A Visitor from the Luberon

When I visited Domaine de la Citadelle back in the fall of 2000, I viewed it at the time as simply a happy coincidence. I was staying for a few days in the Luberon, and our home base was in a B&B located in the valley below the hilltop village of Ménerbes. There just happened to be a winery, a handsome one at that, within easy walking distance. We kind of had to check it out, non? As luck would have it, the wines we sampled in the Domaine's tasting room were pretty damn tasty so, after taking a spin through their Musée du Tire-Bouchon, we left with an armful of bottles to enjoy with our lunches (and afternoon snacks) over the next few days.

That happy coincidence turned into a more surprising one when, three or four years later, the wines of Domaine de la Citadelle showed up at the shop where I work. They've remained in steady rotation there ever since. As with wines from other estates I've had the chance to visit, I enjoy a certain comfort in selling them, as first-hand experience always makes what's in the bottle more personally meaningful — and correspondingly easier to recommend.

Over the ensuing years, I've met Alexis-Rousset Rouard on a few occasions. Alexis' father, Yves Rousset-Rouard, essentially created the Domaine de la Citadelle when he bought the property — a farmhouse and eight hectares of vineyards at the time — in 1989. Alexis joined his father at the estate in 1995 — it's now expanded to include approximately 40 hectares under vine — and has since taken an ever increasing role in both farming and winemaking responsibilities. Saturday just past, I got to know Alexis a good deal better, spending the better part of the day helping him pour and present his wines for the steady stream of customers that came by the shop to taste with him.

When the clock struck closing time at the tasting table, I posed a simple question to Alexis: shall we head to a local restaurant, or accept an invitation to dine with friends? His quick answer: chez amis.

Sometimes staying in really does trump going out, especially after a long day at the office. That's Alexis above, relaxing at the kitchen island in the home of our gracious hosts, Bill and Kelly, with my friend and coworker Eric resting it out in the background.

Since our hosts hadn't made it to the tasting, we carried along a bottle of Domaine de la Citadelle's 2008 Luberon blanc "Le Châtaignier" (pictured way up above) to enjoy with dinner. It's a blend of Clairette, Grenache Blanc, Ugni Blanc and Bourboulenc, fermented and aged solely in tank. As with all of Alexis' wines in the "Le Châtaignier" ("the chestnut tree") line — there's a red and rosé as well — it's produced from a parcel-by-parcel selection of young vine fruit and vinified with the intention of producing a bright, fruit-driven, relatively simple yet characterful wine for everyday enjoyment. Like all of the estate's wines, it's also marked by refreshing acidity; Alexis likes to call it tension. We're not talking tongue-twisting action for all you acid freaks out there, but we are talking about brighter acidity than typical in most of the Southern Rhône. That acidity is a direct side effect of the cool nights and moderate elevation (about 300 meters) in the Luberon vignobles, where harvest typically starts 8-15 days later than in other parts of the Southern Rhône.

The crisp yet ripe texture, orchard fruit flavors, and delicately mineral finish of "Le Châtaignier" blanc made for a delicious pairing with Bill's pan-seared scallops and crunchy "green linguine."

Alexis' vin blanc was a no-brainer, but there was a big question facing us for the rest of the night. Just what do you pour when a winemaker comes over for dinner?

I'd considered bringing along an older Domaine de la Citadelle bottle from the home cellar (something like this, perhaps), but then I figured that Alexis can drink his own wines pretty much whenever he wants. Hmmm...

I think we were all in accord that one can rarely go wrong with Champagne. Bill had actually figured that one out ahead of time, as he had a bottle of José Michel's 1997 Champagne "Spécial Club" lightly chilled and ready to be popped when we arrived. Michel's "Club" bottling is consistently delicious wine. While the '97 may not have quite the elegance and fine structure of the 1996 (that I wrote about as a guest Chez Brooklynguy quite some time ago), it was still vibrantly youthful, showing all of the richness, opulence and ready-and-raring-to-go qualities of the '97 vintage.

What else, though? So many options... but is Burgundy really a bad way to go? We thought not.

We paired Robert Ampeau's 1994 Puligny-Montrachet 1er Cru "Combettes" with Bill's franco-american spin on spaghetti carbonara. The sauce featured quail's eggs in place of the traditional hen's eggs; pork belly that Bill had smuggled back from Paris in the stead of pancetta; and sautéed ramp greens in lieu of the oft-tossed fistful of chopped flat-leaf parsley. The caramel depth of the wine's tertiary fruit and its stony finish turned out to be a surprisingly decent match to the subtly smoky yet delicate flavors of the pasta. It wasn't the most vibrant bottle of the '94 Combettes I've had but it was still in great shape, an admirable showing.

The 2007 Chassagne-Montrachet 1er Cru "Morgeot" of Henri Germain wasn't too shabby a match with our next course, either. Bill's really been dialing it in at the stove-top of late. His butter-braised grouper cheeks, each one about as big around as a standard muffin-top (guess I should have included something in the photo to give a sense of scale), were absolutely scrumptious. I really dig Henri Germain's wines, too. They're hard to resist when they're young, like this bottle so painfully was — all nervy and wound up like a spring but with vibrant, focused fruit intensity and great length. I've yet to taste any mature examples of his whites but there's a bottle of the 2002 version of this very wine waiting in the cellar for that certain moment. Just keeping my fingers crossed that there won't be any prem-ox issues....

Just to be fair, we threw in a little red wine between courses.... The 2005 Montefalco Rosso "Vigna San Valentino" from Paolo Bea — a blend of 70% Sangiovese along with 15% each of Montepulciano and Sagrantino — was snappy, fresh and vibrant. Way too easy to drink and a beautiful example of just how approachable and versatile Sangiovese-based reds can be at the table.

While we obviously opted for an all-Euro entourage of wines, we didn't want to leave Alexis without a taste of home — our home, that is. I'd missed the morning's ramp romp (yes, working on Saturdays is not without its downsides) but Bill and some friends had gone a-foraging and the ramps pictured above were fresh and tasty as could be, lending their springtime fragrance and savor to all three of the dishes we enjoyed on Saturday night.

Looking back at last year's edition of the ramp fest, it seems we broke out a remarkably similar range of dishes and even some coincidentally (and happily) similar wine selections this year. Turns out there's comfort to be found in both the familiarity of home and the reassurance of consistency.

We'll expect you back again next year, Alexis.

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StudioKitchen meets Ideas in Food

Shola Olunloyo and Alex Talbot are two of the most creatively driven chefs I know. You can see it for yourself – on a nearly daily basis if you like – on their respective blogs, StudioKitchen and Ideas in Food. Both are chefs who seem to strive not for perfection so much as for the best possible expression of the next step in their constantly evolving field of art; Shola calls it “the search for deliciousness.” Both are highly driven by technique, process and exploration of ingredients. Like Wylie Dufresne, who I think makes for an apt comparison, their approach can be scientific and highly manipulative, yet their end results almost always manage to be delicious and organically satisfying at heart, not just precious and cerebral.

Both men have been sharing ideas and, occasion permitting, trading chops for several years now. They share other things in common as well. Both seem to enjoy photography almost as much as cooking. The photos you’ll see below were all taken by Mr. Olunloyo and you’ll find equally stunning shots at Ideas in Food as well as at the StudioKitchen blog. Both have also chosen the private stage over the restaurant world, cooking for small groups or working as private chefs for hire, more often than not entirely on their own (or alongside a life partner in Alex’s case).

Talbot’s recent move, along with his wife Aki Kamozawa, from New York to the outer Philadelphia countryside in Bucks County, PA, has allowed for an easier exchange of ideas between Shola and Alex, an exchange that’s recently culminated in a series of private dinners held at Shola’s actual StudioKitchen. Attending night one of a two-night collaboration held this weekend, I half expected a meeting of such talents to result in a clash of egos or a struggle for expression in the kitchen. What I happily found instead was a seemingly harmonious melding. Alex’s introverted style and precise work ethic in the kitchen matched comfortably with Shola’s extroversion in presenting the dishes and working all aspects of the room. I called their match-up SKIF a few days back; they call it IDSK. Let’s call it Studio Kitchen meets Ideas in Food. The meal they built together was often surprising – and always delectable.

Again, the photos below were taken by Shola; he and Alex banned photography at the table for the evening to help keep everyone's focus on the food (and eating it while it’s hot) and the company.


Mango-Yogurt Sorbet
wild char roe, arugula
If the idea of fish eggs paired with ice cream seems strange, just pare it down to its base elements: salty and sweet. And really tasty. A real jump-start for the palate. The cured wild char roe is produced by BLiS, the same company that makes some of the most hedonistically delicious maple syrup on the market.



Corn Pudding
smoked sea urchin
Santa Barbara uni, gently smoked over cherry wood. Corn shoot garnish. The corn “pudding” was seasoned with ginger, celery, onion and lemongrass, and thickened with carrageenan. Shola made corn soup at the first StudioKitchen dinner I attended, many moons ago; it’s been a constantly evolving staple in his arsenal ever since.



Goose Egg Yolk
chorizo-chanterelle hash, garden herbs
The goose egg was slow-cooked in its shell for two hours at 65 degrees F. Served with chorizo from Despaña and topped with a nasturtium. Like I said, beautiful and delicious. And a fantastic pairing with Huet’s 2002 Vouvray Brut Pétillant.



Foie Gras Marble
blueberry, pistachio, cantaloupe
PB&J for grownups.



Softshell Crab Tempura
old bay, honeydew raita
A tiny crab so late in the season for softshells… a testament to working with a good fish monger. Delicate and perfectly cooked, accents courtesy of garlic scapes and borage flower.



Ramp Top Cavatelli
geoduck clam sauce
Ramp season may be gone but blanched ramp greens apparently freeze very well…. I’m in complete agreement with Shola, who likes to eat this by the bowlful; unquestionably the comfort food dish of the evening.



Sweetbreads
lemon verbena, pickled watermelon rind
The sweetbreads were brined overnight in a bath of buttermilk, salt, sugar and verbena. No crusty distraction here, all organ-y goodness, with balancing brightness and snap provided by the bed of pickled watermelon.



Pig Cheek
cornbread, collard greens, red cola sauce
The only dish of the night that didn’t entirely excite me, perhaps better scaled toward a stand-alone main course than as a small plate. The collard greens in particular didn’t seem to sync with the rhythm and vibe of the rest of the meal.



Sangria Squab
berbere potsticker, kohlrabi
Startlingly gamy at first bite but deeply satisfying at the last. Squab from Central New Jersey’s Griggstown Farm.



Delice de Bourgogne Burrata
fennel, green olive oil
The decadent richness and creaminess of Delice de Bourgogne, adjusted to show the fresh, slippery, bubble tea-like texture of burrata. Dressed with the delicious Olio Verde of Gianfranco Becchina, produced at Antica Tenuta Principi Pignatelli in Castelvetrano, Sicily.



Carrot-Bacon Cake
blood orange marmalade ice cream, maple vinegar
Just as savory – if not more so – as sweet. Many at the table agreed that this could work just as easily as a stuffing for game birds as it could dessert. Lovely with a little taste of PX – and a fine way to savor the end of the evening's adventures.

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Pickling

After the post-romp feast at Bill’s last week, a couple of rounds of ramp-topped buffalo burgers, a few bowls of spaghetti with ramps and several renditions of “green ramps and eggs” (as my wife called them), I wanted some way to preserve the last of my wild leek gatherings beyond ramps’ normal season. I doubted freezing would work. The possibilities of pesto were more promising, but I just wasn’t feeling it. Pickling it was then, as suggested by our ramp foraging guide. He’d mentioned a recipe from one of Colicchio’s books. Here’s my rendition:


Pickled Ramps

Adapted from Tom Colicchio's Think Like a Chef, with changes as necessary based on the contents of my cupboard (and to avoid driving to the supermarket).

Makes about 1 quart.

Equipment:

1 large pot for blanching ramps
1 small saucepan for brewing up the pickling juice
Mason jar(s)

Ingredients:

1 cup unfiltered, organic apple cider vinegar
1 cup white sugar
1 tablespoon kosher
1 cup water
1 teaspoon brown mustard seed
1 teaspoon coriander seed
1 teaspoon anise seed
2 teaspoons mixed peppercorns (white, pink and black)
1 dried bay leaf

2 pounds ramps, cleaned and trimmed (no, I didn't weigh them...)

Large pinch of kosher salt for blanching water

Procedure:

1. Wash the ramps thoroughly under cool, running water. Trim the root ends off of the ramps and cut off the leaves, leaving about 1/4 inch of green. Save the leafy ends for another purpose (I sautéed them and added them to one of the aforementioned batches of scrambled eggs).

2. Blanch the ramps for 25-30 seconds by dropping them in a large pot of salted, boiling water. Remove then shock them in ice water. Drain the ramps well and place them in a mason jar.

3. Combine the vinegar, salt, sugar, and water in a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Add the bay leaf, mustard seeds, coriander, pink and white peppercorns, and anise seeds.

4. Pour the hot vinegar mixture over the ramps in the mason jar, seal tight and let cool before transferring to the refrigerator.

* * *
I split mine, again using materials on hand, into one pint jar and two half-pint jars – just enough to give one away and keep the rest for use, as a reminder of spring, throughout summer grilling season. Four days on, a quick taste test shows promising results.

I can’t promise there aren’t a few ramps still poking their leafy greens above the forest floor here in the greater Mid-Atlantic States. I can, however, promise you that this will be my last ramp post (at least for a while...).

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Cooking up the Ramp Romp

After our ramp foraging excursion a few days back, a little bit – actually, a lot – of cooking was in order. What didn’t go into scrambled eggs or into the pickling jar was whipped up at the main event, courtesy of Chef Bill.

Smoked Salmon and Ramp Bruschetta

Really delicious; I could have made a meal of these and been perfectly happy. Nothing more than lightly grilled baguette slices, brushed with a dab of olive oil and topped with Talula’s smoked salmon and sautéed ramps. Washed down well with bubbles and Rheinwein.


Crémant d’Alsace Brut, Domaine Barmès-Buecher 2007
$18. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
The exuberant ripeness of François Barmès’ fruit shows through in the forward nature of his ’07 Crémant d’Alsace. It’s drinking well now that it’s had a chance to settle into itself and shows the potential to develop interest with a couple of years in the bottle. Simultaneously crunchy and creamy, with pear, apple and guanabana on the palate and youthful, primary yeast aromatics.

Rheinhessen Riesling Kabinett “Limestone,” Weingut Keller 2006
$32. 7.5% alcohol. Cork. Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
The weight and concentration of a Spätlese combine with the slightly lower than usual acidity of the 2006 vintage to make for quite an opulent Kabinett. Keller’s trademark crystalline minerality is still lurking in the background though, helping to keep the mouthfeel lively. Its fruit attack borders on the tropical, with key lime and guava playing nicely with flavors of ripe white peaches. This is fruit from Westhofener Kirchspiel, labeled much as with “von der Fels” to brand Klaus-Peter Keller’s focus on limestone driven terroir.

Spaghetti “Ramp-o-nara”

Yep, that’s my name for it. Laugh all you want…. This was a neat play on Italian and down home Southern cooking techniques. The ramps were sautéed in bacon drippings, the pan deglazed with white wine and chicken stock to form a “sauce,” then everything, bacon and all, tossed with the pasta. Really great depth of flavor. Premier Cru red Burgundy was hardly a traditional pairing but the smokiness in the flavor profile of both of the following wines made it work.


Auxey-Duresses Premier Cru Les Duresses, Domaine Diconne (Christophe Diconne) 2005
$32. 13% alcohol. Cork. Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
Vigorous, even masculine expression of a wine defined in most vintages more by its delicacy than its structure. Brambly black cherry fruit with spicy, smoky nuances. Well balanced, its acidity and tannins are beginning to find their center, just starting to gel and harmonize. Quite tasty now if very young, this is showing every bit the promise that led me to stash away a few bottles on release. A fine value in ’05 red Burg.

Volnay Premier Cru Santenots, Robert Ampeau et Fils 1993
$70. 13% alcohol. Cork. Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
The best of many bottles of this vintage I’ve tasted over the last couple of years. Medium-red with amber and rose petal notes around the rim, this is in that great spot where primary fruit is still evident but tertiary bottle bouquet is in full bloom. You could feel the wine’s age coming on but still sense its vitality; it was surprisingly firm, almost muscular in texture. A solid core of wild red forest fruits was surrounded by scents and flavors of clove, tar, smoke, leather and anise seed. This is a current release, by the way.


Pan-roasted Halibut Cheeks with Butter-braised Ramps

I’d never had halibut cheeks before; their texture reminded me of skate but meatier. A really nice foil to the butter enriched ramps – and to a youngster from Rioja.

Rioja Crianza Blanco “Viña Gravonia,” R. Lopez de Heredia 1998
$28. 12% alcohol. Cork. Polaner Selections, Mt. Kisco, NY.
The wine world would be such a safer place to play if more producers cellared their wines and released them when ready to drink rather than on a fixed marketing schedule. Both Ampeau and Lopez de Heredia do just that. Of course it’s an expensive business practice, which makes it all the more surreal that a wine of this age and quality that’s been cared for so well – not to mentioned aged in cask for four years before bottling – can still be purchased in the mid-$20s. Much like the Ampeau, this is showing lovely development but also plenty of potential for further growth. Golden, sunbathed fruit, waxy texture and blanched almonds. It really brought out the savory, oceanic essence of the fish, its pure essence – about all one can ask for in a food and wine match. (It's also the full answer to Wednesday's "Name That Wine" post.)

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Ramp Foraging

rain woods path
spade pail mud
roots rocks ramps
(in search of allium tricoccum)


Into the woods.


Once found, you couldn't put a foot down....


My fellow foragers.




The rain made for easy working of the soil.


Into the clear.


Just enough, sauteed, to top a couple of buffalo burgers.

More to come....

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