Nicolas Joly talks about when he started practicing biodynamics, why it may seem crazy to people at first and the how modern farming is different. Part 1 of our interview filmed at Appellation Wines & Spirits in New York.
Dr. Martin Tesch runs Weingut Tesch these days. It has been family-owned and run since 1723 and the estate is a member of the prestigious VDP (Verband Deutscher Prädikats – und Qualitätsweingüter), a century-old association of some 200 German wineries dedicated to excellence.
In his mid-thirties, Tesch is a microbiologist by training but a winegrower by inclination. Since taking over the estate in 1996 he has presided over the most fundamental changes to the wines and vines since the Knights Templar first created these Nahe vineyards over 700 years ago. His story is one of a relentless pursuit of a singular vision. This is the story of Weingut Tesch – a triumph of terroir over adversity.
Tesch is based at Langenlonsheim, a small village in the Nahe region of Germany. The town is twinned with the English town of Potton in Bedfordshire. Curiously, Potton is where I spent my teens and while both towns are founded on agriculture I can discern no connection between Riesling, the world’s greatest white grape and Brussels sprouts, a much maligned vegetable. But I digress.
This area of the Nahe is hilly, described by Martin Tesch as a “mini-Rheingau”. The Tesch vines overlook a huge flat plain once occupied in prehistory by the mighty river Rhine. Now they face the winding river Nahe instead – a mere trickle in comparison. The valley is closed to the west, thereby offering protection from rain and wind and creating a microclimate of calmer and warmer conditions, especially at night.
Martin Tesch greeted us cordially on a sunny spring morning on the road bordering his vines. “Wineries are boring and they all look the same”, he said, “so out here in my vineyard is where you can experience all the real action”. We begin to climb – the slopes are deceptive, far steeper than they first appear. After a few hundred metres we reach a restored workman’s hut. In the middle of the vines, it has a commanding view over the valley below, with the villages of Langenlonsheim and Laubenheim in the distance. The room is set out with tables, benches and glasses. This is where we taste the wines and begin to understand the language of the land.
When Martin Tesch took over from his father Hartmut, there were 30 ha of vines. These produced the usual wide range of wines found in the Nahe, all made from a multitude of grape varieties. In addition to Riesling there was Muller-Thurgau, Silvaner, Rivaner, Scheurebe, Gewürztraminer, Weissburgunder (Pinot Blanc) and Spätburgunder (Pinot Noir). The styles produced were equally complicated: QbA followed by the QmP’s (Kabinett, Spätlese, Auslese, Beerenauslese, Trockenbeerenauslese and in some years Eiswein).
Those 30 hectares were producing over fifty different wines – complex to manage and increasingly uneconomic. While Tesch had loyal customers internationally, the reputation of German wine was ebbing away and the Rieslings were getting sweeter every year.
Tesch’s answer? “I created the Punk Rock winery”, he grinned. This required a complete change in winegrowing philosophy to improve quality and reverse errors made in the past. Firstly the north-facing vineyard slopes were abandoned as they naturally produced poorer grapes. These slopes have now reverted to nature and help create habitat and biodiversity. Tesch’s neighbours have seen the improvements this has brought about and some have now followed suit.
Next, all the grapes that didn’t sell were grubbed up. That meant the inferior grape varieties like Muller-Thurgau were early casualties. The Gewürztraminer soon joined it (“because I just don’t like it at all”, says Martin with a winning smile). Suddenly, all that was left was just 11 ha of Riesling, plus three more of the two Pinots.
Today the Riesling covers 17 out of the 20 ha and the vines have an average age approaching 35 years. Tesch doesn’t intend to replant any of it in his lifetime because ageing vines bring more complexity. The vineyards are divided into two principle soil types – one of volcanic origins, the other overlaying weathered sandstone. He has adopted organic methods, the vineyards showing a healthy crop of weeds and grass between the vine rows, with vertical pruning of double canes and a green summer harvest – the result is low yields. Between 20-30 hl/ha would be considered low anywhere, in Germany this is miniscule. With only four employees, tractors are used to reduce labour but there is little sign of soil compaction.
The harvest is manual and he picks the grapes at full ripeness (traditionalists would describe the Öechsle levels as Kabinett and Spätlese) but avoids botrytis. This is because in 2001 he made the biggest change of all – “Die zeit ist reif für trockenen Riesling”, Tesch exclaimed. In his excellent English he immediately translated, “the time was ripe for dry Riesling”.
Sweet wines from Tesch are now history (except, it seems, for the occasional Eiswein when conditions allow). “I also wanted to leave no winemaking imprint on the wines, to have the wines clearly express their origins, as they do in Burgundy”. So there’s no oak used in either fermentation or maturation that would blur the precision of these Rieslings. Small stainless steel barrels are used instead. Winemaking is natural and non-interventionist – there’s no chaptalisation and the fermentation stops when it stops; but usually the wines are fully dry. The secondary (Malolactic) fermentation may happen spontaneously but in ripe vintages like 2007 tart malic acid isn’t an issue. Regardless, Tesch’s knowledge of microbiology gives him total control in the winery.
But what of his change over to dry Riesling? As we shall see, this was a very rock ‘n’ roll revolution. And not plain sailing.
The first thing that happened was that Tesch lost 40% of his sales within the first six months! This was accompanied by vociferous criticism from existing customers and from German wine critics. He was accused of going against the grain of tradition, of destroying his heritage. Tesch ignored it and had the courage of his convictions while operating way outside any comfort zone. Tesch is adamant, “Riesling has a backbone; it is not supposed to be an easy drinking peachy, sweet wine.” Open-minded people tried the new dry Rieslings without prejudice and found them delicious.
Within two years, sales had recovered, new customers had been found and Tesch was receiving accolades rather than brickbats. Ultimately Weingut Tesch even became a business case-study taught by the London School of Economics. “They keep asking me about my strategy. I keep telling them – there wasn’t one”.
But of course there was. Any successful businessman knows that if you want to make changes successfully then you have to firstly be very clear about your objectives and then be able to engage new customers. Here again is the Tesch genius for innovation. The design and communication style at Tesch seems more rooted in the Bauhaus world of designer Walter Gropius than in winemaking.
Tesch Riesling comes in six versions and since 2002 each is distinctively labelled within an overall Tesch theme. A picture of Tesch’s great-grandfather appears on every label, as it has done for 150 years, in a nod towards the heritage of the estate. Everything else is ultra-modern, as far away from the traditional German label with its Gothic scripting as it is possible to get. There are no long words. Each Riesling has is colour coded (“the colours of the London Underground map”) and has individual artwork to distinguish it. In fact, Tesch won the prestigious Red Dot award for product design – and this is no mere wine award – we’re talking about competing toe-to-toe with Sony, Porsche and Apple designs.
Black flute bottles are used and since 2005 all bottling is under screw cap. Now Tesch uses the new Alcan STELVIN® Lux closure and is the first winegrower in Europe to do so. This is more resilient and because the closure has no externally visible screw-thread it looks very smart. It’s an excellent though expensive technical fitting, it helps establish a clear identity for the wines and the closure allows the wines to age in bottle.
Tasting the Tesch 2007 Rieslings
Riesling Unplugged®, 11.5% abv. AP number 77381660108
This is the entry level Riesling. Unashamedly rock ‘n’ roll, this is for drinking young (from release up to 5 years). Tesch describes it as “like the unplugged music sessions – without amplification”.
A black and white colour scheme. Bone dry – effectively Kabinett trocken, first made in 2001. Pale green, flecks of silver, very gentle aromatics and the lightest in the line-up. Big flinty minerality and very focused and ripe fruit. Just 2 g/l of residual sugar and 8 g/l of acidity – and a minimum of malic acid. Manual craftsmanship in an age of mass production. “It’s my party wine”, says Tesch. Some party.
The next five Rieslings are from named individual vineyard sites (Lagen-Riesling) in Langenlonsheim and Laubenheim. These are serious terroir-driven wines; each shows a very clear sense of place and ideally requires 5-10 years bottle age, although as 2007 was such a marvellous vintage all are delicious now.
All five wines are Spätlese trocken; 12% Alcohol with around 4 g/l of residual sugar and 7.8 g/l of acidity. Each wine is different rather than better with extract and concentration as important as acidity in this respect. All are full bodied and perfectly balanced.
Löhrer Berg (Empty Mountain)
Apfel - an apple green “mountain map” label. From Langenlonsheim. A golden colour but flecked lime-green. Wonderful full aromatics, sublime minerality and the merest hint of petrol. Richness and intensity, a sherbet nip on the tongue. Key Lime Pie fruit and huge length. Racy, focused and brilliant. Fertile and damp clay soils with stony river gravel and unstressed vines.
Krone (Crown)
Sonne (sun) – a yellow “frog prince” label. From Laubenheim’s south-east facing slopes, mixed soils range from loess-limestone to weathered sandstone with a high quartz content. Very dry site with water-stressed vines. Pale silver, floral notes, like May blossom. Big pure mineral character and exotic pineapple flavours. Impression of power.
Königsschild (Kings Shield)
Muschel – ocean-blue label with horses. From south-east facing slopes at Langenlonsheim, shell fossils in chalk and loess soil. Pale colour, almost water-white. Smoky nose, rounder fruit and more austere chalky minerality with a savoury note. Impression of speed.
Karthäuser
Sandstein – an ochre label, with Coronation scene. The vineyard belonged to the Carthusian monks at Laubenheim. South-east slopes and weathered sandstone soils. A pale gold. Fruit is all sherbet lemons and grapefruit. A more rounded palate; feels softer with a silkier texture yet still has that rigid steely backbone. Some spice on the finish. A very different expression.
St. Remigiusberg
Vulkan (volcanic) – orange label with a religious scene. From Laubenheim on volcanic soils. What a nose – very different! Big power, smoky pineapple and white blossom. The palate is in a much more powerful masculine style. Might be a touch more residual sugar in this wine – was it riper or did the fermentation stop sooner? No matter, this is still very dry with a very clean mineral-laden finish. Very long – the epitome of beauty.
For my personal taste the St. Remigiusberg edges it for me by the smallest of margins, but I’d buy them all just to explore the differences as they develop. If you want to encounter the full meaning and implications of the word terroir then I can think of no finer place to go than Tesch. With fabulously pure wines of tremendous clarity (and, by the way, tremendous value at around $30), there’s simply no better expression of dry Riesling.
Martin Tesch uses Riesling as a remarkable lens on the landscape. He’s found that essence rare. So now Martin, you must come over to England and let me show you our Brussels sprouts…
When I am not obsessing about organic and biodynamic wine, I relax by obsessing about sailing, often by thumbing through my favorite magazine, the British-based Yachting World. Imagine my surprise and joy, when there among the breathtaking photos of racing yachts, was an article about green transport of wine by… sailboat. CTMV, a company based in France, is reducing the carbon footprint of wine transport by returning to the past and using wind power to bring the “claret,” as Bordeaux was once referred to in London’s clubs, from France to Great Britain and Ireland.
As of now, they are doing this in a sort of ceremonial way by using an old barkentine (a three masted ship to all you lubbers), the Belem. A second vintage ship, the Kathleen and May, is also making the voyage, loaded with wine headed to London. The company seems thoroughly organized. They have impressed (as in the gang sense) over eighty Languedoc/Roussillon wine makers to fund the venture.
What really had me excited, however, was the company’s plans for state-of-the-art sailing ships. The first one is in the construction shed scheduled to be launched in the summer of 2010. She will be 156 ft. long, hold 210 tons of wine and sail at 11kts. Now that’s a maiden voyage I would book passage on! She should easily be able to go Trans-Atlantic.
Wouldn’t it be great to meet this ship at the quays like people did a hundred years ago and celebrate the cargo’s arrival? It would also be great if Frederic Albert, the man with the plan, could convince all the vineyards to put a little label (post consumer paper of course) on each bottle with an image of the boat so that we know we are drinking in a more responsible manner.
With a big reputation for fresh, fragrant, fruit-filled white wines and light, luscious reds, the pocket-sized wine region Friuili-Venezia Giulia in northeast Italy, is surely one of Italy’s hidden jewels.
Bordering Austria, Slovenia and Croatia, between the Adriatic Sea and the Giulie Alps, the sloped vineyards are protected from frosty winter winds and thrive on the warm southern breeze. Plenty of spring rain and a relatively dry summer produce robust roots and vines, which grow in rich limestone-clay soil. This unique mix is recipe for slowly ripen grape and an evenly-paced harvest, which produces wickedly wonderful wines.
Drink plenty and drink em’ young is the Friulian way. Traditionally crafted, wines are best drunk within two to five years of the harvest. Nearly 60% of the lip-smacking juice produced comes from white varietals such as Tocai, Ribolla Gialla, Sauvignon blancs, Malvasia, Pinot Grigio and Pinot Bianco grape. Among reds, Pignolo has achieved cult status – rivaling the fav-raves of Tuscany and Piedmont. Other reds include Refosco, Cabernet Franc and Pinot Nero.
Friulian wine and grub has captured the attention of top restaurateurs worldwide who share their Amore’, offering rustic Friulian cuisine and matching wine. As Friuli is amongst Italy’s biggest consumers of scallops, it makes sense that its fare flaunts fabulous seafood like seared scallops, rock shrimp and eel served with a glass of zesty Sauvignon Blanc, opulent Pinot Bianco, or Tocai flowing with perfectly ripened pear. All are a wonderful beginning to any meal.
On the heartier side, Friulian dining would not be complete without risotto, roasted rabbit or melt-in-your mouth tagliolini tossed with Prosciutto di San Daniele paired with an herbaceous Refosco or dark, spicy Pignolo. And, Friulians loves their pork. In Carnia, many families still raise their own pigs, which are slaughtered in ritual ceremonies and then morphed into a grab-bag of pancetta, salami and sausages, such as Musetto; a boiled sausage made from ground pork, secret seasonings, a splash of wine and the pig’s snout – don’t think too much! While “Frico,” a seasoned local Montasio cheese that is chunked and fried in butter, will do you right partnered with cagey Cabernet Franc.
To top off the meal, savor some sumptuous Picolit. Considered Italy’s top dessert wine, Picolit is often compared to Sauternes for its succulent, subtle sweet silky body. It’s delightful alongside a hunk of creamy, unpasteurized, cows milk Montasio. Perfecto!
Life Pinot Noir is a new pet project for Cooper Mountain winemaker, Gilles de Domingo. I am a big fan of Cooper Mountain wines. All of their estate grown grapes are Demeter certified biodynamic.
Color: dark garnet
Aromas: earth, forest mushrooms and juicy cherry
Flavors: vibrant raspberry and more cherry, fresh herbs, wonderful acidity
Food match: Moroccan style tuna kebobs
Life is a biodynamic wine with no added sulfites. For the moment, only available at the winery and EcoVine Wine Club.
Gilles is from a winemaking family in Bordeaux and has made wine in France, New Zealand, South Africa and Australia before settling with Cooper Mountain in Oregon. I asked Gilles a few questions about Life and himself below.
Is LIFE available for purchase anywhere?
LIFE wine is produced on limited quantity (100 cases /year) therefore it can be find at the winery or on some shops.
Please tell me about the winemaking process for Life, especially about your thinking behind not adding sulfites.
The winemaking process is quite simple: Designation of block in our vineyard, cropping low, Native yeast, Native bacterias, Barrel aging, temperature of storage is at 55-56 degrees.
Starting 2002, Cooper Mountain Vineyards is producing a No Sulfite Added Wine because of several reasons:
1) Sulfites denature the aromatic profile of a wine and therefore, in a certain extent, it eliminates the notion of pure expression of terroir. A no sulfite added wine made from Biodynamic Grapes should be seen as the ultimate form of Biodynamic Wine.
2) Scientific reasons:
a) SO2 is a known to limit the oxidation of a wine (antioxidant). Because of numerous research tend to demonstrate the powerful antioxidant effect of polyphenols naturally contains in grapes, we believe that these polyphenols can replace the antioxidant effect in wine.
b) SO2 is known to limit the microbiological spoilage in wines. Based on the concept that microbiological spoilage could be prevented by applying the medical theory that the abuse of antibiotics will decrease the immune system of an human, the SO2 should be seen as an antibiotic and therefore decrease the natural population of positive yeast/bacterias. In conclusion, the objective is to “enrich” the level of native yeast/bacterias in the vineyard/cellar in order to compete with the negative population.
3) SO2 allergy
The owner of Cooper Mountain is a physician who believes that anybody should be able to drink wine.
What are your thoughts about sulfites and processes for avoiding the usual problems of sulfite free wine?
After the first addition of Sulfite in a wine (after ML for a Pinot Noir), any winemaker will notice a bleaching effect on the wine. This observation is the demonstration that sulfite is somewhat as some strong side effect which reduce the potential of a wine.
The process of avoiding problems are based on several factors:
- 90 % of a sulfite free wine is made on the vineyard: Naturally increasing the level of antioxidant on the berries by cropping low, avoiding excess spray, dry farming works better, exposition, etc…
- 10 % of a sulfite free wine is made on the cellar: If the berries are naturally healthy (full of life and good immune system), the job is quite very easy.
In conclusion, in our opinion with patience and dedication, the use of sulfites will tend to significantly decrease on the future because it could simply replaced naturally.
What is you first wine related memory?
As a good French teenager, partying with wine was a great think to do. Because my family had an enormous quantity of wine in their cellar, I was the kid in charge of taking some bottles in order to party with my friends. Years later and when I stopped to be a spoiled teenager, I realized that I was taking some 1964 Chateau Gruaud Laroze or Chateau Latour…Sorry dad!
What would be your favorite meal with a bottle of Life Pinot Noir?
Take a nice piece of steak (with fat around). Cook it with sea salt, garlic and put Pinot on the top of the steak. Serve it with Green beans. No sauce, please.
Collette wrote of France’s Jurançon: when I was a young girl, I was introduced to a passionate Prince, domineering and two-timing like all great seducers…
My lifelong affair has been with Domaine Tempier’s Bandol rouge, which began in the early 1980s, when I was first introduced to the French imports of Kermit Lynch. In the beginning, I did not understand the compulsion: it was a red wine that always seem to have a spirit – whether it was in the mysterious, earthy, scrubby, leathery notes that often seem to engulf the aromas of berry liqueurs in the nose, or the slightly sparkly, lively, lilting quality in the texture of the wine itself, almost belying a meatiness of tannin and dried grape skin flavor.
Whatever the case, it was like my first love, which happened to be a girl from a Hawaiian plantation – a black maned mestiza, first sighted bouncing up onto the back of a truck, work gloves belted at the waist, jeans snug around the thighs and tucked into dusty leather, steel tip work boots, and (like me) 15 years old going on whatevah. I was tongue tied and discombobulated for weeks; and even long after, incapable of understanding exactly why ordinary conversation seemed as strenuous as swimming in mud.
But conversation with the maddening mestiza did continue for some time, thank you; but with Bandol, the conversation has been going for much longer. It is, after all is said and done, a wine that never seems light or heavy, lean nor fat, zesty but never sharp, delicious with a stew of meat, and delicious with a stew of fish. In short, the ideal lifelong companion.
Many years later, reading the chapter devoted to Domaine Tempier in Kermit Lynch’s classic book, Adventures on the Wine Route, I came to understand why this wine, of all wines, retains its eternal dusty leathered youth: particularly the fact that it comes from a magnificent vineyard in Provence’s Le Plan de Castellet, close enough to the Mediterranean where the air is pungent with the smell of the ocean mixed with scrubby herbs of the chalky hillsides. How François Peyraud plowed and hoed the field by hand rather resort to herbicides, and fought mildew by spraying the vines (mostly Mourvèdre, with some grapes of the Grenache) only with natural sulfur from the soil of a nearby region so that the terroir could remain pristine and protected from artificial intrusion.
And how Jean-Marie Peyraud, following his father Lucien’s lead, aged the Bandol strictly in large, well used casks (rather than new, small oak barrels) so that the wine tasted of grapes and earth rather than freshly hewn trees, and bottled with absolutely no sulfites so that years after, when drinking Domaine Tempier Bandol, you would still feel like you were drinking directly from the cask, when the wine still tastes like it is just squeezed from the grapes.
Indeed, Domaine Tempier’s Bandol is a wine that really doesn’t age. That is to say, it will retain its deep color and fragrance – in fact, deepen in color and fragrance – even as the years fly by. I kid you not, as this very fact was driven home to me one night (oh, about eleven years ago) when Kermit himself served me a muscular 20 year old Vieux Télégraphe Châteauneuf-du-Pape, followed by a regally scented 20 year old Chave Hermitage, followed by a 20 year old Domaine Tempier… all double-blind (the identities of the wines hidden from me in decanters), and densest, darkest, most fragrant wine of the three was still, after all that time, the Bandol!
But I wasn’t surprised, because I’d already been entangled with Bandol for some time. Now are you getting interested?
Okay, then you must first find yourself a bottle of the 2006 Domaine Tempier Bandol Classique (about $40); which, although is an entry level Bandol (Tempier produces several single vineyard Bandols with even more pent-up energy and power), has all the Bandolishness you need: a nose of sweet berries (sometimes I think cassis, other times framboise) floating over the glass with wispy, invisible clouds of earth (freshly composted humus… perfume to a gardener) and gunflint mixed with a subtle ocean salinity; and on the palate, juicy, rich, medium to full flavors, tugging at the senses like that old, familiar, perfectly agreeable pain (ah, that girl from the fields).
When Kermit and I tasted that 20 year old Bandol, he and his wife Gail Skoff served up squab and a casserole of scalloped potatoes layered with truffles. Of course, the match was perfect in every way, but not exactly your normal Friday night meal. In lieu of that, I prescribe slow smoked birds, like duck or Cornish game hen. But from many years of experience, I also know that Bandol’s salt and flint nuanced berry qualities are absolutely delicious with Island style smoked pulled pork (what we call kalua pig), which differs from Southern style pulled pork in that it’s not mixed in or served with a vinegary, sweet-spicy barbecue sauce (Bandol doesn’t have the pointedly sweet, berry jam flavors like, say, California Zinfandel to handle American barbecue sauces).
No, for Bandol all you need is a fork tender, steamy pile of smoked pork dolled up with nothing more than rock salt. The ancient Hawaiians traditionally dug a 6 x 4 x 3 foot hole in the ground to make their kalua – the whole pig cooked over blazing hot rocks, covered with banana leaves and burlap, and then buried in the ground to steam a good 24 hours. I’m not suggesting you find your fatted pig, dig up the backyard or drive down to Louisiana for your banana leaves. After many years of living off-island, I’ve devised my own total “lazy man’s” way of cooking Hawaiian style pulled pork, requiring nothing more than time:
5-8 lb. pork butt
¼ cup sea salt (Hawaiian if you can find it; kosher in a pinch)
2 oz. liquid smoke (or ½ bottle of Wright’s Liquid Hickory Smoke)
Pre-heat oven to 350° F. Score pork and place in a big enough Dutch oven. Combine salt and liquid smoke and rub all over pork. Pour water half-way up side of pork; cover with heavy duty aluminum foil and roast in oven, at least 1 hour per pound.
The entire house will smell like a smoker, but that’s okay… just open a window and pop a well chilled bottle of Domaine Tempier’s Bandol rosé (some say, the finest dry pink wine in the world). Remove pork from water, place in large bowl and shred with tongs or strong forks. Mix in additional rock salt to taste. Serve with steamed white rice, collard greens or spinach, fresh sliced tomatoes, the Bandol rouge, and you’re in business!
As March makes her entrance, I crave neither the heavy fare of winter nor the light dishes of spring, but something in between. This dish wins the goldilocks challenge, marrying the warm and comforting flavors of the months behind with the light and vibrant flavors of the season ahead. A glass of not-too light, but not-too heavy Chianti, and well, it’s just right.
Serves: 4 Prep time: 10 minutes, plus 6-24 hours of marinating time Cooking time: 10-12 minutes, plus 1 hour for the polenta
1 ¼-pound skirt steak
2 tablespoons minced garlic, divided
1 tablespoon minced rosemary, divided
1 tablespoon minced thyme, divided
¼ cup plus 1 ½ tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, divided
1 bunch broccoli rabe, ends trimmed
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
1 small chunk Parmigiano Reggiano for grating
Creamy polenta (see below)
Salsa verde (see below)
Marinated slow roasted or sun-dried tomatoes from a jar for serving (optional)
Trim the steak of any excess fat and cut it in half horizontally (or in thirds) for easier grilling. Put the steaks into a large re-sealable plastic bag and add half of the garlic, half of the rosemary, half of the thyme and ¼ cup of the olive oil. Mix the marinade around to evenly coat the steak, and refrigerate for 6-24 hours.
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil for the broccoli rabe. Prepare an ice bath. Add the broccoli rabe to the boiling water and cook 2-4 minutes, or until bright green and crisp tender. Using tongs, transfer the broccoli rabe to the ice bath to cool. Pat dry with a kitchen towel. (If not using immediately, wrap the blanched broccoli rabe in paper towels and store in a large re-sealable plastic bag for up to 24 hours.)
30-45 minutes before cooking, take the meat out of the refrigerator to come to room temperature. In a shallow dish, combine the blanched broccoli rabe with the remaining garlic, rosemary, thyme and 1 ½ tablespoons olive oil, along with a pinch of salt and pepper.
Heat a grill-pan to medium-high heat. Brush the marinade off of the steaks and season with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Grill the steaks for 3-4 minutes per side for medium rare. Transfer to a cutting board and cover loosely with foil.
Grill the broccoli rabe on both sides until lightly charred in places. Transfer to a platter; season with a bit of salt and pepper. Drizzle with balsamic vinegar and grate Parmigiano Reggiano over the top.
Slice the steak thinly against the grain and serve over creamy polenta. Drizzle the salsa verde over the steak and sprinkle some of the marinated tomatoes alongside. Serve with the grilled broccoli rabe.
Creamy Polenta
The ratio for polenta is 4 parts of water to 1 part of stone-ground cornmeal. The trick to a luscious texture is to cook it low and slow. You don’t have to be anchored to the stovetop while it cooks, but you will need to pop into the kitchen every now and again to give it a stir. Nothing will compare to the resulting bright corn flavor and creamy texture.
4 cups water
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup stone-ground polenta (or cornmeal)
1-1 ½ cups milk
2-4 tablespoons butter (to taste)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
In a medium saucepan, bring the water and salt to a boil. Slowly whisk in the polenta. Bring the water back to a boil, whisking constantly, and cook until the polenta starts to thicken, 2-4 minutes. Reduce the heat to a low simmer and stir with a wooden spoon. Simmer the polenta gently (there should soft bubbles with an intermittent plop), stirring occasionally and adding a splash of milk every now and then to moisten. Cook for 45 minutes.
After 45 minutes, taste the polenta to see if it’s done (be careful—it’ll be hot!). It should be creamy without a grainy texture. Continue cooking for 10-15 minutes if it’s still grainy.
Add butter to taste, along with a bit more milk if needed until you reach the consistency you want. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper. If you’re not serving it right away, drizzle a bit more milk over the top (this will prevent a crust from forming) and cover the polenta to keep warm (it can sit for up to an hour; stir before serving).
Salsa Verde
1/2 tablespoon drained capers
1 anchovy filet, rinsed and patted dry
1 garlic clove, minced
2 teaspoons minced shallots (about ½ small shallot)
1 scant teaspoon each minced rosemary, thyme and oregano
1 cup loosely packed parsley leaves
2 walnuts
¼ teaspoon red wine vinegar
Pinch salt and a few grinds of freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup good quality extra virgin olive oil
In a mortar and pestle or mini food processor, combine all of the ingredients except for the olive oil and process to a thick paste. Slowly add the olive oil and process until incorporated. Let the sauce sit at room temperature for at least 10 minutes before serving to let the flavors meld. Do Ahead:The salsa verde can be stored in a tightly sealed container in the refrigerator for a week.