Thursday, September 10, 2009

A Full Plate's 3rd Annual Rib Cook Off

Still looking for something to do this Saturday in Philly? Well, plan your hunger attack now. A measly $20 will buy you all the ribs, brisket, vegetarian BBQ and sides you can eat at A Full Plate’s Third Annual Rib Cook-Off.


Festivities begin at 1:00 PM on Saturday, September 12, 2009, directly behind the Piazza at Schmidt’s in Northern Liberties.

Did I mention that the $20 entrance fee also covers libations from two of the main event sponsors: beer from Stoudt’s Brewing Company and cocktails based on Root, the herbal spirit from Philly’s Art in the Age?

I’ll be one of the judges for the professional division and am looking forward to diving in hands first. So come on out, join me and get some BBQ on.

A Full Plate's 3rd Annual Rib Cook-Off
2nd and N. Hancock Streets
(directly behind The Piazza @ Schmidt's)
FREE PARKING
Gates open at 1:00 PM
Saturday, September 12th

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Savennières for Labor Day

I was scrounging around in my cellar on Monday, looking for a bottle or two to take to a relaxed Labor Day get-together, when I was reminded of something I’d read recently at Rockss and Fruit. Is it a bad sign when something you’ve seen in a comment thread on someone else’s blog sticks in your head? Whatever your answer, here’s what Lyle had to say in response to a visitor’s quick note on a disappointing bottle of Savennières from Domaine des Baumard: “Baumard is not the ager in Savvy, Vaults [Domaine du Closel] is. '97 is also too ripe for long aging.”

So, out came the ’97 Baumard. Perfect wine for a Labor Day barbecue, no? Actually, I knew I had a bottle of the exact wine in question – Baumard’s “Trie Spéciale” – buried in there somewhere but I landed upon a bottle of “Clos du Papillon” first and figured that would do just fine.

Fact is, I agree with Lyle’s general summation of 1997 in Savennières. It was a hot vintage that gave broad, rich wines with less apparent acidity and nervousness than in a “classic” vintage. I wasn’t sure though – curious, but not sure – as to whether that would necessarily preclude the wines from aging well. As to his experiences regarding the age worthiness of Baumard’s wines, well, they don’t really sync with my own experiences so I was looking forward to putting the questions Lyle had raised to the test. I’m not talking about 20 or 30 year-old wines here; I just don’t have enough experience with Savennières of that age. However, I’ve had plenty of wines from Domaine des Baumard in the 10-15 year-old range that, though oxidative, have been quite wonderful. In any event, this ain’t meant to be a sucker punch; I’m just citing thought provocation where it’s due. Many thanks for the inspiration, Sir Fass.

Savennières “Clos du Papillon,” Domaine des Baumard 1997
~$25 on release. 13.8% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Ex-Cellars, Solvang, CA.
Okay, let’s check it out. Light amber in the glass, things led off with a classically oxidative nose of Sherry and apples, dead-on to my experiences with old-ish bottles of Baumard Savennières which show developed aromas early yet continue to thrive. Scents of chamomile, quince and teak wood followed. Acidity was beautifully balanced too, adding high notes to the wine’s round, vibrant mouthfeel. Sweet, haunting, Madeira-like finish. Very, very long.

Unless I had you worried earlier, I think it’s fair to say this wasn’t matched up with classic Labor Day cookout fare but rather with pan-seared scallops, served with cucumber “noodles” dressed with a sauce of tomato concassé and finished with dashes of both tomato and Sherry vinegar. The dish brought out the underlying freshness in the wine – a really wonderful pairing. The Madeira-like notes I mentioned were unmistakable – Boal, all the way – piercing, haunting and bury-your-nose-in-the-glass beautiful, oxidative but not at all oxidized in the negative sense. Strong notes of crystallized ginger and marzipan built as the wine opened. Really friggin’ delicious and, though perhaps “old” to some palates, still very much alive and kicking.

Do I think the wine has a long future ahead of it? Probably not, but if I had more bottles I’d surely sock at least one away for the sake of potentially proving myself wrong. Regardless, at twelve years of age, it’s still got plenty to say.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Jean-François Mérieau's "L'Arpent des Vaudons"

I’ve been reading more and more compelling things about the producers and wines in importer Jon-David Headrick’s portfolio over the last couple of years but, until recently, I’d never seen any of them available in my local area. That recent change comes, surprisingly enough, via the good old Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board. It’s hardly a surprise of earth shaking proportions, though, as it’s not as if the PLCB has suddenly brought Headrick’s entire book into the state. No, it’s much more likely, based on the rather random selection popping up here and there, that Headrick or, more likely, his local distributor has discovered and acted upon PA’s willingness to act as a clearinghouse for closeouts and back vintages. It’s always buyer beware in such circumstances but, with a little care in selecting, it is possible to come away with a winner from time to time.


Touraine Sauvignon Blanc “L’Arpent des Vaudons,” Jean-François Mérieau (Vignobles des Bois Vaudons) 2007
$15. 12% alcohol. Nomacorc. Importer: Jon-David Headrick Selections, Carrboro, NC.

Vignobles des Bois Vaudons consists of approximately 35 hectares of vineyards in the Touraine, including a small parcel in Vouvray but primarily based around a home base in St. Julien de Chédon, located just outside of Montrichard and about 35 kilometers south of Blois. Representing the third generation of family wine making at the estate, Jean-François Mérieau took the reins in 2000 after returning from a wine making stint in South Africa, bringing with him a more terroir-driven, natural approach to managing the estate. Working the land according to the principles of lutte raisonée since that time, he’s now in the process of converting to organic farming and is slowly but surely moving to hand culture in the vineyards, a process that’s now about 75% complete.

“L’Arpent des Vaudons” is produced from one of the property’s two primary vineyards, “Les Vaudons,” which includes a nine-hectare parcel of Sauvignon Blanc vines growing in argilo-calcaire soils and ranging from 10-60 years of age. The wine undergoes fermentation on its native yeasts, followed by six-to-nine months of sur-lie aging in steel, with occasional stirring of the lees.

The wine leads off with a slightly waxy, unctuous mouthfeel and surprisingly un-citrusy, un-grassy aromatics. In fact, the fruit initially comes off as more toward the tropical end of the spectrum. It’s backed up by energetic acidity and a stony finish, both of which help to lift and carry the wine’s flesh. Headrick’s technical notes compare this to Sancerre but it reminds me much more of many whites I’ve had from Cheverny, rounder and less racy than the classic Sancerrois profile. As long as we’re drawing comparisons, there’s a faintly bitter, vegetal edge on the finish that reminds me more of the darkly herbal character of Rhein Sylvaner than of the grassy, floral character more typical to Loire Sauvignon.

Jean-François Mérieau (photo courtesy of Jim Budd). At his excellent blog, Jim's Loire, Mr. Budd has just posted a 2009 Loire harvest progress report that includes an update from Jean-François.

Mérieau has found good balance here, as the wine is abundantly ripe yet, again, uplifted by bright, full acids. Given the wine’s heft, it’s a bit of a surprise to find the alcohol content listed at a mere twelve percent, particularly as there are no more than a few grams of residual sugar in evidence; there’s no stamp of heat, though, so I have no reason to believe the alcohol level is fudged by any more than a half-degree.

Spending more time with the wine in the glass, I really am struck by its rich mouth feel; it possesses the marrowy qualities of a vin de garde Muscadet but with the greater fruit intensity of Sauvignon and the creaminess of a Mâcon Chardonnay. Actually, I’d like there to be a bit more fruit intensity, as style seems to have somewhat trumped the wine’s varietal character. With food, however, the fruit does come more to the fore. In fact, there’s the citrus element I’d missed at first pass – a now unmistakable blast of ripe, slightly bitter pink grapefruit.

What I’m trying to say with all this hemming and hawing is that Jean-François Mérieau’s “L’Arpent des Vaudons” is a fine example of middle-Loire Sauvignon, one that bears the clear marks of ambitious winemaking but that stops well short of being overwrought. And it’s enough, particularly given its price-appropriateness, to ready me for further exploration of both Mérieau’s wines and Headrick’s portfolio.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Sam's Morning Glory Diner


For almost as long as I’ve lived in the Philadelphia area, Morning Glory Diner has served me well – a reliable, favorite go-to for weekend brunch or a random weekday breakfast. It’s been years since Morning Glory – Sam’s Morning Glory Diner is its full name but no one ever seems to call it that – carried any real buzz around town. But even though the hype has quieted, the Saturday/Sunday crowds don’t seem to have diminished in the least. What keeps it going strong after more than a decade in business?

It would be easy enough to say it’s not the wait for a table, which easily runs into the hour-plus range on weekends. But on a nice day, when patience is more likely in supply, the wait can actually be a pleasant way to catch up with friends and make breakfast seem like an event. One might say it’s not the service, which can be surly at times – thought that’s never really bothered me. It’s definitely not the grits (taste like instant to me) or the coffee, served in tin cups that I really can’t stand. But, aside from those grits, it might just be the food, most of which is consistently good and far outperforms any expectations one might form around the “diner” designation. All in all, though, I think it’s the experience. The food, the location, the hipster/crunchy vibe, fair prices and, yes, the long wait all add up to an overall experience that exceeds the sum of its parts.

A long wait on a sunny day provides plenty of time to deconstruct the city’s single-speed stylings.

They may fit well with the table-top décor but I can’t imagine I’m the only one that doesn’t like drinking hot coffee out of stainless steel mugs.

Serving vessel and grit quibbles aside, the quality of the food is more than high enough to warrant the long waits. The individual, made-to-order frittatas will add to the wait time once you’ve ordered but are worth the wait, time permitting – tasty and more than ample enough to warrant a doggy bag. Southern cooking purists might find fault with the sheet-pan cooked, crumb topped “biscuits” but they’re a delicious base for seasonal house made preserves, both of which, along with homemade ketchup, are Morning Glory signatures.

Counter seating, an open kitchen and bemused, t-shirt-and-ink-clad wait staff are all integral parts of the MGD experience.

I never seem to have room for dessert after brunch. But if the pies as good as the preserves, pancakes and French toast suggest they should be, I’ll have to pay a mid-afternoon snack visit one of these days, Agent Cooper style.



Sam's Morning Glory Diner
735 S. 10th Street
(10th & Fitzwater)
Philadelphia, PA 19147
215-413-3999
Morning Glory Diner on Urbanspoon

Friday, September 4, 2009

Timelessness


This one goes out to an old friend.... John Coltrane, performing "Naima" with McCoy Tyner, Elvin Jones and Jimmy Garrison. Recorded while I was in the womb, it remains -- and always will be -- beautifully visceral music.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Sattler Saint Laurent

When last I tried Weinbau Sattler’s 2006 Saint Laurent, nearly a year ago, it was the standout red of the entire Boutique Wine Collection fall portfolio tasting. Given the promise it showed then, time for a revisit seemed past nigh, so there was more than adequate motivation to dispatch with a bottle. Not to worry, it’s still doing just fine.


Burgenland Saint Laurent, Weinbau Sattler 2006
$20. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: A Terry Theise Selection, Michael Skurnik Wines, Syosset, NY.

A blast of reductive funk quickly blew off after opening to reveal crunchy blueberry compote and boysenberry fruit with a peppery twist of spice. Very much in line with my notes from last year. There’s a dash of volatile acidity too, though far from enough to render the wine unpleasant. Indeed, this isn’t clinically perfect vino. But there’s more than enough charm here to render a few blemishes forgivable.

Deep, vibrant red with very soft tannins, this is wine driven primarily by the freshness of its fruit allied with and carried by bright, snappy acids. Think of the difference between eating a store bought pie, made with syrupy, cloying, canned filling, and a pie made by your grandmother or a good, old school bakery, from fresh fruit. Or think of eating ripe wild berries versus the tamed down versions propagated by commercial fruit growers. There’s plenty of sweetness but also a distinctly tangy character. That structure makes this an eminently food friendly wine, one which I enjoyed well enough with a plate of grilled chicken, onions and zucchini but even more with an after dinner hunk of washed rind cow’s milk cheese. I could keep running with the pie analogy but I think I’ll let your imagination finish the picture….

Monday, August 31, 2009

Random Encounters: Moselle VDQS

One of the beauties of a long-term love affair with the wines of France is that even twenty years into the relationship there are still new things to be discovered, previously unknown corners upon which to stumble.

One such recent encounter was with a wine from the Moselle, a department of the Lorraine region that is sandwiched between Champagne to its west and Alsace to its east, and topped off by Luxembourg directly to the north. The Moselle has been classified as an AOVDQS (Appellation d’Origine Vin Délimité de Qualité Supérieure) since 1951, when the region’s viticultural area first began its recovery from the heavy damages sustained from bombings and trench warfare during World War II. Originally known as Vins de Moselle, the VDQS name was changed simply to Moselle in 1995. Given the impending dissolution of the VDQS system, full AOC status is now being sought for the area.


The city of Metz serves as capital to both the Moselle Department and the region of Lorraine.
View Larger Map

The area under cultivation in the Moselle has fluctuated wildly over the last century, from as much as 6000 hectares at the turn of the 20th Century to just over 1000 when the area was granted VDQS status in 1951 to near extinction in the 1970s. Major varieties are very similar to those in neighboring Alsace – Pinot Auxerrois, Pinot Gris, Pinot Noir, Riesling and Gewurztraminer are all sanctioned – while the area’s cooler climate is reflected in the relative importance of the easy-ripening Müller Thurgau. As the presence of Pinot Noir, along with the Pinot Meunier that carries over from nearby Champagne, suggests, white, red, rosé and sparkling wines are all produced in Moselle. Vineyard soils are made up primarily of pebbly clay and limestone.

Moselle VDQS "Les Gryphées," Château de Vaux 2007
$19. 12.5% alcohol. Nomacorc. Importer: Potomac Selections, Landover, MD.
When Norbert and Marie-Geneviève Molozay purchased Château de Vaux in 1999, the property included 5.5 hectares of the then 39 hectares under vine in the Moselle. The area has since continued its slow recovery, growing to its current size of approximately 54 hectares of vineyards, while the Molozays' estate has expanded to 12.5 hectares.

One of about eleven wines produced at the estate, “Les Gryphées” is Château de Vaux’s everyday white, a blend of 30% Auxerrois, 30% Müller Thurgau, 30% Pinot Gris and 10% Gewurztraminer. Golden straw in tone and slightly shimmering in the glass, the wine’s aromas are evocative of light baking spices, peach nectar, savory herbs and ripe citrus oils. While it displays a fairly clear amalgam of the rich spiciness of Auxerrois and Pinot Gris balanced by the herbaceousness of Müller Thurgau, it’s actually quite a bit subtler than I’d expect from such a blend – medium bodied, low-to-medium acid and reserved in its mouthfeel. Short and relatively simple, it’s nonetheless eminently drinkable and quite food friendly, standing up reasonably well to the assertive flavors of a dish of bratwurst and sauerkraut and even showing a cool, menthol high note as it developed in the glass.

On its second day open, the wine’s acidity felt a touch brighter, its fruit rounder. The nose delivered toned down scents of cantaloupe – sweet and musky but not quite ripe to the point of stinkiness. (If you’ve left a ripe cantaloupe out on the counter this season, you’ll know what I’m talking about.) The parts may be more interesting than the whole, and the wine may take half its interest from its relative obscurity, but I still found it a fine introduction – one I’d be happy to revisit – to the wines from Moselle.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Untitled #2

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Barolo Tasted Blind with the Wine and Spirits Tasting Panel

Though an evening spent at The Ten Bells may have been the chief pleasure of a long day trip to New York last week, the primary impetus for the commute was an invitation to participate in a panel tasting of new/current releases from Piemonte at Wine & Spirits Magazine. I’d read about these tastings on the blogs of W&S editors Wolfgang Weber and Peter Liem, as well as on the pages of my estimable blogging colleague, Brooklynguy. This was my first opportunity to participate so, jazzed at the idea of a day spent tasting tons of wines from Piedmont, I jumped at it.

Recently, I’ve read a couple of good albeit polarizing pieces about blind tasting. Guilhaume Gerard, for instance, f***ing hates it – not blind tasting, per se, so much as the idea of rapid fire sipping, spitting and analyzing, like choosing your life partner based on a single speed dating event. Brooklynguy, on the other hand, sees true merit in the educational aspects of the practice, so much so that he’s put together his own succinct, all-star blind tasting panel. It should be noted, though, that his new group tasted just a few wines in their first outing and, I’m guessing, spent a reasonable amount of time contemplating each one.


At the Wine & Spirits Piemonte panel, though, we tasted blind and in rapid-fire succession – 35 Barolo in the two-hour morning session and 33 Barbera after a break for lunch – in flights ranging anywhere from three to eight wines at a time. It’s no way to really get to know any one wine. And it’s definitely work, not pleasure (though it does help that I like my work). That said, the format – we were not doling out points, just giving a basic yea, nay or undecided about each wine – is not without merit.

It forced me to assess each wine honestly and quickly. Did I like it? Was it balanced? Was it flawed in any way? Was it typical? Elegant or brutish? Drinkable or built to impress?

It’s an interesting way to get a sense of common character (or lack thereof) across a vintage and/or a particular region. It’s also a test of your own steadiness, your ability not to be swayed by the opinions of the other tasters around the table. Perhaps the hardest part, at least for me, was judging each wine on its own merits rather than on its relative performance. The old opulent versus subtle issue wasn’t the problem; I like to think I put that one to rest a long time ago. Rather, I occasionally found myself wanting to vote “yes” for a wine not so much because I liked it as because I found it far less crappy than the wine(s) that had immediately preceded it. Suffice it to say it’s a tough job, but I was more than happy to have the opportunity and would gladly participate again.

So, “What about the wines?” you’re probably asking at this point. After a single, rather lackluster 1999 Barolo from Erbaluna (participants were given a list of the wines at the completion of the tasting), things kicked off in earnest with a string of 19 Barolos from the 2005 vintage, divided into five flights based on their commune of origin. The wines were all over the place, showing the variability in the vintage from commune to commune, where there were issues with hail, rain at harvest and a relatively cool growing season. In a way, that variability made the ‘05s more interesting than the ‘04s to come but 2005 is definitely a vintage where it will pay to know your producers.

From the panel’s majority perspective, the clear standouts among the Barolo producers represented were Renato Ratti and Vietti, with Vietti’s 2005 Barolo “Lazzarito” being the only wine to receive a unanimously positive vote. It’s important to note, though, that the panel’s decision can vary significantly from that of any one taster. All four of Vietti’s entries received “yea” votes from the panel, while I liked only the Lazzarito. I voted yes on nine of the nineteen wines, while the panel ixnayed only three wines in the entire lineup. Most surprising to me was the fact that I liked two of the three wines from Michele Chiarlo, a producer whose wines I’ve normally been inclined to write off as commercial and lacking in character.

After tasting through fifteen Barolo from 2004, which is the primary vintage available on the current market, I think it’s fair to say that it’s a far more consistent vintage than 2005. The wines were more complete, showing much more typical and fully developed aromatic profiles. However, that consistency came with its own problem: alcoholic heat. Over and over again, my notes from the 2004 flights read “hot,” “touch of heat,” or “aggressive.” This time around I found something positive to say about only six of the fifteen wines, while the panel too was more circumspect, giving the thumbs up nine times. Brezza and Boroli both performed solidly, while Ceretto was a clear loser. My favorite wine of the 2004s, though, came from a producer that’s new to me, Serradenari.

I’m running short on time, so my thoughts on the afternoon Barbera session will have to wait....

In closing, as educational as I found the panel tasting experience, it hasn’t changed my mind much about Barolo. Just in case you weren’t sure, I love Barolo. But it should be obvious that I didn’t find all that much to like on this day. Of the 35 wines we tasted, there were only a couple, maybe three, that I’d go out of my way to buy and drink. Where were my favorite producers? No Vajra, no Mascarello, no Giacomo Conterno, no Elio Grasso, no Luigi Baudana… the list goes on. Without them in the field, I can’t help but feel the day’s findings were at least a little incomplete.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

The Ten Bells

The Ten Bells is mysterious.

Not having done a photo study before my first visit to The Ten Bells, I walked back and forth on the short block of Broome Street that runs between Orchard and Ludlow with nary a sign of the place. Literally, that is… no sign. Not even a number to signify the address I’d scribbled on a piece of scrap paper in the wee hours of the morning before taking the early train up to New York. It was only after narrowing down the options then spotting an empty Dard & Ribo bottle as I peered through one of the few unobscured window panes at the spot where I’d stopped that I knew I was in the right place.

The Ten Bells is dark.

It’s one of the few gripes I’d heard about the place. It’s so dark you can barely see what you’re drinking. It’s so dark that I didn’t even bother trying to take my own pictures. (The first two shots here are borrowed, with thanks, from Melissa Hom’s shoot for New York Magazine.)

The Ten Bells is dangerous.

Or at least it would be were it in my neighborhood. If you can squint hard enough to read the wine list, scrawled and crammed onto the chalkboards that flank the east and west walls in The Ten Bells, you’ll find a tremendous array of natural wines from artisan growers, priced fairly and chosen with care by Fifi, Jorge and the rest of the Ten Bells crew.

The stemware may be too tiny to show off the full charms of those wines – about the only other common gripe I’ve heard (or could imagine) – but that makes sense given the marble bars and tight quarters that would wreak havoc on larger, more fragile glasses. It’s also befitting of The Ten Bells vibe. There’s nothing precious about the place. And while there’s a wild wine list, it’s a real neighborhood bar first, a “wine bar” second. The staff behind that bar seemed just as happy to serve up cold beers and shuck oysters on a hot August night as they were to pour glasses of Alice and Olivier De Moor’s 2007 Sauvignon St. Bris from magnum.

My cohort Wolfgang and I agreed that we could drink wines like these – the Burgundy from De Moor and Philippe Bornard’s 2007 Arbois-Pupillin Ploussard “Point Barre” – every day. That Ploussard from Bornard, in particular, was a joy to drink. So brightly hued it could have been fresh-pressed juice; pure, lively and focused, with nothing to weigh down the mind, body or palate.

The food’s no afterthought, either. A lightly smoky, barbecue glazed octopus and potato dish was a standout. Sherry-laced sautéed wild mushrooms, a comfortingly simple dish of brandade, and a generously heaping plate of sliced Serrano ham rounded out a more than satisfying meal, pieced together from The Ten Bell’s small plate menu.

Definitely a dangerous place…. The joint may get crowded as the night wears on, but it’s a good buzz. And as long as they’re serving it up like this, I’ll keep heading back.

The Ten Bells
247 Broome Street [map]
New York, NY 10002
(212) 228-4450
Ten Bells on Urbanspoon
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