Delaware Shore Report: Fins Fish House & Raw Bar

Today's post takes us all the way back to mid-October when my wife and I made our third annual autumn pilgrimage to the Delaware shore. This year's trip falling hot on the heels of our adventures in NorCal, we cut things back from a full week to a long weekend. And this year, for the first time, the weather gods did not smile upon us. In three days, the torrential rain let up only once for all of about ninety minutes, just long enough to get the boys out for a quick jaunt on what was left of the storm-battered beach.

Now that we've had our first snow here in the Mid-Atlantic – just enough to coat the landscape with a thin layer of crunchy white icing – it's about time I get to today's topic before it gets any further out of season. Then again, now that we've entered the heart of oyster season, perhaps this is actually prime time to be trotting out a quick write-up of Fins Fish House & Raw Bar.

We had little in the way of expectations walking into Fins. The name hinted at potential cheesiness. But Fins had been recommended by friends and we were both in the mood for a change from our usual Dogfish Head fallback, so we decided to give it a whirl. Happily, our lunch at Fins was not only surprisingly good but turned out to be the gustatory highlight of our rain-soaked trip.

The shoulder-to-shoulder crowd of locals slurping down pints and bivalves at the nautically themed ground floor bar was certainly a good sign, even if it did take a few minutes for a staff member to direct us to the more spacious upper floor bar and dining room.


Upstairs, the decor shifts from the nautical blue of the ground floor bar and dining rooms to an amalgam of British pub and American tschotschke.


Coniston Bluebird Bitter: one of my favorite session beers and one of the best values on Fins' impressive beer list.
A quick scan of Fins' wine list continued to build upon our feeling that we'd come to the right place. Though populated mostly by the typical beach town commercial offerings, it's one of the few lists I've yet to come across at the DE shore that actually included a couple of wines I'd like to drink — Albert Mann Pinot Blanc and Vouvray from Domaine des Aubuisières — as opposed to bottles I could only settle on and suffer through. The real decider, though, was the beer list. Sure, there's the ubiquitous Coors Light and Yuengling happy hour special and the de rigueur offerings of Corona and Amstel Light but, beyond that, someone at Fins clearly knows and loves their brews. Their constantly rotating draft selection is anchored by a well chosen if slightly hop-skewed bottle list, which eschews the local powerhouse (Dogfish Head is practically right across the street, after all) in favor of bottlings from some of America's top craft brewers, all backed up by a pretty solid selection of British and Belgian imports.



What about the food, you ask? As with the beer program, I was pleased to find that it far outperformed my usual expectations of shore town pub grub. My wife's seafood chowder starter was supremely satisfying, just the thing to melt away the rainy day chill in the bones and a dish I'd love to try to replicate by the cauldron-full at home. Opting for oysters, I was initially put off by the minimum order of three of any one type, as a single serving of each of the six varieties on the day's board would have been just right. The two types that I settled on, though, were in prime shape, well shucked and went down easy with a pint of Rogue's Dead Guy Ale.

I continued the oyster theme, selecting a po'boy as my main course. With the oysters fried to a crispy, crunchy exterior yet still perfectly tender and juicy inside, the sandwich paled to its New Orleans cousin only via a near second place in the condiment department. The wife scored again, with a perfectly cooked and seasoned Mahi Mahi fish sandwich. Now, when that fish sandwich hankering calls, I need only drive the two hours south to Rehoboth rather than make the trip all the way to The Fish House in Key Largo.

Rain or shine, between Fins and Dogfish Head, I've definitely found my favorite block of Rehoboth Beach.

FINS Fish House & Raw Bar
243 Rehoboth Avenue
Rehoboth Beach, DE 19971
(302) 226-3467

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The New York Finger Lakes Riesling Shootout

So, there's this guy Lenn who, for the last couple of months, has been encouraging my friend Joe Roberts (aka, 1 Wine Dude) and I to get together and taste a bunch of Rieslings from the Finger Lakes. It's all part of a program called Taste NY – Lenn Thompson is its founder, prime champion and chief sample sender – that's designed to get wines from New York state in front of a select group of wine/food bloggers and, thenceforth goes the hope, into the public eye.

The stars and schedules having finally aligned, last night was to be the night. Joe and I, along with our significant others, descended on Teikoku, a member of the Win Signature Restaurants group, where the owners and staff had graciously allowed us to BYO6B (that's "bring your own six bottles," y'all). Rather than just conducting a quick sip, swish and spit routine, we'd decided to taste and imbibe along with a table full of sushi in order to get the complete picture of how the wines work both on their own and with food.

I half expected to walk into the restaurant and find Joe, who was the recipient and caretaker of the bottles in question, with the wines already bagged and lined up for blind tasting. But nope, he'd opted to keep things open and easy, simply taking a best guess at the appropriate tasting order. In keeping with that approach, there was no doling out of points – just tasting, consideration, discussion and a modicum of note taking. Below you'll find my own take on the six Finger Lakes Rieslings we tasted, listed according to my order of preference.

1. Hermann J. Wiemer Dry Riesling 2007 (12% alcohol, $18):
   With a snoot full of slate and diesel oriented aromas, the Wiemer had the most precise nose of the bunch. Though labeled as dry, the wine felt to me like what the Germans would call halbtrocken or medium dry, not because of a high concentration of sugars but rather due to the gentle attack of its acidity. With our food, I wouldn't have minded just a touch more cut but then I am a bit of an acid freak.... It still worked admirably and, in fact, was both finely balanced and very persistent on the finish, marred only slightly by a just noticeable dash of sulfur. Unquestionably the most Mosel-like of the line-up and, for me, the most complete wine and the best overall value of the night. I'm pretty sure it took top spot among the group consensus as well.
   
   
2. Red Newt Cellars Riesling "Reserve" 2006 (12% alcohol, $24):
   Like the Wiemer, Red Newt's Reserve Riesling was not terribly RS-rich (5 grams/liter, per the back label) but definitely showed a graceful kiss of up-front sweetness before resolving to a fairly dry finish. Delicacy was the word here. Very clean and polished wine, with a pretty nose of yellow grapefruit and elderflower. A slightly bitter finish – think of the pith from that same yellow grapefruit – worked with the wine's medium acidity to make it a solid pairing with our sushi assortment.
   
   
   
3. Fox Run Vineyards Riesling 2008 (12% alcohol, $14):
   This was the first wine we tasted and I was quite surprised by the ferocity and grippiness of its acids. Though labeled as just left of center on the wine's rear label "sweetometer" (with all due credit to Mrs. Wine Dude for her coinage), this was actually quite dry both up front and on the finish, showing its hint of sweetness only on the mid-palate. (Its slight off-dry character became more obvious when revisiting it later in the evening at a slightly warmer serving temperature.) Green apple and yellow apple skin flavors dominated on the palate, along with hints of baked lemon and mace. A touch of volatile acidity (VA) in the wine's top-notes and a slight vegetal hint kept this from moving higher up the ladder. Nonetheless, a pretty solid wine, especially at its sub-$15 price point.
   
   
4. Dr. Konstantin Frank Dry Riesling 2007 (12% alcohol, $17):
   Soft and by a good shot the lowest acid of the evening's lineup, this was also the most disappointing wine of the night for me because I know that Dr. Frank can do better. It places fourth only because I found greater flaws in the following two wines. Very gentle and round, with a faintly floral nose followed up by apricot nectar on the palate, where the wine otherwise lacked focus and washed out, particularly when tasted with food.
   
   
5. Heron Hill Winery Riesling "Old Vines" 2005 (13% alcohol, $24):
   At 13%, this was the biggest wine of the night. That extra dose of power resulted in an aggressive finish, with the wine's flavors not able to stand up to the intensity of its structure. There was some interest here. In fact, the wine reminded me a little of one of the old white Riojas from Lopez de Heredia; however, it didn't have the fruit, the balance or the nuance to carry things off. Very truffly and a touch oxidative, this also showed a touch of VA. My biggest complaint, though, is that I found this to be much more developed than I'd expect at only four years of age; it was nearly bereft of fruit. I can't help but wonder if the wine wouldn't have survived and worked better if finished at a slightly lower alcohol level (higher RS level).
   
   
6. Sheldrake Point Vineyard Riesling "Reserve" 2006 (12.1% alcohol, $26):
   If anything, this was even more intensely vinous and powerful on the palate than the Heron Hill. Though showing the darker fruited flavors of its bit of age, the wine was still quite yeasty on the nose and lacked aromatic vibrancy. Hot on the finish, overtly muscular and unbalanced, this was definitely an example of a wine marked by over-extraction at the expense of fruit. Though arguably less flawed than the wine I slotted into fifth place, it was also less compelling.

If there's a lesson to be learned here, it's that the importance of balance in a wine should always come before the achievement of dryness (or any other stylistic expression), no matter what the market and prevailing tastes dictate. I'd absolutely purchase Wiemer's Riesling for my own drinking pleasure and would definitely consider doing the same with the wines from Red Newt and Fox Run. But I can't say the same for wines four through six.

All in all, even though my results were pretty clearly split right down the middle, I found the tasting persuasive enough that a trip up the Finger Lakes might just be in order for sometime in the impending New Year.

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Six Months Until Philly Beer Week

The countdown is alive and kicking... only six months to the 2010 edition of Philly Beer Week. You can watch the seconds tick by and keep an eye on updates and, eventually, the event calendar at PBW's official website.

I'm particularly jazzed by Philly Beer Week's move on the calendar from its past place during the blustery weeks of early March. This year PBW shifts to early June, which means that it will coincide with what, if all things go well this year, is essentially Philly Bike Week and its hallmark event, the Philadelphia International Cycling Championship. I'm picturing a Beer Week event right on Lemon Hill, where the best local crowds gather to watch the race. Maybe a shootout between Victory Brewing Company (who are long-time sponsors of local racing outfit, Tri-State Velo) and Iron Hill Brewery (who sponsor an annual twilight criterium in downtown West Chester). Can't think of a much better venue, with a built-in audience of thirsty beer and cycling enthusiasts.

For those of you who can't wait, you can always get a head start at the 2nd Annual Half Way to Philly Beer Week celebration (link requires a Facebook account) that starts tonight and continues through December 13 at Bridgid's in Fairmount. And for any that can't wait to slake that joint thirst for cycling and suds, head on over to Kung Fu Necktie on Sunday afternoon for a little indoor roller racing. Something tells me there might just be a category for fastest sprint while holding a pint.

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Parc Revisited

Yet another Ars Nova Workshop event, this one held at the Philadelphia Art Alliance, was all the incentive I needed to book an early reservation at Parc on a recent Friday night. The idea of sitting down to a meal and then, belly sated, not having to go more than fifty yards for the move from table to musical venue was just too appealing. Besides, I'd been wanting to revisit Parc, Stephen Starr's bistro parisien, for quite some time. A very promising first visit, spent at the sidewalk cafe, was followed up quickly by a less resounding success in the side room of the main restaurant that was marred by awkward service, poor table location and a rather soupy rendition of cassoulet.


This time around, the stars seemed better aligned. Our window table, overlooking Rittenhouse Square and within full people-watching view of the bar, was ready and waiting at our appointed hour. First courses were prepared classically and to a deft turn. The salade lyonnaise captured the fine balance required of the dish, contrasting the richness of lardons and poached egg with the bitter snap of fresh frisée and delicate acidity of a light vinaigrette. Having already set my sights on red meat for my main course, I opted to exercise at least a little restraint with my starter, a side dish of sauteed spinach that was tender, simple and savory.


Based on the solid success of our plats principaux, the short lived tenure of Parc's opening chef, Dominique Filoni, as well as the recent departure of Chef Arthur Cavaliere, don't seem to have put too hard a stumble in the kitchen's stride. My steak frites was pretty spot-on, seared just long enough to provide a well caramelized exterior crust while keeping the interior juicy and rare. Amply dressed with maître d' butter, it balanced the inherently muscular texture of hangar steak with an unmistakably melt-in-your-mouth appeal. My dining partner's roasted salmon was perhaps less decadent but was no less well prepared – the fish tender and moist, anchored by the earthiness of black trumpet mushrooms and pureed fennel, and brightened by the lively spark of fresh chervil.

One place where Parc has taken a downward slide over the course of the past year is with their wine list. Quite promising, at least by Philadelphia standards, in its earlier renditions, the wine program has since moved away from a balance between safe and adventurous selections and drifted much more toward the mass market, price point driven end of the spectrum. There are still some arguably decent values to be found at the upper end of the list – 1994 Ampeau Meursault "La Pièce Sous le Bois" for $200, anyone? – as well as a few out of the ordinary holdovers from the original list, such as Patrick Bottex's NV Bugey-Cerdon "La Cueille." But I struggled to find much of real interest in the still, red department. In all fairness, though, I was quite happy with the wine on which I eventually settled, a 2006 Côte de Nuits Villages from Domaine Gachot-Monot, a producer with whose wines I was unfamiliar but that I recognized as part of Kermit Lynch's import portfolio (I'm still waiting to find a wine list that includes importer information). Reductive at first pour, the wine quickly opened to reveal copious, juicy red fruits; surprisingly ripe and rich for and '06 and not at all a bad match with both my steak and my companion's salmon.

I've griped in this forum before about Stephen Starr's business model of placing style and theatrics before food and wine. Somehow, though, now at Parc as in the '90s at L'Ange Bleu, when he does it French, he seems to get it right. The spectacle is still there but it's backed up by at least a little substance.

Parc
227 S. 18th Street (at Locust)
Philadelphia, PA 19103
(215) 545-2262

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Meeting People Sucks

I just finished watching the 1999 documentary film "Radiohead: Meeting People Is Easy." It was my second effort, the first having failed, a couple of years ago, at around the half-way point. The work has not survived the test of time; all that great opportunity to capture meaningful interviews and concert footage wasted by the filmmakers' desire to disconcert. What we're left with 10-12 years after its recording and release – though it may have been attractively edgy in its moment – is a painfully artsy filmic flagellation. (How's that for painfully artsy?)

If the film does capture something accurately, it's the immaturity and misery of a band that, in spite of those self-insufficiencies, managed to turn out some of the most important music of their generation; happily, whatever the band members' current emotional states may be, Radiohead is still doing the same. In spite of the documentary's shortcomings, one can't help but be amazed that such seemingly morose, disconnected young men were able to put together such persuasively moving music.

Now that I think about, away from the TV and writing, maybe the intentional disconnectedness of the film was appropriate. Here's a clip. Judge for yourself....

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Questioning Taste

Seemingly conceived as a rags-to-riches story, "Taste: A Life in Wine" is Anthony Terlato's autobiographical chronicle of his life's work, from his childhood days in Brooklyn to his current position as an American wine industry magnate. Though I expect the publisher has targeted Mr. Terlato's work for the wine and food shelves at your local bookseller, it would actually be more appropriately placed in the motivational business section, under the subheading of: "Here's how I made my millions; maybe you can do it too."

"Taste" follows Terlato from his early work within his family's retail and local distribution businesses through an ever-increasing entrepreneurial arc of growth as he builds hugely successful brands such as Corvo and, later, Santa Margherita. Yep, he's the man responsible for the Pinot Grigio-zation of America.

Occasionally, Mr. Terlato delves into wine itself as a primary context, as in the following passage:

"It was not until a producer with the stature and marketing clout of Antinori defied the DOC Chianti regulations with his 1971 Tignanello (not released until 1978) that the Super-Tuscan wines gained critical mass. By the early 1980s, scores of other notable Chianti producers began releasing élite reds. These wines were so impressive that the humble designation vino da tavola became a badge of honor for Italian wines."

More often, though, wine serves simply as subtext for stories of the author's successes and exploits: dinners with the Mondavi family; meetings with the reclusive Gallos, with Paul Bocuse and Alexis Lichine; using 1947 Cheval Blanc to make a pan sauce... the list goes on.

I was happily surprised to find the author sharing one of my own approaches to the subjective magic of pairing food and wine: "There is a natural harmony between wines from a particular region and dishes made with vegetables and meat that are cultivated nearby." It's his take on the old "what grows together goes together" adage. Sadly, it's undermined by the recipes that serve as chapter breaks in Terlato's work. Included, it would seem, to add a dash of hominess and true, personal nuance to the book, those intentions and Terlato's words are undermined by the wine pairing suggestions, all of which are items found in Terlato's own business portfolio.

All in all, "Taste" is an easy, relatively breezy read. For those with an interest in the formative stages of the modern American wine market, the book may prove to hold some interest. For those with a personal connection to Mr. Terlato himself, the book may prove a real pleasure. For those approaching the book with an expectation that it may actually be about wine, however, the book is more likely to prove a rather self-indulgent recounting of one man's rise to fame and success, with wine simply serving as the widget of choice.

* * *

Disclosure: An advance readers copy of "Taste" was provided at no cost to me by Agate Publishing. Should you wish to purchase your own copy, here's my own little stab at entrepreneurialism to make it easy.

Terlato, Anthony, "Taste: A Life in Wine," Surrey Books, Agate Publishing, 2008.



In related news:
I chose the passage regarding Tignanello over a handful of others that might have been appropriate in homage to yesterday's probing post by Brooklynguy and the "emergency" response from Do Bianchi, both of which address Tignanello and the Super-Tuscan genre. Well timed, gentlemen.

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A Few Good Wines

With a birthday and Thanksgiving separated by only a couple of days in the past week, there were no shortage of reasons to open a few good bottles. Today though, just a few quick impressions, as these were enjoyed for the pure sake of pleasure, at the table and without any note taking or overt analysis.


Vouvray "Clos du Bourg" Sec, Huet 2005
A really glorious bottle. Redolent of wet wool and damp clay when first opened then growing ever rounder and more honey and herb laced as the bottle grew emptier. I need to drink Vouvray more often... and I really need to drink Huet more often.

Nuits-St.-Georges "Les Grandes Vignes," Domaine Daniel Rion 2001
When last I tasted this, it provided a much needed breath of fresh air. The better part of two-and-a-half years later, it's continued to develop and continues to surprise, taking on greater weight with its slumber in the cellar. Rich red fruit laced with dark spice notes and beautifully ripe, round tannins. The wines of Domaine Daniel Rion are made in a very reductive style that can render them ungiving when young but, when all things are right, they can develop very nicely given a few years of patience.

Bacharacher Kloster Fürstental Riesling Brut Sekt, Weingut Ratzenberger 2000
This proves to be maturing more rapidly than the 1998, 1999 or 2001 versions of Ratzenberger's Sekt. Perhaps that's not surprising given the wet conditions in the fall of 2000. In any event, this has gone very much toward the truffle and oily end of the mineral spectrum, leaving behind much of the bright citrus and orchard fruits of this wine's youth. Still damn tasty but it's definitely time to drink up now.

Morgon "Côte du Py," Jean Foillard 2008
I thought it was fun. My wife thought it was serious. You know what? We were both right. Foillard's wines combine airy grace and delicacy with a depth that can be explored or simply accepted as fits the moment. The '08 may still be lacking something at its core but I think it's only a matter of time before everything settles into place. Even now it's delicious, with pure small red berry fruit allied to an earthy savor that made it a great match on the Thanksgiving table, especially with the turkey and the sourdough/shiitake/sage stuffing. (PS: Guilhaume published a neat photo essay at The Wine Digger a couple of weeks back on his visit with Foillard.)

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This is a Thanksgiving Post

My boys. Two of the many things for which I'm thankful every day.
Happy Thanksgiving, all!

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This is Not a Thanksgiving Post

Thanksgiving has long been one of my favorite holidays. A time to share food, wine and festivities in the company of friends, family and loved ones. Working in the wine trade, though, Thanksgiving is also one of the busiest, most frenetic times of year. Christmas may surpass it as the holiday for which the most wine is sold but no holiday, not even Xmas, drives a single, repetitive mission with such ferocity: "What should I drink with Thanksgiving?" There's not even a need to mention the food, the tradition is such a given.


After days and days of answering the same question over and over again, there are nights when the last thing I want to do is have to think about what I'll drink myself. Or what I'll cook for that matter. I just want comfort. The comfort of familiar surroundings, a simple meal and a wine that I know so well that drinking it is like getting together with an old friend. Funny thing is, what I reached for on just such an evening earlier this week was a wine I'd been recommending all week long for the TG feast. But I wasn't about to cook turkey.

So, without further ado, here's what to drink with Thanksgiving... if you're having pork chops.

Nahe Riesling "Lenz," Emrich-Schönleber 2008
$24. 11.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
"Lenz" is an archaic German word for the season of spring. Though not labeled as such, it is Werner and Frank Schönleber's halbtrocken offering, a bottling that's replaced several different pradikat and vineyard designated halbtrocken bottlings they had produced before simplifying and reconceptualizing their portfolio along VDP lines a few years back. It's what Lars Carlberg of Mosel Wine Merchant might call a "dry tasting Riesling," a wine that contains a measurable element of residual sugar but finishes with a completely dry sensation, driven home by mouthwatering acidity and an intense dose of minerality.

The 2008 is punchier and seems drier than did the 2007. It's nervous as a tightrope walker in training. Schönleber's wines, even the theoretically simple ones like this, can take years to really show their stuff. They're delicious when young, so much so that it can be hard not to drink the whole bottle. I always get the distinct feeling when drinking them this young, though, that I'm only seeing part of the picture; yet that part carries a distinct imprint of the whole. Like seeing a young girl who's cute in a gangly way today but you just know will be dangerous in a few years. Or like admiring an orchid in partial bloom.

I'm not sure I can really improve on the producer's own cleverly concise tasting note: "Vineyard peach, animating acidity, 'Spring fever' in the mouth."

It was great with pork chops. Salt, pepper, a light rub of olive oil and a quick turn on the grill. A buttered baked potato and a simple salad. Couldn't get much simpler, I don't think, or more comforting. But yeah, it'll work just fine with turkey, too.

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Ribeira Sacra "Alodio"

There was a time in my life, in my earlier days of wine exploration, when I drank Spanish wine much more often than I do at present. Rioja, Ribera del Duero, Bierzo, Albarino and wines of any number of other regions, vines or styles were just as likely to grace my table as were the wines of France, Northern Italy and Germany that more typically find their way home with me now. I think that's a fairly typical pattern in the evolution of the exploration of any field, whether it be art, music, science or, in this case, wine. Fields narrow, focus intensifies. The urge to dig deep overcomes the tendency to dabble on a more piecemeal basis. Once those roots have grown, though, the desire to venture outward returns. And the country that most often calls me back, much more so than Australia or the US, is Spain.

But where to start? I've definitely fallen into the same trap as others, where Spanish wine begins and ends with R. Lopez de Heredia, along with the occasional dalliance with Sherry. Aside from that, too much of what I have drunk over the last decade has been either dried out and bereft of expression or pumped up into something jammy and homogeneous. Recently, however, I've made some intriguing initial excursions into Ribeira Sacra, a tiny, hilly, cool climate area of Galicia that's been receiving loads of attention of late from wine writers such as Eric Asimov and Gerry Dawes. I enjoyed an eye-opening bottle of Guimaro's Ribeira Sacra "B1P" at NOPA in San Francisco earlier this fall and more recently checked in with the following, a recommendation from both Old School Joe and the Spanish wine buyer at NYC's Chambers Street Wines.


Ribeira Sacra Summum "Alodio" Mencía, Enológica Témera (Bodegas Costoya) 2008
$15. 13% alcohol. Diam. Importer: A José Pastor Selection, Vinos & Gourmet, Richmond, CA.
Enológica Témera is a small estate, with five hectares of vines and an annual production of about 4,000 cases, located in the Riberas do Sil subregion of Ribeira Sacra. Winemaker Carlos Costoya's entry-level red, this cuvée of "Alodio" is a varietal expression of the local vine Mencía. (There's a white version as well, made from Godello.) Though this is true Mencía, rather than the Galician strain of Cabernet Franc that is also rather confusingly known as Mencía, there's nonetheless a familial resemblance here to cool climate Cab Franc.

Medium purplish-red in the glass, it leads with simple, direct aromas of fresh red fruit – cherries and cassis, mostly – and finishes with a very soft, round texture marked by refreshing acidity. It reminds me, as hinted at above, of a fruity, bistro-style Chinon crossed with the warmer scents of a clean, medium-bodied Côtes du Rhône. After a half-hour in the glass, its aromas reach a higher tone, giving scents of blueberry skin and violets. From there, the wine remains very consistent, practically unchanged in fact, into its second day, moving just ever so slightly into the tarter end of the red fruit spectrum.

If I've a complaint, it's that the wine seems overly polished, its edges removed to the point that its texture is slightly glossy. The lack of any overt winemaking signatures, however, lead me to think that this soft simplicity is most likely the product of young vine fruit, fruit that hasn't yet reached a deeper expression. I'll look forward to seeing where it leads in future vintages. And in the meanwhile – this is a reasonably good value at $15 or less per bottle – I'd hardly say no to "Alodio" as an added option in my ever developing rotation of no-nonsense, every day wines.

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