Vouvray is like the girl with the Scarlett Johansson sweetness, Bette Davis wit, and knockdown Grace Kelly beauty that made all the boys in high school too dumbfounded to ever ask out (except for the dumb jocks, who’d never get a yes).
Vouvray is a thinking man and woman’s white wine because it takes brains to see through the flowery, intoxicatingly perfumed qualities of the Chenin Blanc (the required grape of this AOC), and look into the wine’s soul: the effortlessly acidic spine of the fruit grown in the Loire River Valley’s cold yet maritime moderated climate, and the deep, almost poetic substrata of flavor contributed by the soil (layers of flinty stone and clayish limestone over a plateau of solid limestone – the ultimate grape growing medium).
Earlier this month I ran into one California’s more intelligent, and artistically multiplisitc, winemakers named Larry Brooks (a founder of Acacia, former GM of Chalone, and now proprietor of Campion). I hadn’t seen Brooks in about six years, but the first thing he said to me was: “Everytime I see you, I can’t help but think of that incredible wine we shared, what, over fifteen years ago? I’ll never get that wine out of my mind.” Me, too. It was, in fact, a 1989 Vouvray Moelleux Cuvée CC by Champalou – a dessert style Vouvray exploding in a plethora of honey, scintillating acidity and minerality in spades– that will always bewitch both Brooks and me (and undoubtedly, is still doing that to wine drinkers today… I doubt that it would fade sometime soon).
Which brings us to our organic wine match of the day: the 2007 Domaine Vigneau-Chevreau Vouvray Sec Cuvée Silex (about $21; distributed by Andy Lum’s Unity Selections in Colorado). Sec refers to this Vouvray being “dry,” and Cuvée Silex refers to the flinty stones that make up a large part of the vineyard’s chalky soil, contributing a minerally, almost sea-briny nuance beneath the Vigneau-Cheveau’s honeyed apple aroma, wildflower fragrance, and mildly tart, lush, flowing, refreshingly balanced, medium bodied feel on the palate.
There is, in fact, a strong sense of terroir in the Cuvée Silex because this 69 acre vineyard has been cultivated more than organically, but also biodynamically for most of the past twenty years (receiving ECOCERT’S biodyvin certification in 1999); very much akin to the vivid, penetrating expressions of minerality and grape common to other biodynamic producers in France (some famous examples: Maison Chapoutier in the Rhône Valley, Domaine Ostertag and Marcel Deiss in Alsace, and Domaine Leflaive and Domaine Leroy in Burgundy).
Biodynamic viticulture demands turning vineyards into biodiverse farms, and applications of no less than nine specific herb and compost tea preparations in harmony with the natural rhythms of the earth, sun, moon, and seasons, observed as faithfully as the farmers who have followed the Old Farmers’ Almanac for over 200 years. But if there ever was ever any doubt about the efficacy of biodynamic growing, a simple comparison of Vigneau-Chevreau’s Vouvray with any number of other popular Vouvrays would put it to rest.
My culinary mantra has always been to fear no wine and food match: there is a perfect wine for any dish from any part of the world (I don’t believe there’s such a thing as a wine-unfriendly dish – only a lack of imagination and organoleptic openness), just as there is a delicious food match for every wine in the world. But with a wine as pure as Vigneau-Chevreau’s Cuvée Silex, I’d almost want to stick to an equally pristine, terroir expressive food match: like an artisanal, regional cheese. It needn’t be from the Loire Valley, although a Sainte-Maure de Touraine AOC goat milk cheese, coated in a slightly acidic, gunflint-gray ash, offers up an earthy purity of taste and zestiness in perfectly natural balance with this Vouvray’s earthy, crisp edged fruitiness.
Here in Colorado, I’d reach for a raw milk cheese like Windsor Dairy’s Melville; a cow’s milk cheese with a cider washed rind that positively bursts with fat, creamy flavors, with nuances of the native grass and wildflowers consumed by the Brown Swiss cows on this organic farm. Sprinkle a tiny bit of cumin on the Melville, with dabs of honey on the plate, and you’ll have wine and food match that doesn’t come down from heaven, but up from the earth so strongly expressive in both wine and cheese.
Otherwise, fresh, pearly white Chèvres like Colorado’s Haystack Mountain, Tennessee’s Bonnie Blue, Alabama’s Belle Chevre, and Georgia’s Sweetgrass Dairy (I guess you can tell that I’ve spent some time in the South in recent years) will all offer that combination of acidity and earthy, grassy fruitiness to effortlessly match this style of Vouvray. My only caveat: other than ash, steer gently away from logs crusted with pungent herbs or cracked peppercorn. You’ll want an unfettered taste of the terroir in the cheese; and generally, simple accompaniments like figs, champagne grapes, ribbons of dried apricot, or umami rich charcuterie like duck prosciutto and pork rillettes will do just fine.
I have seen multiple stories recently of how strong the organic/biodynamic wine niche remains even during these turbulent economic times. It’s true that this is a very heartening overall trend in the U.S., that people are paying attention to what they put into their bodies.
But I think this trend is somewhat due to the fact that Organics has finally developed sex appeal.
Let’s start with the surface level, as one usually does. Compare the rosy, plump organic apples available today with the withered, pockmarked organic produce of recent history.
Same goes for wine where we used to have only oxidized, poor quality organic wines available, but now that hundreds of well respected wineries around the world have fully embraced organic and biodynamic grape growing, we are experiencing amazingly silky, stunning wines.
I went to The Ten Bells wine bar in lower Manhattan this week. Ten Bells is a true French style wine bar. There are similar venues throughout Paris. Small, sexy, convivial and crowded. You are there to talk loud, laugh long, eat and drink with gusto.
A relatively limited food and wine selection but all of exceptional quality and highly recommended. Ten Bells focuses on organic and biodynamic wines. The staff were gruff but tender and authentically passionate about their chalkboard menu. I felt absolutely confident to put myself in their very capable hands.
I wish I could have gotten a good photo of FiFi, our wonderful host. But Ten Bells is dark and hectic. He was gorgeous, charming and smelled delicious. He suggested the Catherine and Pierre Breton Bourgueil and I knew he was the man for me.
We drank the Catherine et Pierre Breton Bourgueil Trinch! 2007. $17. It had crunchy red fruit flavors, touch of minerality and fennel. Easy to find online and very easy to drink with charcuterie.
On the very same historic day that the White House planted its first vegetable garden, I received my first organic seeds in the mail. It was a day that was a long time coming. Finally (!) our government appears to be recognizing the irrefutable link between food and our environment, our health and our community systems. Finally (!) I get to plant my first garden, something that I’ve dreamed about ever since I was a kid and later became a chef (now finally a possibility since I’ve moved out of the city). Oregon Trail Shell Peas, Dinosaur Kale, Palermo Bush Bean, Zefa Fino Florence Fennel, Cocozelle Bush Zucchini… just typing these words sends my heart racing and mouth watering!
But wait.
Will the First Lady’s symbolic message really be absorbed by a nation that has long supported (and literally been consumed by) cheap, industrialized foods? Will my beloved vegetables ever even reach my mouth? (I should admit that I have never grown anything from seed before and can hardly keep the poor plant in my office alive.)
I will remain hopeful. Spring is here, after all, and this is the perfect time to believe in renewal, both for our nation and for the bare 14×14-foot plot of dirt outside my kitchen window. I’m perfectly aware that I probably have wispy fennel fronds clouding my vision, but I feel invigorated, like a taking gulp of fresh stream water after a winter of drinking sludge.
Our garden might be a puny postage stamp by White House standards, but the vegetables will be just as delicious. That is, if they grow. (If you have any advice, Michelle, I’m all ears.) Only time will tell if this little plot of dirt will lead to the luscious bounty I’ve been fantasizing about, or if our nation’s policies will start to reflect the symbolic spirit of the first White House Garden.
Two weeks ago President Obama threw his first White House dinner for the political elite. He had the state governors over. President Obama served organic wine. Yes, our new President, a man who loves wine, and has his own wine collection, chose to do the right thing and not poison his guests. Obama served three wines: a California Spottswoode, Oregon’s Archery Summit and Michigan’s Black Star Farms ice wine. We’ve had a grin on our face for weeks after learning the news. Why? Because we believe events like this will make the country understand that drinking organic and biodynamic wines is the right thing to do.
They are the right thing to do for their terroir-focused flavors and tastes. They are the right thing to drink because they don’t poison farm workers, earthworms, birds and insects. They are the right thing to drink because they don’t add toxic pesticides, herbicides and fungicides to the land and the water that irrigates it. Clearly President Obama “gets it” and understands that as part of raising the consciousness of all we eat and drink “going organic” includes wine as well as food.
This is a shot across the bow to conventional wine makers and other poisoners of the environment. Obama has come through for Organic Wine Journal readers.
I admit it, I have a crush on wines from northwestern Spain.
Maybe I am drawn to the romantic visions of rugged winemakers toiling in the cool coastal weather. Or maybe it’s because I am a seafood fanatic and this region is famous for it’s world class treasures of the sea.
Or perhaps it is the fact that the most famous grapes from this region, Albarino and Mencia, almost always perform admirably in every price range.
I am virtually never disappointed by the crisp apple flavors of Albarino or the mineral laden, blueberry notes of Mencia. Seriuously, if you find wines made from either of these grapes at a restaurant or wine shop, buy them with a sense of security.
The Petalos 2007 is made by Descendientes de José Palacios. Gorgeous dark floral aromas, like violets. Tangy blueberry flavors and a firm minerality (like you get from some mineral waters) that holds it all together.
This wine is made with 100% Mencia grapes from the Bierzo region. The grapes are grown using biodynamic viticulture. Biodynamics involves organic grapegrowing practices plus many extra steps to insure the land is self-sustaining.
Alvaro Palacios is the winemaker. He is considered an iconoclast in the Spanish winemaking world. Alvaro took a chance on the then unknown Priorat region of Spain in the late eighties. And he has taken another well educated bet on the Bierzo region where the Mencia grape is grown. He also practices biodynamic viticulture, which firmly puts him in the domain of wine industry iconoclasts and romantics.
For Pierre Morey – the former (and legendary) winemaker of Domaine Leflaive, and proprietor of his own Domaine Pierre Morey in Burgundy, France – farming biodynamically (his vineyards Biodyvin certified since 1997) is a matter of stewardship: turning over vineyards from one generation to another at the peak of health and productivity.
Morey is particularly known for his white wines, with family holdings in Meursault and Puligny-Montrachet in Burgundy’s Côte de Beaune, the original home, and center of the universe, as far as any producer of Chardonnay is concerned. But if you are drawing the conclusion that these white wines espouse enormous body, power and concentration of Chardonnay character, let me gently say: it is in the expression of the terroir, rather than grape, that the wines of Domaine Morey excel.
You may pay, for instance, about $94 (suggested retail) for a bottle of 2006 Pierre Morey Meursault, but what you get is not a wham-bam wine stuffed with “gobs” of sweet Chardonnay sensations, but rather a wine of uncommonly delicate, refined balance and texture; everything according to a moderately weighted scale to express fresh, honeyed apples, notes of mineral, slivers of toasted nuts, and a transparent, silken backdrop of mildly charred oak draped over a foundation of polished, stony dryness.
In other words, a taste of Meursault, not Chardonnay.
Which also happens to whet my appetite for this twist of the classic Burgundian dish — usually made with a red wine, but which we make a white — that we call Coq Au Vin Blanc:
8 pieces chicken thighs (mostly) and legs (or one 5 lb. chicken, cut in serving pieces)
24-30 pearl onions
Salt and fresh ground black pepper
6 oz. bacon strips or slab, squared or cubed
8 oz. button mushrooms, quartered
1 tbsp. unsalted butter
1 bottle (750 ml.) white wine (inexpensive Chardonnay will do)
1 medium yellow onion, quartered
2 stalks celery, quartered
2 medium carrots, quartered
3 cloves garlic, crushed
6-8 springs fresh thyme
1 bay leaf
2 cups chicken stock or broth
Cut off root end of each pearl onion and make an “x” with knife in its place. Bring 2-3 cups water to boil and drop in the onions for 1 minute. Remove onions from pot, allow to cool, and peel (onions should slide right out of skin). Set aside.
Blanch bacon briefly in boiling water; drain, and dice or cube. Fry to render fat; remove meat and set aside, and save fat for frying.
Sprinkle chicken pieces on all sides with salt and ground pepper. Place chicken pieces, a few at a time, into a large (1-2 gallon) sealable plastic bag along with flour; shake to coat chicken completely. Remove chicken from bag, and fry in bacon fat, just until crust is crisp. Set chicken pieces aside.
In same pan, add pearl onions to fat, sprinkle with salt and pepper, sautéing until lightly brown (approximately 8-10 minutes). Remove onions from pan and set aside. Transfer chicken into a 7-8 quart enameled cast (like Le Creuset) or cast iron Dutch oven.
Add mushrooms to the same 12 inch sauté pan, adding 1 tbsp. butter if needed, and sauté until liquid is released (approximately 5 minutes). Store onions, mushrooms and bacon in airtight container in the refrigerator until ready to use.
Pour off remaining fat and deglaze pan with approximately 1 cup of wine. Pour this into Dutch oven along with chicken stock, quartered onion, carrots, celery, garlic, thyme and bay leaf. Add all of the remaining wine. Preheat oven to 325° F.
Place chicken in oven and cook for 2 to 2½ hours, or until chicken is tender. Maintain a very gentle simmer and stir occasionally.
Once chicken is done, remove it to a heatproof container, cover, and place in oven to keep warm. Strain the sauce in a sieve and degrease (discard carrots, celery, thyme, garlic and bay leaf). Return the sauce to a pot, place over medium heat, and reduce by 1/3 (depending on how much liquid you began with, this should take 20-45 minutes).
When sauce has thickened, add pearl onions, mushrooms and bacon, and cook another 15 minutes or until heated through. Taste and adjust seasonings if necessary; remove from heat, add the chicken and serve. Serve from Dutch oven with either long grained white rice or lightly buttered egg noodles; and of course, with a classic white Burgundy such as Meursault.
Note: if sauce is not thick enough at the end of reducing, you may add a mixture of equal parts butter and flour kneaded together, starting with 1 tbsp. each. Whisk this in the sauce for 4-5 minutes, and repeat if necessary.
I admit it, I have a crush on wines from northwestern Spain.
