Wines at the Spring Table

One of the most enjoyable aspects of my day job on the retail wine sales floor is helping people select wines to pair not just with their Monday night pizza but also with really specific dishes. It can be an overly fetishistic process, I know, but when the stars align, the end results can also deliver an amazing amount of pleasure. That’s exactly what I shoot for, and exactly why I enjoy the challenge.

One of my favorite challenges in that context is recommending the wine pairings to accompany the seasonal menu at Talula’s Table, something I’ve been doing on a more or less monthly basis ever since the inception of their farmhouse table dinners. When I have the opportunity to eat there myself, I’ll sometimes take exactly what I’ve recommended. The occasional self-test is always a good thing. Just as often, though, I’ll pull wines from my own cellar, always with an eye to the food but also with an eye toward fun and exploration as well. On this trip, it was mostly the latter….


Nahe Riesling halbtrocken, Schäfer-Fröhlich 2006
$19. 11.5% alcohol. Cork. Rudi Wiest Selections, Cellars International, San Marcos, CA.
Very approachable if somewhat muted, and definitely a good starting point for the meal. There’s a subtle vegetal sense at the wine’s middle but overall it’s driven by flavors of orange oil and red slate spiciness… I’m guessing there’s a measurable dose of Frühlingsplätzchen fruit included. Its acidity is slightly lower than usual (most likely a vintage signature) but not in a bad way; it made the wine gentle and beckoning rather than flat. A still lingering dash of residual CO2 helped keep things lively.

I’ve heard great things about the ’07 version – which I believe follows the current fashion of dropping “halbtrocken” from the label – but have yet to have the opportunity to try it. (As a matter of trivia, winemaker Tim Fröhlich is a member of the VdP’s Junge Generation.)


Wachau Unterloiben Ried Loibenberg Loibner Grüner Veltliner Smaragd, Weingut Emmerich Knoll 2002
$26. 13% alcohol. Cork. Vin di Vino, Chicago, IL.
As much as there is to detest about Pennsylvania’s state controlled liquor and wine system and as much as I’m prone to gripe about it (here’s a recent example), I can’t say it’s not without the occasional accidental merit. You just have to have patience and do a little foraging to find it. Case in point, I stumbled upon this ’02 Knoll Smaragd GV not long ago. It was priced at an already reasonable $33 – the current vintage goes for upwards of $50 – then marked down further to $26. There being no visible suggestions of damage or foul play, I rolled the dice and grabbed a bottle. Good move.

Weingut Knoll is unquestionably one of the top producers in the Wachau. The wines are made in a non-interventionist fashion, with the emphasis always being on quality of fruit and expression of terroir. Most of their wines are fermented in steel, aged in wood (purely for oxidative effect, not for oaky flavors of any kind) and are built to last.

At seven years, this Loibenberg Grüner Veltliner has assumed an almost day-glo yellow color, like classic Gatorade diluted with Pilsner. The inherent flesh of a Smaragd wine has come out with rest in the bottle; its acidity totally resolved and mellow. Immediate impressions were of lemon confit, white peaches and truffled minerals. The typical peppery character of younger and/or lighter styles of GV, if ever present in this wine, had completely dissipated. On day two – leftovers are usually “handled” by the crew in the kitchen but some of this was definitely coming home with me – the wine improved if anything. The peach fruit took on a spicy nuance while the minerality became more profound yet simultaneously more delicate. Aromas were of heady white and yellow blossoms, followed on the palate and down the gullet by light marmalade, clover honey and a suggestion of malted mocha. As delicious as it is now I’d drink up if you’re holding any, though if you have more than a couple of bottles it could be academically interesting to hold one for a few more years.


Saint-Joseph “Lautaret,” Eric & Joël Durand 2005
$30. 13% alcohol. Cork. Fruit of the Vines, New York, NY.
This was my first encounter with the wines of Domaine Durand, so a little research is in order. Brothers Eric and Joël took over their family estate in 1991. Their farm comprises a total of thirteen hectares (eight in Saint-Joseph and five in Cornas) planted to mostly granitic soils. They grow only Syrah and produce solely red wines in, by their own admission, a fairly modern style.

They didn’t need to tell me that, though, as this comes out of the gates with a dense, rich and developed fruit attack, all wrapped up in a sash of spicy oak. There’s definitely some good raw material here but the wine, for me, came across as dull, muddied by overly concentrated fruit and lacking the hothouse flower and pepper scents I associated with more transparent expressions of Saint-Joseph rouge. In its defense, it did gain interest with some time in the glass, developing a little earthy, mushroomy nuance. But not enough to send me scampering back for more.

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Spring at Talula's Table: The Food

As promised, we’re back in action today with a few words to add background flavor to yesterday’s foray into photojournalism.

It’s been more than a year now since Franz Lidz’s story for Condé Nast Portfolio and Alex Chadwick’s feature on NPR brought Talula’s Table – the country’s toughest reservation, according to Lidz – to seemingly worldwide attention. The year that’s followed has seen the demise, among other things, of some of Philadelphia’s top restaurants as well as of Portfolio. But Talula’s is still going strong. Reservations are still being taken a year out to the day for that elusive spot at their farmhouse table.

Suffice it to say that I’m not a guy who plans much of anything, especially not a meal, a full year out. So the kitchen table at Talula’s, which seats two-to-six people rather than the eight-to-twelve in the main room and is more of a locals-only or by-invitation affair, has been a bit of a blessing in allowing me to sneak in for the occasional short notice meal whipped up by one of the most talented kitchen crews around.

A few weeks back now, only a day or two after thinking it had been way too long, I got the call-up letting me know there had been a last minute cancellation. I jumped.

Amuse Bouche

A new twist since my last visit, hors d’oeuvre have been added to the array of courses, ostensibly to provide guests with something to tame their bellies during the 30-40 minute period between arrival at 7:00 (market closing time) and seating for the first course. Tuna tartare with queso fresco and parmiggiano frito (at left) and Toscana salami with taleggio and pickled peppers. The salami was chopped and lashed with a mustard-rich sauce. Addictively good.

Spring Radish Maxime, Sweet Butter, Balinese Salt, Chives and Smoked Local Rockfish Salad

When preparing the same menu six or seven nights a week for a month at a time, it’s only natural that there will be – and should be – an evolution of certain dishes, whether due to shifting availability of ingredients or to refinements in preparation. Given the menu description, I’d expected radishes to play the starring role. Apparently they did in early April, but by the end of the month this course had morphed toward a reversal of the dish description, with lightly smoked rockfish filet taking center stage and radishes serving as seasonal accent.

Shaved Scallops, Our Bacon, Creamy Anson Mills Heirloom Polenta and Lettuce Sauce

I love scallops. The huge specimen you see above is a Barnegat Light sea scallop – local and about as fresh as it gets unless you’re eating them on the boat. I love bacon. This was house made, then frozen, micro-planed and air dried for 24 hours to form “bacon dust” as a seasoning for the dish. I loved the anise overtone provided by a sprig or two of chervil. But it was the supporting player, the polenta from heirloom grain specialist Anson Mills, that stole the show. Cooked with nothing more than water and a pinch of salt, it was freakishly delicious, a textbook example of why it’s so important to work with quality ingredients.

Goat Cheese Gnocchi, Morning Picked Mushrooms, Sherry Scented Butter Sauce

In one preparation or another, goat cheese gnocchi have been a core element in Bryan Sikora’s arsenal ever since the early days at Django. In one of their more refined presentations, they served here as a grounding base for the bright, seasonal flavors of sherried butter sauce, snappy local mushrooms and quick-pickled spring vegetables.

Catalan Seafood Stew, Preserved Lemon and Spanish Saffron

For whatever reason, I’d expected a zesty, sausage-laced stew. Instead, full flavored tuna, squid and sea bass were the clear focus of this dish, backed up by saffron infused fish broth and hearty tomato fondue.

Tender Poussin and Crisp Veal Sweetbread Sauté, Fingerlings, Fiddleheads and Verjus

As much as I loved the scallop course (did I say “love” enough times?) and even though the sweetbreads were over breaded, this was my favorite plate of the night. Great depth of flavor; perfectly organic and harmonious.

Composition of Chester County Grass Fed Lamb

The poussin and potatoes were both done two ways in the previous dish. Here we had a lamb triple play: lamb loin cooked sous-vide and seasoned with harissa; lamb confit; and a lamb meatball with a breadstick handle (a play on the classic lollipop lamb chop, just in case you hadn’t figured that out). And yes, that’s a ramp atop the loin. (Lest you think I’ve already broken Sunday’s promise, this meal actually preceded my adventures in ramp acquisition and preparation.) The meatball recipe would be great scaled-up to make meatloaf. Absolutely killer comfort food.

Sheep Milk Cheeses from Near and Far

From left to right: Fleur du Maquis (Corsica); Caña de Oveja (Murcia, Spain); Queso de la Serena (Extremadura, Spain); Pecorino Mugolano (Tuscany, Italy); Blu di Langa (Piedmont, Italy); Benedictine (Carr Valley Creamery, Wisconsin).

Meyer Lemon Egg Cream and Springtime Confections

Clockwise, starting with the egg: Meyer lemon egg cream, with meyer lemon custard, candied ginger, citrus zest, candied mint and yogurt crema; lemon pound cake with lemon curd; white chocolate macaron; vanilla snap cookie. Delicious stuff all around. Pastry chef Claire Shears, who’s rarely if ever on hand for the dinner shift, doesn’t get the attention she deserves. Patent that candied mint and sell it by the pound, guys, and people wouldn't have to wait a year to get a taste.

(Wine notes posted under separate cover.)

Talula's Table
102 W. State Street
Kennett Square, PA 19348 [map]
610-444-8255


Previous visits:

• April 2007
  
• October 2007
  
• December 2007
  
• April 2008
  
• July 2008
  
• November 2008

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Spring at Talula's Table

Photos for now, words to come, speculation welcome.

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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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Name That Wine

Just for fun while I'm getting a full post together, here's a shot of a cork that was drawn during the cooking fest that followed Sunday's ramp romp. Bonus points to anyone who can name the wine* (click the photo for an enlarged view). You have until around midday tomorrow, so don't delay.

* Other participants in said wining and dining event excluded.

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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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Jenny, François, the PLCB and Me

It’s rare that wines brought into the US by many of our country’s most individualistic importers make their way onto the shelves in Pennsylvania’s state controlled liquor stores. The very nature of the PA system – which treats wine no differently than a widget, flexing its muscle to buy lots cheap rather than focusing on quality – works against the small importer. Once in a while though, a “SKU” or two from the likes of Neal Rosenthal, Kermit Lynch or Rudi Wiest, to name a few, will sneak onto the shelves. More often than not, they find their way there via a distributor’s closeout sale; they’re never marked as such, so it’s a buyer beware situation. Sometimes the deals are good; sometimes they’re too good to be true. Sometimes they’re not a deal at all. Nonetheless, I’ll occasionally throw at least some element of caution to the wind and snap up a bottle or two.

Here are notes on just such a couple of wines I picked up in the last few months. I was so surprised to see anything from New York based natural wine specialists Jenny & François on the shelves in PA that I couldn’t pass up the chance. Call it part of my never-ending search for diversity and deliciousness or, if you’re feeling less charitable, my continuing willful naiveté.


Côtes de Duras Blanc, Château Haut Lavigne (Nadia Lusseau) 2007
$17. 12.5% alcohol. Plastic. Importer: Jenny & François Selections, World Wide Wine, USA Wine Imports, New York, NY.
The Côtes de Duras is a relatively large (over 2,000 hectares) but nonetheless relatively obscure AOC sandwiched between Bergerac to the north and the Marmandais to the south, roughly ESE of Bordeaux. “Un vignoble, une femme, des vins…” reads Nadia Lusseau’s label. Like most of the producers in the Jenny & François portfolio, Mme. Lusseau farms naturally, vinifies her wines on their natural yeasts and adds only minimum amounts of sulfur. Her Côtes de Duras blanc is a blend of 80% Sauvignon Blanc and 20% Semillon. Whether it’s the work of those indigenous yeasts, the effects of slow, gentle pressing or an expression of Duras terroir I’m not sure, but this bears little in the way of the typical Sauvignon/Semillon aroma stamp. There are lots of lime juice and lime blossom flavors and aromas, maybe a little hay, but little if anything in the way of meadow flowers, grass or other citrus elements. In fact, this might easily be taken for any number of other Southwestern whites, brisk, silvery and slightly mineral but otherwise relatively indistinct.

Côtes du Rhône Villages Signargues “Domaine Grès St. Vincent,” Les Vignerons d’Estezargues 2006
$17. 14.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Jenny & François Selections, World Wide Wine, USA Wine Imports, New York, NY.
I’ve been struggling to find any Southern Rhône reds that excite me of late. I normally wouldn’t turn to a co-op wine in search of excitement, but there are, of course, always exceptions to the rule. Just think of Produttori del Barbaresco, for example. This wine comes from an atypical cooperative, Les Vignerons d’Estezargues, which since the mid-1990s has been bottling single-estate wines from several of its larger producer-members and, since the late ‘90s, has been following a natural winemaking regime.

Totally unremarkable when first opened, this eventually opened up to show quite a pleasant nose of kirsch, ripe raspberries, black pepper and garrigue. If it’s really 14.5% as labeled, it sure wasn’t showing it. Soft texture, gentle tannins and surprisingly fresh acidity (for Grenache). Though not quite exciting, there was enough vivacity to make it food friendly and to help it go down easy. You’ll find a profile on the Estezargues co-op, along with the usual great photos, at Bert Celce’s Wine Terroirs.

So what was all my introductory griping about?

Though neither of these wines was incredibly distinctive, they were both perfectly sound and perfectly enjoyable. If you're in New York, you should expect to pay about $12 for each of these wines – just about dead-on budget-wise given their overall qualities. At that price, I might even go back for more. But here in PA they'll set you back $17 (closer to $18 after sales tax), just one of the many vagaries of our state’s entrenched, outmoded monopoly.

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