Dear Customer,
Do not interrupt me when I am assisting another customer. Would you barge into your doctor’s office while he’s examining another patient? You are not the only person in the world. Get over yourself and wait your turn.
Thanksgiving is, without question, my favorite holiday. Food, wine and football? What more could a vintage girl ask for?! But more than those things, it’s a day we stop to remember and share our blessings. And I am grateful my life is full of them. I have an amazing husband who loves and accepts me just the way I am. I have friends that take good care of me, even when I resist. I have parents that continuously inspire me and have always supported me unconditionally. I have three amazing, hilarious, supportive (albeit dysfunctional) siblings I wouldn’t trade for anything. I have an extended family I am honored to be a part of. I have a beautiful home. I have a stable job in a field I’mpassionate about that challenges me and brings me tremendous joy. And I live in a fantastic country, where I’m free to talk and write about anything I please, in spite of my sass and questionable language. Life is good.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Now, as the culinary part of the holiday goes, of course I’m ecstatic. And this is arguably the biggest, baddest, best day of the year for folks like me. There are so many awesome food and wine pairing opportunities! The trick here is not to play only to the turkey. We also have to consider the stuffing, the green bean casserole, the yams, the mashed potatoes. Then there are the audibles: Some families serve ham; my dad always made a pan of lasagna. Each family has its own traditions. And, in some families, we basically have to set out to please the masses, so in many cases a good Pinot Grigio or Chardonnay is perfect. But generally I’m most enthusiastic about off dry-whites and light to medium bodied reds. Riesling and Pinot Noir really reign supreme; but there are many interesting choices.
So, without further ado, here’s some recommendations for your Thanksgiving table:
Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!
The day before Halloween, a woman told me she was shopping for Christmas gifts and I almost fainted. “I’m not ready for this yet,” I told my colleague.
But ready or not, the holiday season is upon us. And when you work in hospitality and retail long enough, you really loathe this time of year. The added hours. The extra stocking, cashiering, bagging, cleaning. The stress and hassle. The headaches, backaches, footaches. Underpaid and underappreciated. Missing meals, missing spouses, missing social lives. And if you live in a winter climate like I do, the hours of extra time behind the wheel due to snow, lack of parking, and terrible drivers.
And for what? I miss almost every Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve dinner. My life is turned upside down. I can’t do my own holiday shopping because I’m working during normal shopping hours, and the last place I want to be during my time off is in a freaking store. I just want to hide under the covers. My family still doesn’t understand how difficult a time it is for me. I’m a bitchy zombie at home for a month straight. At work? My bosses work me to exhaustion and don’t give me a holiday bonus or a party. The sales expectations are ridiculous, although we exceed them every year. And the shoppers? Good grief. Most are hurried, stressed, crabby and haven’t done a lick of thinking ahead. “I don’t know if he/she drinks wine but I can’t think of anything else to give him/her.” Ugh. Maybe one in five customers is actually decent to me and grateful for my help. In over ten years in this business, one regular customer has actually given me a gift (a gorgeous $40 bottle of Aussie Shiraz that I’ll never forget.)
“There is nothing fun about any of this!” I want to shout, then punch the jolly smiles off shoppers’ faces. But instead I greet them cheerfully, help them choose the perfect bottle and send them on their merry way. My company does 23% of its business in the last six weeks of the year. And it sure as shit feels like it. Every single second of it.
I know I could have chosen a different profession. I could have holidays off, I could spend the time with my family, I could actually enjoy the month of December. But when it’s all said and done, there is at least one customer every year that inexplicably makes it all worthwhile. With a smile, or a handshake, or a genuine “Thanks Barb, Merry Christmas.” I hope this year is no exception, and I look forward to sharing that story.
At 6:01 PM on December 24th, when the last customer has paid and the doors are locked, I will say “Merry Christmas” and actually mean it. But until then, I’m just trying to get through the day without strangling anyone. Then I have six days of returns to deal with and mad NYE shoppers. So please understand if I’m a tad cranky this time of year. And don’t take it personally if I flip you off in traffic.
Happy holidays! Grumble grumble.
Dear Customer,
Do not just walk up to me and say the name of a grape varietal. “Hello” is a nice way to start a conversation. Or “Excuse me.” Or, you know, “OH MY GOSH YOU’RE VINTAGE BARB!!” But honestly, a furrowed brow and an “Uh, pinot grigio?” will illicit an unenthusiastic point of the finger and a desire to kick you in the shin. Learn some freaking manners.
Many of my regular followers (and when I say many, I mean two) have been chiding me for not posting lately. Hey, Vintage Barb is a busy gal these days. Working 40+, taking care of the new house, fighting off the flu, experimenting with a new ice cream maker… It’s all I can do to even keep up with the news. Not to mention follow the NFL. And frankly, sometimes thinking and writing about wine just feels like more work.
But the truth is, I haven’t been inspired much lately. When I get into a rut it usually takes a real special bottle of wine to awaken my enthusiasm and get my blogging blood pumping. This time, there was not necessarily one such bottle; but several great bottles, some darn good homemade grub, and some terrific company.
I hosted my first dinner party in the new house a couple weeks ago. I spent most of the previous evening and that morning prepping and cooking. I had plans for wine but invited guests to bring something to share if they so chose. My wonderful oenophile friends did not disappoint. Everything was really fantastic. The real standouts were a white Rioja I’d been dying to try, compliments of a conscientious and generous rep, and a 2000 Bordeaux a friend brought from his cellar. But here’s the whole selection:
October 24th, 2010
Desiderio Bisol “Jeio” Prosecco: A light, delicate and luckily, inexpensive sparkler from Valdobbiadene that’s always a perfect aperitif. Flavors of lemon, apples and sugar cane with just the right amount of fizz. We sipped on a couple bottles of this as everyone arrived and got to know each other. Also accompanied some nuts and prosciutto e melone. Delish!
Field Stone Gewurztraminer 2008: My dad sent me the newest vintage of one of my favorite FS projects. It was fresh, dry, and classically floral and spicy. It was quite nice with a light salad and almost perfect with my tuna tartare. We all wished for just a touch of residual sugar; in a do-over I would choose instead an off-dry riesling. But we enjoyed the wine nonetheless and agreed it would be better matched with a crab or scallop dish with slightly richer sauce.
Bodegas Palacios Remondo Placet 2007: This was the pairing I was most excited about. I chose this white Rioja for my potato and leek soup, which really brought out the smokey component. It was a very good combination, but the complexity of this wine really shone. It was creamy but balanced, with very distinctive melon, spice, peach and vanilla bean flavors. An enormous hit with everyone at the table, even the cola drinkers, with its only flaw being its $30 price tag.
Goldeneye Pinot Noir 2006: This wine inspired what may go down in history as the greatest thing I’ve ever accidentally cooked. I hadn’t planned a pinot course. I had debated for hours, knowing I needed something, but had been convinced by my spouse I was making too much food. Then, when more than one guest brought a pinot I knew I had to improvise. I had to give the people what they demanded! Luckily I’d bought some shitake mushrooms for my crazy vegetarian pal. So I ended up throwing together some farfalle with the sauteed mushrooms and a wave of truffle oil I’d picked up on the fly for no particular reason the night before. Sometimes things just work out. And there it was- after all my planning and prepping, this dish was ironically the best of the night. The pinot was, of course, a tremendous companion.
JC Cellars Rockpile Syrah 2004: Brought by a friend, this syrah was almost simply an afterthought. I opened it for the others to enjoy while I was cooking up some risotto. I poured myself some to sip as well, and was completely bowled over. Truly a remarkable syrah, with a lot of obvious new world flair. Several years in the bottle had softened up the tannins but the big, chewy wine was still driven by gobs and gobs of concentrated blue and black fruits. It could have slept in the cellar for at least another five years, but was quite exciting and impressive. I spared some for the main course and begged my guests to do the same. Ultimately, it was a fantastic accompaniment.
Clos du Marquis St Julien 2000: My friend arrived with this bottle around 5:30. We opened and decanted it almost immediately and didn’t touch it again until after 8. It was fairly tight and compacted, so a good amount of swirling ensued. What eventually came to life was an exceptionally elegant Bordeaux with all the trimmings: cassis, plum, spice, cocoa, a hint of licorice, and a slightly gamey quality that paired up quite nicely with my braised short ribs. A truly beautiful, albeit young, Bordeaux certainly worthy of its reputable sibling, Chateau Leoville Las Cases. Although, we did feel some of the subtlety was lost underneath all the sauce and spices of the dish, so I held some of mine and savored it once my plate was licked clean. A masterpiece!
Glunz Family Winery Angelica: This is a local company’s Sherry-style dessert wine I purchased a couple years ago on a deep discount and thought would be a nice finish to the evening. Very, almost excessively, rich and sticky, this wine was gushing with caramel and sweet nutty flavors. Not the best accompaniment to the rich chocolate chip bread pudding masterpiece I had created, but still very tasty. By the end of the long evening, we were all quite satiated, so the remainder of the bottle has made for fantastic leftovers.
All in all, I think it’s safe to say the first annual Vintage Barb Dinner was a success. I only have two regrets: One: Next time I will pre-cook the risotto. And two: I wish my new dining room table sat more than eight.
Dear Customer,
If you don’t know even part of the name of the wine you’re looking for, don’t expect me to enthusiastically assist you in your quest. ”It has a white label, and I think it starts with an M” tells me absolutely nothing. Would you expect success in any other market?? “I drove a car once and I want to buy that car but I don’t know what it was. It was black, it had four tires and I think I steered it with a wheel.” Or “I had a box of cereal six months ago in Florida and I can’t remember the name of it. It came in a box and was made from corn.”
Come on. Please, have a clue.
In my junior year of high school I was cast in my first musical. I fell in love with theatre, and over the next six years I spent every moment I can recall in theatre classes, researching roles and working on plays. I was versatile to say the least. One term I was dancing about as a jolly Irish woman, and the next I was trying to adjust as a concentration camp survivor. The next term I directed an Absurdist one-act play, and the next I played a witch with a vengeance and a wicked sense of humor (typecasted.) In my final and possibly most comical performance, I played a monkey. Although I focused on acting, over my college years I was also a stage manager, sound engineer, lighting designer, make-up artist and spotlight operator. I received many compliments over that time, but none of them sticks with me today as well as “I’ve never known anyone that could perform any role in any play the way you can.”
I don’t mean to brag; I am trying to make a point. Very few varietals are versatile in this way. But this month’s is quite an exception, extremely versatile, and is possibly the most intriguing of them all. One day it’s viscous, nutty, complex and elegant. The next it’s light, racy, tart and quaffable. Sometimes you’ll find a lovely sparkling version, distinctive but refined enough to compete with classic champagne. Then, just when you think you have it figured out, it’s dense, sweet, lush and sublime. It is perfect, depending on its mood, for any season and almost any occasion.
Ripening Chenin Blanc
This beautiful white varietal is the great Chenin Blanc. Once again, we look to France for my featured grape’s roots. It thrives in the slightly warmer parts of the Loire Valley, which incidentally, tourists claim is one of the most charming parts of the country. Here, chenin has earned a reputation for wines of amazing complexity and character. They range anywhere from bone dry to sticky sweet, depending on the region and the warmth of the vintage. In Vouvray and Montlouis, chenin is made into light to medium-bodied dry or demi-sec wines with vibrant acidity, and notable flavors of peach, melon, honeysuckle and sometimes a hint of wet hay. These wines are worthy of a decade or more of cellaring. In Savennieres, chenin is as dry as it gets and fairly full-bodied, with an almost doughy texture and flavors of almond and hazelnut. In Anjou, the extremely ripe, usually botrytised grapes are turned into amazingly complex dessert wines that rival the great Sauternes.
Outside of France, chenin is making a push in California where it’s now the third most planted white varietal. In South Africa, where it’s known as steen, chenin blanc makes up about a third of planted grapes . New world chenin is typically light and dry, with high acid and incredible drinkability. Because the grapes tend toward overgrowth, some of these producers create wines of little personality and zero distinction. This is an unfortunate but very real side effect of capitalism, greed and a failing economy. But generally, thanks to their great value, and enormous curb appeal, these sassy little whites have, over the last two years, launched chenin blanc into popularity.
But for today let’s consider one of my favorite styles of chenin: a three year-old demi-sec Vouvray.
Sight: On first sight can chenin appear quite similar to chardonnay– a vibrant golden with a pale hint of straw. But you’ll probably see slower moving, sticky legs and a fairly consistant rim.
Smell: Take a hayride on a damp summer morning through a field of freshly sheared sheep, honeysuckles, pear trees and peach groves. Reach into your picnic basket and pull out a very fresh loaf of bread and a jar of honey. This captivating combination is chenin blanc.
Taste: The first sip of this wine boggles the mind. It’s a bit of sensory overload mixed with the childlike fascination of Christmas morning. The flavors of quince, pear, melon and honey explode in the mouth, and the acidity makes everything dance a beautiful waltz on the tongue. Somewhere on the back of the palate there’s subtle viscosity and a hint of something earthy and doughy, mixed with sweet and exciting spice. Then, the lovely acidity once again kicks in and lasts on the elegant and scrumptious finish.
Pairings: Manchego with quince paste. Butternut squash ravioli. Lobster. Sushi. Spicy thai or cajun dishes. Fried chicken.
Recommendations:
$10-15: Man, Indaba, Dry Creek, Moncontour
$15-30: Pinon, Mulderbosch, Chidaine, Domaine du Viking, Langlois Cremant de Loire, Domaine Huet
Before you die: Domaine des Baumard Quarts du Chaumes
A couple months ago my stepmom asked me to help her find something special for my dad’s sixty-fifth birthday celebration. We going to have a “once in lifetime” sort of dinner at The Lodge at Torrey Pines in San Diego and we wanted to do something really unique. After a good amount of research and with a bit of a budget in mind, we decided to surprise Dad with a mini-vertical of Paulo Scavino’s Bric dël Fiasc Barolo.
A colleague who’s been collecting for a couple decades generously sold me an ’88 and ’89 from his cellar. I packed them very carefully and sent them off in my luggage, with a wave and a furrowed brow. Several times throughout the flight I worried not for my own life, but for the fate of those priceless bottles. I imagined myself on the shoreline, with the cast members from Lost, frantic over two bottles of Italian wine. When I arrived in reality in CA I eagerly found them still snuggled in their stryofoam amongst my t-shirts. I unpacked them and set them down carefully on my brother’s kitchen counter with strict instructions that sounded something like “Don’t touch these or I’ll kick your @$#%ing ass.”
The next day, observing all speed limits and taking each turn with extreme caution, I drove from Lemon Grove to La Jolla like this:
Buckle up, Paulo!
I arrived at Torrey Pines a little before sunset and took in the view. La Jolla is without question among my top three favorite places in the world. Then I very, very gingerly took the bottles from the backseat and walked through the lot. I fought back the anxiety of dropping one or both of them and tried to apply football’s four points of pressure technique. I made it safely inside and I gleefully handed off the bottles to my curious father. A round of hugs ensued, followed by a chorus of “I need a glass of wine” and we went into the restaurant.
The Lodge at Torrey Pines is certainly an experience. We arrived just in time to see the grandeur of the last rays of light shining on the fairway below, with the roaring Pacific just in the distance. The dining room was smaller than I expected, quaint and even a bit old fashioned, but extremely comfortable.
Our attentive server opened and decanted our Barolos for us while we sipped a superb demi-sec Champagne. The plan was to save some to accompany dessert. Yeah, right. We enjoyed our amuse bouche and ordered extravagantly. Sweet corn and crab soup for me, followed by an elegant seared duck breast with cous cous. Incredible! My parents shared something delicious I don’t quite remember and Steve had fish that wasn’t, thankfully, the salmon he almost ordered accidentally. The food overall was very good, although not wonderfully original or memorable.
The desserts however, were simply spectacular. To be fair, the pastry chef is the daughter of a friend of my parents, and was responsible for our royal treatment that evening. But what she sent us for dessert exceeded anyone’s wildest imagination. I remember figs, and apricots, a custard, and chocolate, and home made sugar plums…. plates and plates of creative gluttony that would put Willy Wonka to shame. I tasted each blissfully and flirted with both the remainder of the demi-sec and a fantastic 20 year tawny. If I were to re-visit this restaurant I would simply take in the exquisite dessert course.
Bric dël Fiasc
As for the main event. The wines were extraordinary, although the ’88 took longer to open up. Once it did, it showed violet, truffle and hints of rustic raspberry. It was soft and refined, although not extremely substantial. The feeling was that while delicious, this wine was teetering on the end of its long, illustrious life. The ’89, on the other hand, was truly remarkable right out of the gate. It still possessed all the power of a great Barolo, but had softened and evolved into a beautiful, elegant masterpiece. It still tasted of ripe, exotic berries, plums, red and purple flowers and something rich and stewy. 1989 was a stellar vintage in Piedmont and this was an eye-opening experience in what a difference a year makes.
We had an amazing evening at Torrey Pines, thanks to good food, great service and incredible (albeit too many) desserts compliments of the lovely Jennifer Costa. But mostly this night was all about Paulo Scavino… and my pops.
Happy birthday Daddy!
Dinner at Torrey Pines
