginning to decline (far too prematurely in my opinion), the pinot noirs are delicious. Fine and authentic. Not great wines, but absolutely true to vintage and region. And that's all we can ask for.

DF

Rubies on the Table - December 30, 2011

I was in the gastronomic equivalent of writer's block. And I didn't know how to get out of it. Eat out? Read a cookbook? Sacrifice a small goat? We have a (church) friend who claims to suffer from clinical depression. I don't mean to belittle what she's going through, but I have a sneaking suspicion that if tomorrow she found a briefcase filled with cash at her door, all her symptoms would go away.

It turns out dinner with friends was what I needed. Originally planned for my place, we moved over to a friend's, which worked out nicely. Close, and besides, I like cooking in her kitchen. Grocery shopping was a bit haphazard . . . I like doing these things with a clear plan in mind. But for once, my head was completely empty of what I wanted to cook. So went, almost by default as these things were, to beef and veg. It was an expensive cut of rib steak though - I can say that because I wasn't the one paying. And then I remembered that one of the shops had duck breast.

Dinner was great - a steady stream of food coming out, no rushing. And the wines . . . stunning glasses of ruby-coloured pinot noirs. I had wanted to open all my 2006 Le Clos Jordanne single vineyard pinot noirs in July, but things happened, and maybe it wasn't such a bad idea that I waited. We ate the day before New Year's Eve, well into the early morning. And I think I got some of that inspiration back.

Seared magrets de canard:

Quite possibly, the simplest method to eat duck breast. And every time, I'm reminded that I don't eat enough duck.

Pat the duck breast dry, then season the skin side with sea salt. Be generous. Skin side down in a cold non-stick pan. Turn the stove onto a low heat.

Over 15 minutes or so, turn up the heat incrementally until you see the duck fat render and begin to pool. It will begin to sizzle - keep the fume hood quiet so you can hear that glorious symphony of the duck cooking in its own fat. Check the skin to make sure it browns but doesn't burn. Once you get enough colour on it, season the meat side with sea salt, but be gentle. Flip. Baste the skin in its own fat, continuing to cook until the duck reaches the desired temperature. But keep it pink in the centre.

Out of the heat, and wrap it up in aluminum foil to rest. Thick slices. The skin will be amazingly crispy, the meat tender and gamey.

And serve with pinot noir.

DF

conversation, and the quartet of Tuscan wines

2006 Valiano Poggio Teo | DOCG Chianti Classico | Castelnuovo Berardenga

2007 Podere l'aja | DOCG Chianti Classico

2007 Geografico Montegiachi Riserva | DOCG Chianti Classico

2009 Tenuta San Guido Le Difese | IGT Toscana

The Chianti's were beautiful, singing of true sangiovese, dusty earth and ripe cherries.

We were cooking together and suddenly it just came out of nowhere: Green onion, you're drinking too much.

Well of course I am. I'm a wine consultant, aren't I? No you're not. Everyone's been saying you drink too much. Your aunts. Your cousins. Your friends from church. No, those are your friends. And really, everyone needs to mind their own fucking business. That's not a very nice thing to say. Everyone's worried about you. You starting drinking in the afternoon and don't stop until late at night. And you sleep until 2 in the afternoon. It's like messed up jetlag. I don't think it should be a surprise that I like to sleep. And besides, I'll just keep cycling forward until I get back to normal time again.

The Poggio Teo was showing deep minerality, developing a savoury quality with air.

Your great-grandmother was a fabulous cook. She used to store her soy sauce in those glass bottles with the metal wire stoppers. And she liked to drink a glass of Shaoxing wine or baijiu with lunch and dinner. Smoked too. She sounds amazing. You were her favourite. Most of the dishes we're cooking now are her recipes. We really need to get them down on paper or something. Document it all. Your grandmother hated that she smoked. Was upset about that all the time. You know, it wasn't considered proper for a woman of that generation to be smoking and drinking. She had bound feet too, no? And she lived until her late 90's. AND she saw the birth of her 4th generation. I would have loved to have a drink with her. Or a smoke.

The Podere l'aja was simply exquisite, just that authentic, gorgeous sangiovese character. Dusty tannins creating a truly singular texture, getting sweeter and sweeter and sweeter.

My greatest regret was not doing more for my grand old man. He knows you loved him. That doesn't lessen the guilt. I was too young to appreciate him when he was here. I was terrible to him. And then when I got older, there just wasn't opportunity to keep going to Shanghai. He suffered. I feel the same guilt. You know I place so much importance on food and wine and sitting down for a good meal. And I was never able to do that for him. Cook him some of the seafood and shrimp that he loved so much. Share some sweet wines with him. Sauternes and Tokay, maybe port. Definitely Champagne. He knows you loved him.

The Montegiachi, a Riserva, showing some wood and roasted notes, but possessing great depth.

You're turning me into an alcoholic. Is it so bad that you can recognize a Mosel on nose alone? I do love riesling. The true winos all do. And the alcohol is so low. Those Champagne cellars were amazing. You remember when I got so drunk after that lunch? Of course I do. You passed out in the hotel and wouldn't get up for dinner. I had to go back to the Cathédrale de Reims by myself. Well, you should have helped me with that bottle. We tasted all morning, then I finished at least 3/4 of that rosé Champagne, and then we tasted more in the afternoon. That restaurant manager must have thought we were important or something. He was so polite. He ran out to open the car door for us. Well, we did roll up in a black Mercedes and had our driver talk to them first. When you get rich I want a Mercedes. Two door.

And finally, the clunker - Le Difese. About three quarters cabernet sauvignon, the rest sangiovese - but somehow only a quarter of the character of the preceding wines. Begins macerated, just flabby, cheap. Begins to firm up with air, gets tighter, which somewhat saved its drinkability. But clearly sacrifices regional character for mass-appeal.

Sea cucumber and bamboo shoot:

It takes about a week, but prepare your dried sea cucumber by soaking to rehydrate, then washing and removing the intestines. Soften and texturize in the pressure cooker. Soak until it reaches full size, changing water daily.

Cut the bamboo shoots in thin slices. Julienne the green onion and ginger, and fry them quickly in a hot pan in vegetable oil. Set them aside.

Slice the sea cucumber into chunks - not too small. Quickly fry in the same pan with some oil, making sure it doesn't stick or burn. Add in fresh chicken broth, as clear as you can get it. Add your slices of bamboo shoot. Simmer over a low heat until the sea cucumber turns almost gelatinous, but still retains shape and texture.

Just before serving, add in green onion and ginger. High heat to bring it all together. A generous sprinkling of dried shrimp roe. And of course, season to taste.

Simply divine.

DF

sweets on the table

2005 Fonseca Late Bottled Vintage Port | DOC Douro

Today was the first day I've been back at the gym in just over 2 weeks. And it was as gruesome as I thought it would be. We'll get the conditioning back there, eventually.

These certainly didn't help. I never eat sweets, but it seemed everyday these holidays, it was some kind of cake, some kind of pastry. Good though. Variety is the spice of life, right? Kind of odd though, that I absolutely adore sweet wines. And what kind of winter would it be without port? Simple LBV port, hitting all the right notes. Pure fruit, good concentration and all that.

And the only thing requires a bit of thought? Make sure the wine is sweeter than whatever pastry/cake/butter bomb you're eating.

DF

our home cooking for the holidays

My mother leaves for Shanghai tomorrow, and I'm facing the prospect of living alone with my father for the next few weeks. To say we have somewhat of a volatile relationship would be putting it kindly. So I remind myself of some of meals we had over the holidays. Like the fresh dumplings we made, skins and all. Or the beef tenderloin dishes - one in a traditional Shanghainese curry beef soup, the other poached and served with a garlic/chili sauce.

Food-wise, we should be ok. We've devised a system where we share grocery shopping duties - he washes, I cook. And I handle everything on weekends. But in practice? We'll see. We'll see . . .

DF

what's to come soon on LCF

Really excited to be working on something a bit different for LCF. Please stay tuned!

DF

our 2011 New Year's Eve

2009 Perrin & Fils L'Andéol Rasteau | AC Côtes-du-Rhône-Villages

2008 Sonoma Junction Cabernet Sauvignon | Sonoma County

2008 Sella & Mosca Riserva | DOC Cannonau di Sardegna

2006 Château Fongaban | AC Côtes de Castillon

Back to work tomorrow! Depressed, but since I'm not the offspring of a business mogul, back to spreadsheets and deadlines. It's been a fairly subdued holidays, but I did get to drink myself silly. Not silly drunk, but I did have a few good hangovers. Going through the photos, New Year's Eve seems a bit hazy. I vaguely remember doing an interlocked arm wine toast with an uncle. It's going to be painful having to get up before noon (sometimes 1pm) again.

Sometimes great drinkability is all you want. No fuss, although a bit more pure fruit would be nice. And with these long dinners with so much food on the table, so much interplay between savoury, sweet, sour, and spicy flavours, pure fruit and high acid, with not too much tannin are really the way to go. Of course, in an ideal world, we'd all be drinking Champagne and nothing but Champagne with these kinds of meals. Maybe someday.

Our host always prepares the best, in terms of resources and time required. We walked in and the first thing I saw was a box of lobsters wriggling in the sink, before a bottle of beer was promptly shoved in my hand. Good man. We had so much food. Ending with lobster and sea cucumber. Great stuff, and of all these family dinners we've had over the years, this one ranks as one of the more interesting ones. One of the kids said he had hurt his wrist - one look by the aunties and it was quickly determined that it was a fracture. And when one of us gets hurt, it's everyone's business, so my father and another uncle dragged him into the car and drove him to the emergency room to get checked out. About 2 1/2 hours and a soft cast later, I (tipsy as fuck) went with my mother (she drove of course) to pick them up. Problem solved, and back to the wine and lobster!

So, we had quite a range of red wines on the table. I sampled all of them - maybe a bit too unabashedly. Meaning the bottles were never farther than an arm's reach away from me. I have to be honest, I don't really remember specifics about any of the wines. They all sort of blend into each other, the way larger volume wines from high production producers are. The Bordeaux was good, though maybe I shouldn't be trusted . . . I had forgot that we had even opened a 4th bottle. All that well-made, unremarkable yet solid red wine. Good. Because you shouldn't get drunk on bottom-feeding junk. It's still respectable when the wines are $15+. And just look at those glasses . . . surely you don't expect to be swirling and sniffing from those, do you?

2012 up and at it, here we go again!

DF

just like that

And in a flash, the holidays are all over. The usual routine is to bitch and moan about getting back to work, getting back to normal. But how come I feel so shit about it all? We've been getting better news from Shanghai . . . my grandmother's condition is stabilizing, but she's still in the hospital. My mother is returning in a few days for what looks like to be several weeks at least. What I don't understand is why suddenly everyone is telling her things she should be doing once she arrives. As if the person she'll be taking care of isn't her own mother. Don't presume to tell others to do shit that you aren't willing to do yourself. End of it all.

I was planning on catching up on some things today. Just not in the right state of mind. Depression? Maybe. Nursing a bit of a hangover from last night. I actually forgot that he opened a 4th bottle - at least I wasn't swigging from it. An interesting night, as far as New Year's Eve dinners go. Will elaborate, with photos, later.

Dammit. Been bitching about the same shit since 2009, and no end in sight.

DF

After the countdown

Here we fucking go again. Just got back home . . . I didn't get black-out drunk, but drunk enough. Love for all, happy new year friends. Somehow I feel like another drink.

DF