“American” Tuna Niçoise Sandwiches

Posted by Nicki Sizemore on Aug 25, 2008 in Recipes

It was a perfect seventy-five degrees outside, with just the faintest whisper of fall in the evening breeze. Turning on the stove was not an option, not with only a few more hours of sparkling sunlight left. Luckily, I happened to have a half baguette in the freezer, a load of market goodies, and a can of tuna on hand—but this was not your ordinary canned tuna. This was American Tuna, a brand comprised of 6 fishing families in San Diego who hand-catch and inspect their fish. As the company states on their website (www.americantuna.com):

All the albacore that we catch and process from the colder Pacific waters are specifically between the ages of 2-5 years old. Using the ‘hook & line’ methods allows us to monitor and inspect each catch. Mercury levels in such fish are at minimal trace levels, some non-detectable. The albacore we catch from the northwest has a very high oil content.

That’s my kind of company, and it’s my kind of tuna. A clean, pure, flavor unlike any other canned tuna I’ve tasted, and unmarred by worries of mercury contamination or environmental degradation. The sandwich was delicious, paired with a glass (actually, a paper cup) of Rosé and a gentle sunset in the park.

Serves: Makes 2 sandwiches

• 1 6-oz. can American tuna
• 1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
• 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar, plus additional for serving
• 2 tablespoons cold pressed extra virgin olive oil, plus additional for serving
• Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1/4 small sweet or red onion, thinly sliced, rinsed in cold water and drained
• 1/2 French baguette, cut in half then sliced open horizontally
• 2 small handfuls organic baby arugula
• 4 slices heirloom tomato
• 2 hard-boiled cage free eggs, sliced
• 2 tablespoons chopped niçoise olives
• 4 anchovy filets (optional), rinsed and patted dry

1. Put the tuna with its juices (there is no oil or water added to American Tuna; if you’re using regular tuna, drain most of the liquid first) into a medium bowl and break up the chunks with a fork. Add the lemon juice, Dijon mustard, red wine vinegar, extra virgin olive oil and salt and pepper to taste; stir gently to combine. Fold in the sliced onions.
2. Line the 2 bottom bread halves with a layer of arugula, followed by overlapping tomato slices and a few slices of egg. Sprinkle a bit of salt and pepper over the eggs. Divide the tuna among the sandwiches. Top each with chopped olives and 2 anchovy filets, if using. Sprinkle a few extra drops of vinegar and oil over each sandwich, then top with the remaining bread.
3. Wrap the sandwiches tightly in parchment paper; press down gently. Let the sandwiches sit for 15-30 minutes to let the flavors meld, just enough time to grab a blanket and get to the park.

The Feiring Squad

Posted by Kelli White on Aug 20, 2008 in Features

I realize that the wine world needs a new blogger like I need a new skirt of inappropriate length (How does that song go again? “Everyone can play guitar…”). That said, I’m excited to write this for the very simple reason that as I maneuver around in the wine industry I have a knack of encountering the most interesting people. People whom, by and large, are not writing about themselves and love dragging me about, lobe-first, on some rather grand adventures.

FOR INSTANCE….

…this past Sunday found me stomping around downtown with Wine Yenta and all-around-lovely L. Alyson Careaga who wriggled her nose, crossed her arms, and blinked us into the cute and cozy inner sanctum of renowned wine-writer Alice Feiring. Alice, a fervent naturalist and fellow natural redhead, was doing research for an upcoming piece on gamay.

For the occasion Alice invited a dozen or so close friends (and one hanger-on burgeoning blogger!) to her 4th floor Soho walkup, prepared a dazzling vegetarian feast, and divided 30 Gamays from around the world into four geographically distinct flights.

Now, I don’t generally truck with the strict-herbivore set. When asked, I proudly rattle off the parts of animals I indulge in as a dedicated traveler displays his passport stamps. Though if I had Alice Feiring as my personal cook, it might take a while for me to notice that meat was missing from my diet.

The apartment was warm and perfect and fit the hostess like a favorite sweater. All wines were tremendously well-wrapped– tiny Christmas packages complete with military corners. The attendees spanned both age and occupation, including a winemaker, his daughter, an importer, an actor from The Wire and the obligatory New York Video Artist.

Excited to help explore a grape for which I already knew I had a deep love, I plucked a glass from the table and dove right in– only to be slapped in the face by a sour saccharine nightmare! 12 wines came and went (the whole first flight) and not a winner in the bunch. No investigative treatise on Chiroubles, this was nothing more than a tedious domestic starting lineup! Surely this was some sort of cruel hazing ritual designed to alienate the new girl. But no, Alice’s intentions were pure; this was merely an example of the trials and tribulations of research meticulously wrought.

The next flight, my favorite of the night, featured gamay from the Loire. This was followed by Brouilly+Fleurie, with Morgon (plus one sneak-attack Rhone) bringing up the rear.

Gamay is a grape that I adore. Arguably best when young, it is bouncy and bright and light (when done right), has interesting aromatics, edgy acidity, funky earth, and great food applicability. So it was sad to see so many fluffy ho-hum gamays dominating the selections. This is not to say that there weren’t any shining stars…

For me, the two most winningest wines were:

2007 Clos Roche Blanche (Touraine, Loire)– a beautiful pink peppercorn and spicy radish nose. In the mouth, the bright blue raspberry fruit was perfectly balanced by a brilliant acidity and a sense of freshly grated clove dominated the finish.
2005 Domaine Romaneaux-Destezet “La Souteronne” Gamay D’Ardeche (Rhone)– a lean, mean, herbal machine. Dried thyme, black cherry and that lovely gamay pepperiness combined to form a perfect match for the epoisse bread I was stuffing my face with… I mean delicately sampling.

Also amazing:
2004 100% Julien Courtois (Touraine, Loire)
2006 Laurent Martray Corentin (Brouilly, Beaujolais)

…After these 4 highlights, 23 of the remaining wines drunkenly walked the mediocrity median, ranging from the almost-really-good to the nearly-terrible. Of the whole tasting, 3 (and only 3) wines were truly terrible and they were ALL FROM GEORGES DUBOEUF. Big and fruity and ghastly and confected… Not only does the emperor have no clothes, he has a giant banana where his codpiece should be!

(for those missing the inside joke, google “banana yeast”+Duboeuf for the reference)

After the identity of all the wines were revealed and discussed, our hostess, her tribe, and the drinkable wines retired to the kitchen where plates were heaped and thirsts, thus far academically tantalized, were slaked.

Then suddenly, from the buzzing chatter of mingling strangers, burst the sweet school-marmish throat-clearing of one Alice Feiring. Urged on by relentlessly inquiring mind AC, studiously shy Alice transformed into a bespectacled whirling dervish of literary enthusiasm! Pirouetting her fingers through the pages of several favorite Philip Roth novels, AF read aloud to an audience as excited by the chance to experience this unplumbed side of their hostess and friend as to marvel over the fine fiction stylings of Mr. Roth. And then, like a spent match, and seemingly startled by her own outburst, Alice retreated to the comforts of wine, opening a gorgeous bottle of 2006 Clos de la Roilette (Fleurie) and busied herself with the kissing of goodbyes.

Toxic Sting

Posted by Jonathan Russo on Aug 19, 2008 in Features

So many of the environmental warnings we receive seem abstract. Aside from the strange weather most of us are experiencing or if you happen to be breathing the air in China, the continual degradation of the environment often passes insidiously unnoticed. You don’t die immediately from pesticide infused vegetables or Bisphenol-A in your plastic water bottles. Sea levels rise in centimeters per decade and the loose ice sheets are thousands of miles away.

Clearly, we have a less than in-your-face relationship with the toxicity in our environment… until it literally, as happened to me, stings us in the face.

Other than food and wine, my great passion is sailing. I do it as often as I can. For twenty years, a great friend and I have headed off on a weeklong sailing trip to the lands and islands north and east. One of the greatest pleasures of these trips is swimming in the bays and harbors where we anchor. Not this year. The waters are filled with toxic stinging jellyfish (Cyanea capillata) that have multiplied beyond anyone’s imagination. Yes, in years past there were jellyfish here and there, or a bloom for a week or so, but now there are billions of them stretched out for over a hundred miles of our sailing grounds.

The causes are multi-faceted: the collapse of predators like sea turtles wiped out by beachfront development; over-fishing, causing a vacuum for the jellyfish to fill; pollution runoff from farms and cities increasing the nitrogen in the water; not to mention global warming which gives the jellies a hyper-reproductive green light and a warm feeling all over.

The New York Times just did a front page story on the ecological and economic havoc that the jellyfish bloom is having all over the world. Swimmers are actually dying from new and rare jellyfish attacks.

So the eco-crisis has hit me where it hurts, it has made my world smaller and less fun. On a global level it’s a small thing versus the expanding Sahara, California wildfires, or the Australian drought, but it’s real to me.

The lesson I learned, the musings I had while drinking Mas de Gourgonnier, Mouries Provence, a long-time favorite organic rosé (the wine’s hue is an art form in itself), at dinner in each new harbor was this: It is the sum of all tiny acts that create either health or death. When one person drinks non-pesticide, herbicide and fungicide laden wine, it will not help or heal the earth. But, if every wine drinker acknowledges their personal responsibility to stop harming the planet and follows suit, it will make a difference.

A primitive life form, the jellyfish, has now shown us that if we don’t respect the earth’s soils and waters and stop polluting them, we can and will be stung globally in toxic profusion. There will be nowhere to swim. Drink only organic and biodynamic wines please. Save the planet and yourself.

Tres Sabores Zinfandel

Posted by Deborah Gavito on Aug 17, 2008 in Counter Restaurant Videos

Julie Johnson discusses the Zinfandels from her Tres Sabores winery.

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This series of videos is brought to us by Deborah Gavito of Counter Restaurant.

Reyneke Sauvignon Blanc, WO Stellenbosch, South Africa. 2007

Posted by Paul Howard on Aug 3, 2008 in Reviews

Johan Reyneke’s family purchased a rundown property called Uitzicht in 1988. This is in the heart of South Africa’s Cape winelands, in the Polkadraai Hills to the west of Stellenbosch. After Johan took over from his mother he made the first wines under the Reyneke label in 1998.

Uitzicht was initially farmed using convention methods. Self taught as a winemaker, Reyneke had studied environmental philosophy at University and this, together with an encounter with the wines from biodynamic guru Nicholas Joly, gave him the impetus and determination to move to natural methods of wine growing for his Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Shiraz, Pinotage and Sauvignon Blanc.

His first experiments with organics were unsuccessful but Reyneke persevered. He went fully organic in 2001 and commenced biodynamic conversion in 2003. This process took a further three years to complete and Uitzicht is now certified as organic and biodynamic and has grown to 35 hectares. Reyneke is regarded as a biodynamic pioneer in South Africa, offers advice to other wineries and is a member of the prestigious “return to terroir” group of wine growers.

What of this super-sauvignon? All the auspices are good; as well as biodynamics careful winemaking techniques are employed to produce a premium white wine that demonstrates a clear sense of place. Wild yeasts are used for low-temperature fermentation in stainless steel and the wine is left to mature for six months on the lees. In the cellar there is no addition of enzymes or fining, racking is timed to the biodynamic calendar and the use of sulphur as a necessary preservative is admirably low.

A pale yellow-gold in colour, explore those aromatics before taking that first sip – there are nettles, elderflower, citrus and gooseberry to linger over. The first taste gives an immediate impression of balance – zesty acidity and nicely restrained alcohol. Layered pure fruit flavours are presented with satisfying intensity, with nothing raw or sweaty and no oak to get in the way. Green fruits – greengage and gooseberry – are interleaved with that herbaceous character so typical of Sauvignon Blanc. Slightly pétillant, there’s elegance, understatement and a long dry finish to complete the package. Style wise, this wine really shows just what South Africa can do with this grape it’s in the right hands – it sits nearer to Sancerre’s elegance than New Zealand’s pungency.

Drinking perfectly now and over the next year or so, try it either as an apéritif or with shellfish. I matched it with a simple open sandwich. Fresh homemade bread with organic free range chicken in light mayonnaise topped off with a salad garnish made for a delicious pairing.

Coda: the workers at Reyneke own a 24% share in the farm and take advantage of winemaking, marketing and business training as part of a Black Empowerment project. How cool is that?

A great advert for biodynamics and terrific value too, this is a wine likely to gain a deserved cult following. Meanwhile I’ll be looking out for Reyneke’s red wines as well.