Weltman’s Wineing

All Bites Lead to Hummus

2010-04-11T20:02:00.000-07:00

Dining in Israel is mistakenly confined to the culinary staples of hummus, shawarma and falafel. Even though great expressions of these foods can be found, solely seeking them is the sure fire way to miss what resident Israeli’s are eating. I spent a recent outing in Tel Aviv with Janna Gur, author of The New Israeli Food and editor Al Hashulchan, the main Israeli food magazine. Finding the best hummus was easy, for I had an expert guide and resident Tel Avivian. However, we spent the day traversing the cities ports, flea markets, slums and chic neighborhoods for various culinary delights.

She says in the beginning of her cookbook, “Nobody comes to Israel for the food.” This is the friction that author Janna Gur presents to her readership as the first line of her cookbook. It undoubtedly makes them realize—“she’s right, but why?” Perhaps the tension in the modern state and relics of the ancient past consume a traveler’s stimulus and make food an afterthought. This sounds convincing enough, but after my many trips to Israel, I leave well fed and inspired by what I ate.
The culinary trinity—hummus, falafel and schwarma—are tasty treats, but act blinders to other local culinary delights. Doner kabobs in Paris and hotdog stands in New York City are cheap eats, but who would give up the affordable quality of steak frits in Parisian bistros or emerging gastro pubs in the Big Apple? Is it really sacrilegious to eat these gastronomic staples in the Holy Land? Of course not, but its diner beware. Solely seeking these treats is a sure fire way to miss out on what resident Tel Avivians are eating and glimpse into the hearts of Israeli foodies.
I met with Janna on a balmy Tel Avivian morning outside of the sporting complex where she practices yoga. With the temperature close 90 degrees Fahrenheit, we were ready to start our gastronomic tour of the White City. “Let’s start at the newly renovated Old Port,” Janna insisted, with a strong yet sincere Israeli manner. Only in Israel are the words old and new used in constant tandem—clarification is constantly necessary. Does old mean ancient? New—relatively speaking? In this case, the port was the first of its kind in the first Hebrew speaking city, Tel Aviv, and was constructed in 1935. Of course, this is before the country of Israel was demarcated in 1948. Today, the port is inactive for boating activities but stays afloat as a meeting place of commerce and culture.
The streets are filled with daring motorcyclists, buses that maneuver like sports cars, and driving is sure to awaken one senses. The conversation inside of cars usually sways towards sensory experiences too, as Israeli’s spare no moment to talk about their country. “You can not appreciate the city if you not seen it 10 or 15 years ago,” remarks Janna, as we weave through the white Bauhaus buildings. Tel Aviv boasts the heaviest concentration of this German style in the world, and their minimalist aesthetic anchors this bustling Middle Eastern Metropolis. Many of the remarkable white buildings are darkened by car emissions and require refurbishing. None-the-less, they are beautiful.
Enthralled with Janna’s monologue, I look-up barely in time to see a car heading directly for our front bumper. Realizing that she chose the wrong direction down a one way street, Janna comments with the care free nature of a young girl by saying, “We are note easily impressed with this stuff (rules), here in Tel Aviv.”
She proceeds to bully the car into letting us pass. Next, we park—illegally—and walk from the dilapidated parking lot to the seaside promenade. Here, a 14,000 square meter deck is filled with restaurants, coffee shops, and swanky night clubs. Its curvy shape was built to resemble the sand dunes that dominated the early landscape of Eretz Israel, and could just as easily mimic the crashing waves of the Mediterranean Sea.
Nearly avoiding a one women information center on a Segway, we arrive to a peaceful enclave under colorfully painted awnings—Tel Aviv’s Farmers Market. I spent the day prior in the chaos of the Carmel Market, and am shocked to witness the democracy of this gathering. The serenity is quickly shattered by an aerial surprise, as a low flying plane passes overhead and slightly startles me. “There is a small airport for military and private planes,” Janna explains.

Regaining composure, I glance at the sunlight bending through the seams of the overhangs, which showcases the fresh fruits and vegetables. Had I been transported to California? More like Slowfood found its way here through the efforts of Shir Halpern and Michal Ansky in May 2008. For over a year, organic produce, artisan cheeses, Dancing Camel microbrewer beer and tahini consume some of the 50 stands as their proud producers look on.

Janna runs into a local photographer who is teaching a class on food photography. The students have some venders arranging produce for the perfect shot, and Janna jokes, “That is rather annoying.” I agree with her stark comment and wander around to sample stranded halvah (sweet and dried sesame paste), and a pieces of juicy yellow watermelon. Shortly thereafter, we make our exit and return to the drag-racing-streets while heading towards the southern town of Jaffa. This port town is largely considered as the oldest in the world, and is not as refined as its northern neighbor.
On Jerusalem Boulevard, we pass through a place that Janna can only describe as a “slum.” However, pealing back the grime reveals a surprisingly rich gastronomic area. “There are many Greek delicatessens here. Jaffa, you know, has lots of Hungarian Jews.” Actually, she just taught me that morsel of culinary knowledge. “Further,” Janna persists, “there is a harmonious cuisine that developed between Arabic people and Hungarian, which are both based off of Turkish foods.”
Like an encyclopedia, Janna marks the passing buildings with little secrets. She temps me by highlighting hand stretched phyllo at Leon Bakery and perfect marzipans sold at a Turkish newspaper stand. I trust our passing of these sweet-shops is in good faith and something delicious is on the horizon.
In this spirit of this neighborhoods culinary anonymity, what could be more idiosyncratic than a stand which bears no name? The malabi stall on Dr. Erlich Street is called by any variety of those names and Janna swears it offers the best product in town. “There are many places to eat malabi,” she says while confidently shaking her head, “but there is something special—unique—about this one.”
Malabi is a simple Turkish custard based on milk with corn starch, and can be topped with thick fruit syrups and various crunchy sweets. Behind the counter is Sholomi, the baby faced vender whose grandfather was the ambassador of this recipe to Israel. He is embarrassed to know that I’ve seen his picture in Janna’s book. “It is always funny, to me, when people have seen my picture,” he says shyly. None-the-less, Sholmi happily obliges to pose next to a portrait of the mastermind himself.
Janna insists that we keep our malabis simple: custard with rosewater-kissed-raspberry-syrup floating on top. The base has a light jelly texture and is unsweetened. Thus, it fully relies on the fruit syrup to offer its flavorful qualities. It is mild, refreshing, and awakens my taste buds like a mild aperitif.

Our next stop at the Jaffa flea market has me thinking that we on course for yet another stop devoid of some serious eats. This market is a combination of street-side venders and permanent stalls where old and new weave the fabric of this gathering. There are beautiful middle eastern rugs, elaborate tea and coffee sets made out of gold plated metal, and ornate chandeliers carved out of black rod iron. The antiques are interspersed with disassembled computers, radios, Krups coffee makers and televisions. Men are dressed in white Arabic robes and smoke the ubiquitous hookah, or sheesha, which keeps the setting largely traditional. However, like most situations in Israel, a radically new setting can appear with a blink.
Janna insists we take a right off the main street to a wider and more serene avenue. Yochanan Street may be for cars but it looks more like a pedestrian walk way—it is wide, airy and offers a radically calmer vibe. First we pass Charcuterie (3 Rabbi Chanina St), a familiar word that sounds unrecognizable when Janna pronounces it. It is a long and narrow place with a sleek bar and a second floor with tables. True to its name, it serves cured meats and other small plates. This is clearly a trendy hang out for young Tel Avivians on dates or for drinks with friends.
Near by is a restaurant that instantly steals my heart—Puah (3 Rabbi Yohanan). It is down another quite boulevard in the flea market and the outside patio is outlined with green astro turf. The restaurant utilizes various odds and ends from the shuk and uses them to create the internal décor. The tables don’t match each other, chairs are never the same, and patrons will never eat off of the same plates—heck cups might not even match saucers. The aspect of the restaurant that speaks to its location is that everything is for sale. If you happen to find something without a price tag, inquire and bargain—this is Israel after all.
I feel this places bohemian vibe matches the pace of our day, and Janna and I choose a seat at the bar towards the back. The barn style doors to the kitchen never stop moving as hipster equivalent and young hippies make up Puah’s service team. Everything is laid back and Puah is an idea brunch spot with plenty of egg dishes, hardy Israeli salads and bourekas with a variety of fillings.
Coffee is our first choice and Janna passes on any food. I see a word that catches my eye, malawach, and decide that will be my culinary indulgence. Every culture has their staple bread, and this Yemenite flat bread is flaky from the folded layers of dough and butter, and then it’s fried.
“This is a typical breakfast for Yemenite Jews,” Janna tells me, which fits into the Israeli culture of hearty meals first thing in the morning. Accompanying the bread is a brown egg, fire-roasted-shredded-tomatoes, and zhug, a spicy condiment of chili peppers and cilantro. Each bite is crafted to my preference of the moment, and I create perfect malawach quarters until the fried disc is no longer. The eclectic nature of Puach paints an accurate picture of the young Israeli Jewish generation.
On our way out, one of the employees from Puah delivers two bags full of recycleable bottles to a beggar on the street. Given their familiar greeting, this seems like a ritual that they perform everyday. This beautiful exchange juxtaposes the stigma of total chaos in Israel and refines a sense of solace under the mid day sun.
Janna insists that we walk back to the car—which is parked in a run down area—through one street that is unmistakably cleaned up. “Here,” she declares, “is the next trendy spot of Tel Aviv.” Janna is certain and who am I to argue with the refurbished Bauhaus buildings flecked with a pinkish hue? She continues to tell me about the rebuilding efforts already taking place in Jaffa, and this tiny slice of the port is a picture of what’s to come.
Making its way over the Mediterranean, the sun reflects onto the city creating an ascending peacefulness. At this hour, Tel Aviv starts a unique transformation. It is Friday after all, and the city is getting ready for the Sabbath. We return to the car and embark on the final leg of our culinary tour.
I know Janna’s feelings about people that come to Israel and want to only eat falafel, schwarma, and humus. As someone who knows the ins and outs of Israel’s culinary scene, she maintains a firm stance on this issue. However, just as a New Yorker should know the best pizza in town, an Israeli better have a noteworthy place for these foods at their disposal.
After a day of peering past the typical culinary fare, it is time to refocus on the chickpea and Janna forges ahead towards the “local myth” of hummus. Abu Hassan is located in Old Jaffa and for the last 30 years, is known as making the best chickpea spreads. Not only do they make flavor hummus plates, but they also make its lesser known cousin, massabaha, which is served warm and is ever bit as flavorful.

The tiny restaurant is full which to Janna, comes as no surprise. Luckily, the line is a stump of what is usually is. “This is short,” Janna announces, “so we are very lucky.” I let my guide order at the street side walk-through-window, and she picks one plate of each dip. Also, Janna suggest we drink Maltstar, a non-alcoholic malted beverage. This, to some Israelis, is the ‘Coke’ drink of their childhood.
The normal protocol at Abu Hassan allows their customers to scour the neighborhood to devour their food—they don’t let the buildings size limit their sales. The agreement—unwritten but devotedly adhered to—is that all plates are to be returned to the restaurant. This is a fare trade to say the least. Thus, the surrounding streets are dotted with families, single diners, and even people in their cars eating Abu Hassan.
Janna and I collect our two plates, a plastic bag of warm pitas, container of spicy pickles and our beverages as we hunt the local area for a spot to dine. We happen upon a shaded staircase which is carved out of stone and cheated towards the glistening water. We quickly set up our urban picnic and without wasting time, take our first bites. I started with the familiar hummus and quickly realized how Abu Hassan rose to fame. The texture is perfect with the chickpea and olive oil’s flavor shining through. The pita is warm and is just as delicious.
Just when I think I have reached a high in dining pleasure, I sample the warm massabaha and realize what I have been missing. The elevated temperature and mash of chickpeas—as opposed to the cold and smooth puree of humus—creates a more robust burst of flavor and brings out the greedy diner in me. I simply want to take the plate, a fork, and eat it as quickly as possible. In between my pita dunks, I wash down the bites with the chilled malted drink. With simple food prepared this well, I am back to pondering the “why not” sentiment of visitors to Israel with regards to the “typical” dishes.

Our final stop is important and could properly be labeled as the cynics end. Here Janna and I are eating, and enjoying, mere pedestrian food to the chagrin of Israeli foodies. These people (Janna included) want to showcase the diverse culinary landscape of their country and break free from certain gastronomic handcuffs. Israel is in a constant state of renaissance as seen in the quantum leaps of technology and culture inn a mere 60 years of existence as a modern state. As a place that Janna properly describes as a “laboratory of freedom,” innovation and patriotic self expression are the way of life in Israel. Some view hummus, falafel, and schwarma as static reminders of the past—out of line with Israel’s progression. Make no mistake, these comestibles are here to stay, but it is important to look at other terrific eats while in Israel.

Classy College Cuisine

2010-01-02T18:57:00.000-08:00

Here is a video I made with a friend for Marist College. They wanted to show their students that it is possible to cook well and eat right while at school. My job was to introduce and pair wines with the dishes. I arrive on the scene around the 13 minute mark.

http://classycollegecuisin.blip.tv/file/2691656/

The Place to Be

2009-07-23T07:54:00.001-07:00

P1010287, originally uploaded by weltz8.

After spending a weekend with dear friends, I ventured to Terroir Natural Wine Merchant in San Francisco. Okay, so it was my second trip to this enclave in five days. The first go around was hectic, as there was a Spanish tasting going on. None-the-less, Degan helped out with selecting the biodynamic estate Huet, Le Mont, Vouvray, Loire Valley, 2006—a refreshingly mineral treat. If only he explained that I could have eaten my skate cheeks from Spencers on the Go while sipping some vino inside. Next time…?

After a few days I made my second go-around which was a relaxing few hours before boarding my flight back to New York. This time I dragged another great friend, Julia, who willingly succumbed to my visit request. There was no Spencers (I really wanted curried frog legs and riesling!), but we opened the door to a private playground. Terroir was empty except for Guillame behind the counter and an unidentified chick typing away on her computer.

The mere mention of a selection from the by-the-glass-chalk-board drew Guillame to grab a new glass and offer a sip. First, and for me most interestingly, was the Monastero Suore Cistercensi Vodemmia, Coenobium, Rusticum, Umbria, Italy, IGT, 2007. This is a blend of four organically grown grapes—verdicchio, trebbiano, malvasia, grechetto—and receives extended maceration and minor oxidation. The result is an orangeish color, Sherry-like perfume but a weightier palate with distinct ruby-red grapefruit. These nuns know how to vinify unique wine.

Next was the Domaine de Montrieux, “Le Verre des Poètes,” Coteaux du Vendômois, vin de table, Loire Valley, France, 2006. This petit appellation on the southern banks of the Loire River gained it’s demarcation in 2001. This ‘glass of the poets’ is made with pineau d’aunis, and is also known as chenin noir. This wine sang pinot noir cherry notes with a heavy dose of steamy green flavors. It was light to medium bodied with lively acidity and was distinct and fun to drink.

I ended up with another Domaine Huet and sat relishing the final moments of a memorable trip to San Francisco.

Concurso Nacional de Pinchos y Tapas

2009-06-13T11:36:00.001-07:00

R.D. : Recently Disgorged

2009-06-13T10:57:00.001-07:00

Puro, originally uploaded by weltz8.

For some, the anxiety of opening a sparkling wine in the dining room is unmatched. This is not an irrational fear given the injuries caused by UFCs, or Unidentified Flying Corks. Imagine the old caves of Champagne akin to a mine rigged battle field, were one weak bottle set off an explosive chain reaction from its 8 atmospheres of concealed pressure. It is no mistake that old time remurs wore masks and body protection—even today accidents happen. With many factors to already consider, Ales Kristanic of Slovenia’s Movia Estate decided to pass off a new responsibility to the consumer—keeping the wine clear. His wines Puro and Puro Rosè are shipped un-disgorged. That’s right, wine drinkers seeking a little more excitement with their bubbly have the duty of removing the dead yeast cells. The quirky Mr. Kristancic claims his design is such “…that now a monkey, the stupidest monkey in the world, can open it!” Who is this man from Slovenia anyways?

The Kristancic family has been making wine since the 1820’s, which translates to eight generations of understanding their land. Movia Estate is located in Slovenia, just across the Friuli boarder of Italy. However, its vineyards traverse the political separation and sit on both sides, known as the Collio in Italy and Brdra in Slovenia. Autonomous boundaries aside, it is terroir that drives the wines from Movia. Typicity from the land is governed by strict biodynamic practices. In the winery, the mentality is also adhered to with atypical—albeit tried and tested—methods for handling familiar grapes in the cellar. White wines are matured in 600 liter Slovenian oak casks and some in 225 liter barriques. They age on their lies which can last up to two years. Red wines are treated much the same and see extended aging in small Slovenian barrels. Racking? Not at Movia. Fining and filtering? The barometric pressure and phases of the moon dictate these practices. Sulfur…what do you think?

Out of all the wines Mr. Kristancic elaborates, both Puro’s honor the subtleties of his eclectic personality and devotion to true varietal character. The day before drinking, the bottle should be stored up-side down (it comes with a mini stand), to encourage the yeast towards the cork. Then, it is imperative to bring the sparkler to temperature on ice. The practice is particularly pertinent for the Puro because it not only slows the release of carbon bubbles, but it freezes the collected yeast into a disc. When ready, remove the cage from and hold the bottle’s neck underwater. Twist it much the same as if it were right side up, and monitor the surging pressure. When the force shoots off the cork, quickly turn the bottle right side up while removing it from the water.

The wine chosen for this tasting was the Movia, Puro Rosè, “un-disgorged,” Brdra, Slovenia, 2000, which is made from 100% pinot nero. Even after the aggressive opening method, the perlage was un-yielding with a plentiful array of tight bubbles. Although it is labeled as rosè, the juice was distinctly copper in color. Nothing was aromatically challenged about this cuvee and notes of apple cider and buckwheat honey sang from the glass. On the palate, it tingled with acidity while expressing purer red delicious apple flavors. Given the wines recent dégorgement, there was a clean yeast and sour dough bread component. Instead of a lingering finish, the Puro parked itself on the back of the palate.

I would highly recommend any wines from the Movia Estate, and the Puro is a steal at $50 dollars. It will leave you scratching your head with delight—and that is the idea. Welcome to the world of Ales Kristancic: hold on tight.

The Elements of Terroir

2009-03-16T07:35:00.001-07:00

Nicholas Joly and Peter Weltman (Me), originally uploaded by weltz8.

One look at Nicholas Joly’s business card and it is easy to see he is unlike any other vigneron in the world—who else has the job title Natures assistant. Given his devotion to biodynamic viticulture, it is understood why his self-imposed occupation is perfectly fitting. The specific details about biodynamics are found in Mr. Joly’s books, Wine from Sky to Earth, and Biodynamic Wine Demystified, in which he admits that he fell into this style of agriculture by accident. Make no mistake, he is committed to spreading his organic-meets-metaphysical methods by promoting vital life forces—Joly wants a drinker to feel the wine’s energy. The vintners who share his passion put their wines on display at the 5th Annual La renaissance des Appellations (Return to Terroir) tasting in New York City.

Joly’s famed estate is called Le Coulée de Serrant in Savenniéres, Maine-et-Loire, France. It sits on hallowed ground that was first planted by Cistercian Monks over 800 years ago. He was not always growing under the guiding biodynamic principles of the sun and stars but converted his entire estate to biodynamics by 1984. Previously, Joly used herbicides and pesticides to control his vineyards. However, his desire to change started after he noticed that nature began to vanish from his vineyards, leaving the soil dusty, dead, and the man yearning for what he lost.

At the conference, Virginie Joly, Nicholas’ daughter, was at the table pouring the three cuvées that they produce. True to style, the wines were not on ice, as Joly is a believer in serving his wines at around 14-15 degrees Celsius and if possible, decanted and left open for 12 to 24 hours. Let’s be reminded that we are talking about the chenin blanc grape. How could I know what to expect from the wines when Joly himself takes exactly what nature offers? The grapes are picked in a series of vineyard passes, as they only take the ripest bunches. This leads to different amounts of hang time, the potential of botrytis, and some raisining on the vine. Sometimes there is malolactic fermentation, other times not. He crafts wines with vintage character and is working towards creating not only “a good wine but also a true wine.”

The 2006 Coulée de Serrant, Savenniéres AOC, France, “Vieux Clos,” had an intensely spicy nose that followed through on the palate and tasted of mustard. There was also a distinct mineral presence that was carried by the highly acidic juice and rounded with a wild flower honey component. I found this wine to be coarse and obnoxious like an adorable screaming child— a descriptor that Joly himself would quite enjoy. Next was the 2005 Coulée de Serrant, Savienniéres Roche aux Moines AOC, France “Clos de la Bergerie” which traded the earth of the previous wine for riper fruit with a yeasty and sour apple cider flair, followed by an intense nuttiness on the back end of the palate. Joly credits this to harvesting later which causes the grapes’ forces to turn inwards and ultimately express the power of the seeds— welcome to the Joly school of thought. Finally, I sampled the coveted 2006 Savenniéres Coulée de Serrant AOC, Savenniéres, France “Clos de la Coulée de Serrant.” The wine had not been opened long but there were hints of white peach, oregano and heavy doses of crushed slate. The palate was firm and oily but quite clean as the acidic chenin blanc is so capable of. Light and aromatic acacia honey was omnipresent and there was refreshing spearmint as well. I would love to see this wine opened for multiple days and taste it through its extraordinary evolution.

There is so much to learn from Nicholas Joly and his crusade to bring wines back to the earth. I would, however, proceed with caution because biodynamics does not ultimately always taste better. The guiding principles are admirable but I found many wines showcasing an “empty terroir.” However, Joly’s fight is noble and he not only fully expresses his land, but he is able to humble wine to a deeper understanding of man’s place on this earth.

100 Yeras of Tel Aviv Event

2009-03-14T09:14:00.000-07:00

Grapes Under Fire

2009-02-25T21:48:00.001-08:00

P1010159, originally uploaded by weltz8.

One of the most unstable areas of the world is where the deepest historical roots of the grape vine can be found. The area called Cannan in the Bible covers many modern-day Middle Eastern Countries. Here exists the Bekaa Valley which is located in southern Lebanon just north of Beirut and is where Phoenician people planted vines over 6,000 years ago. Because they valued the wine with such esteem, the neighboring Egyptians wanted to honor this prized viticulture area and constructed the largest temple devoted to Bacchus.

The grand oenephile sanctuary is near the vineyards of Chateau Musar, which, at 3,000 feet above sea level, makes heavenly wine. The fabled elements of this ancient land cannot be ignored, but it is this producer’s place in the recent history that makes an inspirational mark. Gaston Hochar obtained the property in 1930 and started to seriously elaborate wines after the Second World War. Eventually, his Bordeaux-trained son, Serge Hochar, put his enology degree in practice to create “an aroma like the great wines of Lebanese history.” Upon his father’s early death, the winery was his to run at age 35.

A civil war erupted in 1975 and many civilians fled the war-torn area. Committed to producing his masterpiece, Hochar helped his family escape but insisted on staying himself. He braved mine rigged roads, army blockades and gunfire to complete his harvests—sometimes under the brilliant light of bombs in the night sky. Similar conditions persisted in the early 1990’s, but Chateau Musar could not be deterred.

What Serge Hochar’s years of perseverance yielded was a gutsy cuvée of mostly cabernet sauvignon, cinsault and carignan, with mourvèdre and Grenache occasionally thrown in as well. Hochar believes that his wines need time; they go from concrete to vat, then spend a year in French oak, all before going back to vat for several years. I tasted the Chateau Musar, Bekaa Valley, Lebanon, 1998. This vintage had a unique brick-red color with a flirty tinge of pink. The nose, however, was like a day on the farm eating stewed wild strawberries and rhubarb in the horse barn— get the whiff? There was also a distinct oxidasic quality that may scare away as many people as it attract. The palate offered more of the same notes with touches of warm spice. This was definitely a special wine given its terroir and extended ageing, I look for the 1998 to continue improving.

Although the bottles sat patiently underground in wine-cellars-turned-bomb-shelters during the Lebanese wars, they are true fighters and embody the spirit of the Hocar family. I suggest that all wine drinkers look to the chaos of the Middle East to find solace in Chateau Musar.

Bursting the Bubble

2009-02-03T18:07:00.001-08:00

P1010122, originally uploaded by weltz8.

The name Champagne is so synonymous with sparkling wines that drinkers often mislabel every other bubbly with this title. Brilliant marketing has brought the region to prominence and it certainly has a noteworthy history. Dom Perignon, the Benedictine Monk and cellar master at Abbey of Hautvillers, has often been credited with creating the fizz, but a look across the English Channel may be in order. Recent findings suggest that in 1662, British Scientist Christopher Merrett invented Methodé Champenoise for his hard ciders - thirty years before Perignon. Equally as crucial, Merrett is credited with strengthening the bottle to withstand the atmospheric pressure created from carbon dioxide.

So what if Champagne borrowed the bottling method from the British? It is still the first sparkling wine in France, right? Not quite. The Languedoc region in southern France boasts an older demarcated area of pétillant wine. In 1531 at Abbey Saint-Hilaire, Benedictine Monks utilized cork stoppers from the nearby Catalan forests to plug their bottles - thus producing bubbles. The trick to achieving a highly acidic base wine was in the Mauzac grape, an old varietal known for its apple peal flavors.

Paying homage to this history, I chose the Domain de Martinolles, Blanquette de Limoux AOC, “Le Berceau,” Methode Traditionnelle, NV. Although there are other AOC sparkling wines in the region, this specific appellation requires 90% Mauzac with the remainder comprising of Chardonnay and Chenin Blanc. Few would confuse its nose with Champagne for it lacks obvious yeast and buttery notes; instead, it gives way to hints of green apples and dandelion flowers. On the palate, Mauzac sings some earthy Cava tunes and, despite its firmness, the high almost-cider-like acidity drives this absolutely dry wine. The mid-palate transition is almost absent and there is a touch of heat at the end.

History does not necessarily breed elegance and so is the case for the rustic Blanquette de Limoux. It does not try to fit into the slim dress and high heels of Champagne but instead can use its coarseness to make an impression at a party. A retail price of $14.99 per bottle is a little high and I would have preferred to pay in the $10-12 range. Although I am not ready to trade in my Champagne, it is worth honoring history and having this great aperitif wine in your tasting arsenal.

Nervous to the Cour

2009-01-04T13:00:00.001-08:00

P1010111, originally uploaded by weltz8.

Nervoux: Lively, firm, vigorous and is France’s best kept term for describing striking acidity in wine—literally nervous. Romorantin is an ancient grape varietal that is found in the obscure appellation of Cour-Cheverny in the Loire Valley and deserves such a descriptor. This grape fell into favor during the 16th Century with King Louis I after he brought the vines back from Burgundy. The area was demarcated in 1993 after A.O.C. Cheverny (1991), which was named for the local commune just south of Blois, Loir-et-Cher. Cour-Cheverny wines are from the same area and instead of being a required blend, are made primarily from romorantin.

My tasting consisted of the Francois Cervin, Le Petit Chambord, Cour-Cheverny, Loire Valley, France, 2007, made exclusively from the ancient varietal. Just when the wine slid off my tongue, it remerged with, crude, cheek-quenching sour apples, minerals and a touch of nuttiness. Think of the cold New York winters when the air is stale from sheer chill and an oncoming car passes along. Just after the slight relief, cold air follows the pull of the car and plasters your face. Now that’s the nervoux of romorantin. The 2007 was slightly one dimensional and can be attributed to the tough vintage. I would look for a riper year, like 2002, to find a wine with more character.

Do not be fooled with this one personality because like chenin blanc, romorantin is another chameleon grape of the Loire. On a great year, the grape can produce a demi-sec expression and offer layers of honey and apricot that ride the strong and acidic backbone of the wine. Look for the Francois Cervin, Le Petit Chambord, Cour-Cheverny, Loire Valley, France, “Renaissance Cuvee,” 2002 and remember that second impressions have their benefits.

Van Gogh and Biodynamics

2008-12-06T13:59:00.001-08:00

IMG_5489, originally uploaded by weltz8.

I was on a mission in New York City to see Van Gogh and the Colors of the Night exhibit at the MoMA. Nothing was going to stop my progress, so when they informed me of no available tickets, I bought a membership and proudly marched through. Some of his pieces had been on display at the Detroit Institute of Art and I was captivated by what I saw. His brush strokes were hard and deliberate, and color was used very aggressively. I eagerly anticipated more of the same.

While analyzing the pictures in front of me, I learned to take off my glasses and give an honest stare. This melded the aggression on the canvas to a smoother appearance—it acted like an entirely new painting. The literature on the walls were also integral to the exhibit, describing how changing perception of color and light affected Van Gogh’s style.

As I arrived at the famed Night, my attention was drawn to the circular brush strokes in the sky—as if it was resisting a pulling force by curling up. I thought back to the entrance of the exhibit were there existed a quote by Van Gogh and was meant to set the tone for the show. It stated, “I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.” When the statement floated through my mind and I became aware of the great Cyprus trees etched in the scene and connected art and biodynamics. Cyprus trees have an affinity to heat as seen in their linear manner. I saw their power expressed in the picture by the pulling light (heat) from the darkest of skies. Van Gogh possibly understood the power of Cyprus’ and used them to extract more bright qualities in this night time scene.

This resonated with a quote by biodynamic vintner Nicholas Joly who spoke about the twisting motion of vines. He instructed, “Like any creeping plant, it is dominated by a spiral action, turning around an axis…Its role is to bring man back down to earth. In spite of its cosmic origins, the vine is a prisoner…” (23). Vincent used the trees to demonstrate power as they tried to bring the spiraling sky down to earth. He painted the struggle between earth and sky, citing the universes unattainability and desire to hold onto it’s precious elements.

Does this mean that Vincent Van Gogh understood the biodynamic philosophies? Probably not given their entrance to existence happened after the turn of the 20th Century by German philosopher Rudolf Steiner. I do, however, think that Van Gogh understood cosmic relationships. In my perspective, he included these principals in Night with the same deliberate intentions as his masterful brushstrokes.

Behind Door Number One

2008-11-15T07:59:00.001-08:00

IMG_5899, originally uploaded by weltz8.

Although I appear to be a giant, it is indeed a small door. What lies behind it is a major name in the wine region of Chablis. First imported by Kermit Lynch, Francois Raveneau makes top of the line, unadulterated wine. He uses traditional techniques which negates filtering, a major reason he was nervous for shipping it to the United States. When Mr. Lynch agreed to handle the bottles with care and never mention if ANY produced faults because of the long journey, Mr. Raveneau agreed.

Why this memory struck so heavy over the last few days involved a dinner that I catered in New York City (see blog High Above Reality). There was an all-star lineup of wines headlined by the six Cheteau Mouton Rothschild, Paullac, 1990, and the six Tokaji Aszu, 5 Puttonyos, Chateau Pajzos, 1990. As those two stood out to me in name, the wine that I remember so vividly were two magnums Chablis 1er Cru Montee de Tonnerre, 1999. At the time I wrote of acidity that I had never experienced, some herbaceous characteristics, and a minerality that defined the wine. I also recall how the wine had this full, almost oily character, maybe a touch of banana; but never dropped its refreshing qualities. This was simply a stunning glass.

I happened to find the menu of that dinner amongst my scrapbook and looked closely--who else was the winemaker but the Francois Raveneau. Realizing the connection was a welcomed mental revisit which brought together two memorable wine experiences.

IMG_5898, originally uploaded by weltz8.

A Michigan Awakening

2008-11-10T16:45:00.001-08:00

IMG_6472, originally uploaded by weltz8.

The falls of my childhood played out beautifully during a three week trip back home. There was a slight deviation from my normal culinary haunts when a friend and former teacher spoke about his Michigan Apple Hard Cider fortified with Apple Blossom Honey! (It rang in at a huge 14% Abv). I had to visit the local Franklin Cider Mill to enjoy the seventy degree weather, autum colors, and of course, cider.

IMG_6467, originally uploaded by weltz8.

128 Years of Zin

2008-11-04T14:45:00.001-08:00

IMG_4787, originally uploaded by weltz8.

As I stood in a special vineyard in Sonoma Valley, California, I stared at viticulture monuments. Gnarly vines sprung from the earth and were displaying brilliant fall colors of red, orange and yellow. This was the Pagani Vineyard, a historic planting of Zinfandel vines interspersed with some Petit Syrah and Alicante Bouchet—many of which were over a century old. I was lead here by Chris Silva, President and CEO of St. Francis Winery. They now own the land. Mr. Silva, whom is usually a joking man, appeared to find solace in this beautiful setting next to the famous Pagani farm house.
So much is made about wines that stand the test of time, and yes, it is incredible to have a twenty-five year old bottle that is worth drinking. But what about the longevity of vines? These told a story about Louis Pagani and his family that planted them in the late 19th Century. They continue to surpass the 98 year lifespan of Mr. Pagani, the humble yet proud farmer. His dedication is why the vineyard still exists, as he never gave up on these modest parcels even when they were unfashionable.
Although Louis Pagani has passed, he lives on through the St. Francis Winery and its Pagani Ranch Old Vine Zinfandel. It is made under the watchful eye of winemaker Tom Mackey, a long time buyer of this exceptional cuvee. The wine is spicy and marries well with the American oak (60% New, 40% second year barrels). The nose smells of blueberries and leather and follows through on the palate with a sun kissed smoothness. Taste the history.

Shot Down in Restaurants?

2008-10-25T09:46:00.000-07:00

No Pictures, Please?

Q. In the world of cameras, ranging from cell phones to point-and-shoots, they are no stranger to the modern dining room. I am known to snap photos of my food or the decor or the restaurant but try to keep it as incognito as possible (i.e., no flash). On certain celebratory occasions, I have participated in the after-meal-group-shot courtesy of the waiter, which I can only assume annoys other restaurant patrons. What is your opinion about cameras in the dining room? Have you seen it abused? Also, how do you feel about the restaurants that forbid such actions?

— Peter Weltman

Frank Bruni of The New York Times gave the green light for readers to ask him anything about the job of a restaurant critic. After reading some of the dialogue between Mr. Bruni and faithful patrons, I thought about a prevalent issue in the modern dining room...cameras. I am a fanatic when it comes to snapping pictures of dishes, from corner delis to fine dining. I am, however, intent on being as discrete as possible. There is always the occasional group photo on very special occasions (I think restaurants need to include "Photography 101" for incoming servers), and amidst my hardest efforts, I know others around me find it over the top.

Aside from this angle, I was curious about restaurants that forbid photography, sometimes citing intellectual property. This happened to me at Boulettes Larder in San Francisco when the cashier told me to put my camera away. Quoting my friend Julia, a former employee, she told me the owners are very proud of their work and do not want pictures of it floating around. Was I offended? Not at all simply because it they held strong to their convictions. Was I sad to miss out on beautiful food photography? You bet.

Read up; my question is the last one on this page (13) and continues to the next page (14).

-->>> http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/20/business/media/20askthetimes.html?pagewanted=13&_r=1&ref=dining

(You need to copy and paste this into the web browser)

Spontaneity in Chablis

2008-10-20T10:22:00.001-07:00

IMG_5892, originally uploaded by weltz8.

I was driving down from the scenic out look of the Chablis Grand Cru vineyards, trying my hand at driving the manual van for the first time. It was reminiscent of my days in Honduras, taking guests down from the high elevations of the coffee fields, grinding it out in second gear. The car suddenly stopped, and my driving mates thought I let the clutch out too early. Instead I shouted, “they’re picking!” I was thrilled to see the job being carried out by hand, as many use machines for the job in Chablis.

To the left of the van was a crew snapping off the grapes in Les Blanchots, one of the hillside Grand Cru sites. “I must go out!” I announced as I threw down the parking break and exited with my camera. As I started snapping away, an older man with a cigar in his mouth gave me thumbs up. Feeding off of his playful nature, I approached the vines. He offered me a bunch—freshly picked Chardonnay. What a treat! His jovial nature continued and he hugged the lady next to him for a photo session albeit slightly against her will.

IMG_5889, originally uploaded by weltz8.

All of the excitement caught the attention of Francios Servin, who turned out to be the owner of this plot. Upon later research, his family has been producing Chablis for seven generations since 1654 at Domaine Servin. After a quick political discussion and a fist pumping cheer for OBAMA!, I was reinvigorated with a worthwhile stop in the hills of Chablis.

IMG_5893, originally uploaded by weltz8.

A Royal Meeting

2008-10-10T12:01:00.001-07:00

For now, enjoy the dramatic views of the majestic Barolo and Barberesco vineyards.

(Barolo)

IMG_5240, originally uploaded by weltz8.

(Barberesco)

IMG_5277, originally uploaded by weltz8.

(Royal Tasting)

IMG_5287, originally uploaded by weltz8.

Man Like Wine

2008-10-06T16:37:00.001-07:00

IMG_5129, originally uploaded by weltz8.

The day spent with Roberto Paghin was like a philharmonic symphony where the audience decided to lighten up with one too many drinks at intermission. There was class mixed with delinquent pleasure. When we first were introduced to our conductor for the day, Mr. Pighin, he admitted to being tired after a night of celebrating an Italian Sommelier Competition he and other noteworthy wineries were judging. I was on a similar level from a night out in the city of Udine and appreciated the slow start. There was a fair celebrating the Friuli DOC, but at times I thought Bavaria was my location given the distinct Germanic character to this area.

I was finally going to live out the fruit of my studious labour and see the wine land of Italy. What intrigued me the most was the little visual knowledge I had of Friuli—it was sure to impress. Trying to follow Roberto Pighin in the car was nothing short of race car driving, as he expected us to manoeuvre our nine passenger van like his Audi wagon. All the same we entered the Friuli Grave DOC to the main winery. “It’s not glamorous and it’s not the side most people like to see of our operation.” As a budding professional, I respected the sincerity of that comment.

I was struck by the cubist design. There were orange tanks and circular windows in the winery and no time was wasted to start tasting. “I want you to taste from the tank then try from the bottle so you can see the evolution.” The area is named for the gravel in the soil, and because we were in the Grave, those were the wines we tasted. The 2007 Sauvignon (they omit the Blanc) was racy and showed promising spice and green pepper. My kind of wine! The 2008 Sauvignon from tank was of a particularly high quality to Mr. Pighin and showed early signs of white pepper and an anxious, slumbering green giant.

The greatest impact came from sampling the 2007 Pinot Grigio. Upon first whiff, the voice of Steven Kolpan (my first wine instructor) spoke and mentioned the lanolin aspect found in Pinot Grigios. It was present along with notes of melon and green peach. What brought the true sentiment was the wool sweater fragrance that had been lingering all morning. I kept thinking back to the smell of my father’s closet which was so full of suits and sweaters of the same material. In this present moment, Mr. Pighin shared this similar aroma with his wine. Smell holds the strongest link to the past, and it was another connection linking me to the moment. The wine also broke the water and lemon stereotypes of this varietal.

The special day continued to lunch at the local restaurant. Pighin has style and the setting was elegant. The table was draped with a laced table cloth and was set with many wine glasses, floating pink flowers and a brass tub filled with ice and wine. Needless to say we drank and laughed our way through a tasty lunch, fuelled by Roberto’s elegance and quirky nature. The culinary highlights included flavourful porcini mushrooms wrapped in a local smoked prosciutto, a creamy polenta with chewy black trumpet mushrooms, and a glass of 2007 Picolit dessert wine from the Pighin estate.

Up on the hills of the Collio DOC, the breezes from the Adriatic ruffled the vineyards as I walked through the vines. I picked up the earth that broke apart into distinct layers and surveyed the unique terroir—one of the best in Italy Mr. Pighin assured me. We tasted, from the tank, the new vintages of Sauvignon and Pinto Grigio which had more body than their counterparts from Friuili Grave.

A story can only be made if somebody decides to continue its legacy, and Robert Pighin loves the history of his wine. Further, sharing his life and his winery is as big of a passion for the simple fact that he understands how, “there is a big story behind each bottle…and by tasting, we can speak a personal philosophy with a knowledgeable voice.” I plan to keep this day alive by continuing the story of my visit.

IMG_5126, originally uploaded by weltz8.

Mexican Food and Syrah

2008-09-26T08:44:00.001-07:00

IMG_4881, originally uploaded by weltz8.

It sounded like an unlikely pairing, but nothing about Benziger was ordinary. Instead of a fancy lunch, we ate in the original house on the estate during the staff meal. I waited in line and built my burrito in the country farm kitchen—fresh tortilla, chicken, rice, beans, and a heavy hand of cilantro. After the first bite, I lifted the wine and took a sip of the Syrah—the juiciness met with the creamy beans and guacamole, while the mild peppery spice welcomed the onions and herbs. As I sat swirling in revelation, Kathy Benziger was beside me simply mixing her Mexican salad and going about her business. This paring, amidst my doubt, was inevitably going to work out as many things do in the special land of Benziger Winery.

The 'volcanic bowl' is located outside the small town of Glenn Ellen, California, and is home to this wine estate. When the existing volcano collapsed, it created a secluded valley and now it is a magical eco system that happens to produce inspired biodynamic wine. “Keep your senses alive,” were the words that danced off of Kathy’s tongue as she started the electric cart. The entire property is Demeter Certified which proves their biodynamic practices. It is the highest and hardest to achieve.

In 85 acres of prime grape growing area, only 45 were planted with grapes. Why? For the sake of biodiversity. Where would the sheep graze when they are not eating the weeds between the vines? How could they have an insectarium to promote helpful insects? Where would the new green house go? This may sound idyllic and perhaps it is, but it takes energy and persistence to pull it off—a lot more money than conventional farming too. “We want to become completely self-sustaining here,” Kathy stated with her girlish grin. Modern farming is very hands off and try’s to manipulate the land to the man. Bio-D is hands on and requires a courtship with the earth, taking her punches one minute then embracing her the very next.

During the brief moment that I met Mike Benziger, Kathy’s brother and founder of the winery, he referred to the vines as resting after a few days of sun and wind. “This cold spell is good for them, they needed a vacation.” He too speaks with the Benziger charm, but Mike adds some intensity fueled by his eyes that penetrate the soul. There is an obvious spiritual presence about him, as if he was channeling the words from the grapes. Given that he lives amongst the vines in a house that over looks the back bowl vineyards, I find my assessment to have validity.

Benziger does source grapes from outside of the property, but their influence caused the growers to change their ways. All of the grapes brought in are at least organic and/or utilize sustainable practices. However, there is one wine called 2005 Tribute, Sonoma Mt. Sonoma, which bottles only the biodynamic Cabernet Sauvignon fruit from the estate. As the name implies, it encapsulates the practice of bio-dynamics in the bottle to be expressed in the purest form. I found the wine to be inky black/purple with an earthy nose. The palate yielded a precise structure that allowed the coffee, chocolate and dark cherry flavors to slide off my tongue. In this wine and in the many others I tried, there was sharpness to the flavors that seemed to surf off the palate in a laid back manner.

Wine people are passionate, that much is for sure, and get to know their wines like family. Benziger is no different, but the added elements of inviting nature into the mix elevates their relationship. Kathy's parting words were, “the biggest impression is a footprint in the vineyard.” Her family knows no other way and definitely left an impression on me.

(Kathy and me at Benziger)

Bubbling with Questions

2008-09-21T08:01:00.003-07:00

Domaine Carneros tasting, originally uploaded by weltz8.

While sipping on the finally fermented Chardonnay wine at Domain Carneros, I became a bit talkative and proposed a curious question—does TCA (cork taint) affect sparkling wine or are there properties that keep it out? I thought of this question earlier this year, thinking that the air pressure and the antibacterial properties of dissolved carbon could defend the wine against the culprit. Even though Harold Mcgee had no answer for me, I trusted this question with Eileen Crane, head winemaker and CEO. With over 15 harvests of sparkling wine to her name and the original winemaker at Domain Carneros, she could finally provide some useful insight.

With a quick strike, Mrs. Crane answered, “No, TCA exists, but people have a hard time detecting it in sparkling wine." She further explained the extensive testing that is done to the cork shipments that included soaking them in a water and wine solution. How could I argue her expertise? I still have more research to do on the properties of dissolved carbon, but that is for another day.

The crown jewel of the afternoon came when we were led into the laboratory for a quasi-vertical tasting. We entered a white room and each seat was fitted with six flute glasses—a sexy site. Also on the table were six bottles whose only identifying marks were hand written labels. These bottles came right from the cellar and had not even been disgorged. What a treat!

As the tasting progressed, Elaine set the tone with a serious demeanour. I tried to follow suit but could not help the occasional sounds of satisfaction. The oldest of the lot, a Brut ’87, was golden in color and had an intoxicating honey aroma. The ’88, only one year difference, had a seductinve wildflower honey in the nose and less of the nutty flavours on the palate. The Brut ’94 caught me off guard and I went back for another quick whiff—salmon with a strong sourdough character, could it be? “It is just how it evolved in the bottle,” Eileen assured, “and I particularly like it.” Me too.

Nearing the end of the tasting, Mrs. Crane wanted ot make sure we walked away appreciating sparkling wines from yesterday and today. In her serious sentiment and lined with a playful tone, Eileen instructed “hey, you may like your friends old and young. The same goes for a well made sparkling wine. It changes with age but can still be appreciated.” Longevity is the key, and as long as Eileen Crane is making Domaine Carneros sparkling wine, I plan to drink it.

Young Mind, Young Wine

2008-09-19T17:21:00.001-07:00

IMG_4571, originally uploaded by weltz8.

My time at Sequoia Grove Winery seemed to have this theme, ranging from the grapes to the President Mike Trujillo, to meeting the President's daughter, Sofia. Molly, the friendly winemaker, took the group into the vineyard for a lesson in ampelography. She instructed for us to view the middle leaves that were located a couple sinuses up from the spur to find the best varietal examples. After examining the sinus, teeth, front and back texture, and overall shapes, I gained a greater appreciation for the distinct differences they carry.

Further along, Molly had us test our hands at running a sample of grapes. My team plucked random Malbec grapes from their vines and placed them in a plastic bag. Back in the lab, we crushed the grapes into juice and placed the beakers side by side. I was amazed at the differences of colors that lay before me—the Malbec showing a muddy green hue compared to the brighter pink of the Merlot. Interestingly, green is acceptable for Malbec juice where it is a red flag in other grapes. These subtle facts and flavor markers are now part of my repertoire as a knowledgeable taster of wine.

Not only was learning about young wine (grape juice) a refreshing insight to the day, but so was meeting Sofia, the daughter of the head wine maker Mike, who has been dubbed the President of the President. She was quite shy at first, but Mike opened her up when he allowed her to taste (and spit of course) with us. Her ability to recite the five Bordeaux varietals and have an understanding of wine was a product of growing up in the business, but it was her father’s philosophy of introducing her to the beverage that was noteworthy. It was his belief that by appreciating wine at a young age, it will deter her from the problems associated with alcohol later on.

Either way, her young spirit brightened my day and a needed relief of tag after lunch. She made me look past the finished product and appreciate the raw materials that go into each bottle, paralleling their unfiltered vibrancy and potential for greatness with the right care and love.

President of the President, originally uploaded by weltz8.

Officially en Route

2008-09-16T08:57:00.001-07:00

Kermit Lynch and Peter, originally uploaded by weltz8.

It was an early start to the day and I was on the road to San Francisco. I had a meeting to attend, and wanted some Ferry Building comfort food before I made my way to Berkeley, California. Armed with an Out the Door steam-bunned breakfast, I boarded the BART to fulfill my quest.

With a mixed up mind and running high on emotions (running late as well), I headed down Ohlone bike trail towards my destination. Finally I saw the sign that represented wine inspiration—Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant. With no time to spare I weaved through the very bottles I had read about and arrived at the front desk.

“Mr. Lynch,” I stated slightly unsure, this coming from the guy whom met Thomas Keller at The French Laundry and did not know it was him. When the man’s head perked up I continued, “I’m Peter Weltman and it is wonderful to meet you.”

We joked about my wrong turns in the suburbs of Berkley and made our way to the back office. There was a vibrant picture of heirloom tomatoes and bookshelves organized in a comforting manner. I looked around and saw a meticulous elegance to the scene, expecting nothing less from my wine hero.

It is one thing to have a great story, but it is another when the man lives up to the myth, which Mr. Kermit Lynch certainly did. He listened with interest and we engaged in a conversation that will forever lay the groundwork to the career path that I have chosen.

I now can travel with Mr. Kermit Lynch’s blessings and invitations to see the wineries that he represents with KLWM—a very important seal because he personally invests so much into the wines. I will travel as a proud ambassador to these properties and am excited to be a part of this legacy.

Harvesting Grapes, Cultivating My Life

2008-09-14T17:50:00.001-07:00

Cakebread Family, originally uploaded by weltz8.

The cloudy skies and cool temperatures on Tomales Bay in Marshall, California, transferred me back to the lands of England. As a light rain tickled my face, I listened to the founder of Hog Island Oyster talk about his wonderful product. Standing in a line, four of the 2008 American Harvest Workshop participants now sported Hog Island sweatshirts, the bi-product of not dressing appropriately for this excursion. After Chef Rick Moonen coined the new term ‘maroire’ for describing an aquatic sense of place, Hog Island’s founder had this to say about his farmed product—“The wind, smell of salt and eating food so close to the source makes for a full palate.” I stood amongst food lovers at every level and the sweet smell of the ocean simply reaffirmed his statement…

I eventually likened the 2008 American Harvest Workshop at Cakebread Cellars to being a summer camp in the Disney World for adults—The Napa Valley. The Cakebread family combined the likes of seven industry leading chefs, six culinary students, and fresh food from local purveyors to set the ethos for these special three days.

“We started this program 22 years ago” boasted Bruce Cakebread, “as a platform to promote chefs before the fame involved in the profession.” What they promoted was a collaborative effort amongst the Chefs from varying backgrounds to come together and cook for people who love food. I was involved in every capacity as I prepped food for Indian chef Sujan Mukherjee of Taj Bengal, Kolkata, or listened to the wise words of Chef James Boyce of Montage Resort, Laguna Beach, California, in his Owen Wilson manner. In these few days, the kitchen was not too small for all of these successful Chefs, whom were all eager to work together, joke around, and cook some food.

When I was not cooking, I was in the winery helping with harvest preparations for the second time in my life. I evenly raked the Pinot Noir grapes so they fell into the de-steamer crusher in a smooth manner, occasionally pulling off some berries to sample. Again I found myself perched high above the crush pad, a familiar location of harvests before while placing my mark on this vintage.

The experience was set in the spirit of crush, but manifested into something greater. The Professor of Wines Studies at The Culinary Institute of America, Michael Weiss, found the right words when he told me, “The Cakebread’s are a family that gets it. They have seen the importance of food and wine together from the beginning.” As we rose our glasses in celebration, I froze this moment to make sure I, too, will always get it.

Picture: The Cakebread Family and the Kopf Scholars.

Like Tapas?

2008-09-12T14:18:00.000-07:00

This is a promotional video I made in Valladolid, Spain, on behalf of La Fundacion de la Lengua Espanola. It is for the Concurso Nacional de Pinchos y Tapas. Watch!

href="http://www.fundacionlengua.es/files_en/actividades/spanish_gastronomy/inicio.html">

I can't make this a clickable link but please view it!

Summertime and the Livin's Riesling

2008-09-10T03:02:00.000-07:00

This is from NYC...

In fact, at Terroir in the East Village, that happens to be your best option. This wine bar was down right eclectic ranging from the high-school-esqe-three-ring-binder-menus to the Che Guevara inspired t-shirts featuring wine icons (J.J. Prum has a mug shot—are you getting the theme?) Make no mistake, this was a wine geek’s paradise. Although the population was low at 1:45 a.m., everybody sipped while talking about that very topic.

The bar tender was a spunky chick with tattoos and was sporting red Bartolo Mascarello t-shirt. To start, she poured four tastings of Rieslings. What variety! The two Mosel-Saar-Ruwer were different animals. The first had the typical petrol nose which was full of fruit, but the finish fell off and tasted apple cidery. For what it lacked in fruit, the second glass had a mineral nose which gave way to a deceptively luscious body full of tropical fruits. In contrast to these off-dry wines was the Alsatian Riesling that was slightly brown in color and bone dry. It was not floral at all and was a little hot given the higher alcohol content—so is the consequence of fermenting out the sugar. I saw potential in this wine as being very food friendly. Finally, the wine that I chose to have a glass of was the Riesling from Wachau, Austria. This exhibited the best balance and was a wine that I wanted to sip.

The night was still young and the bar tender set up a challenge—red blind tastings. I was presented with an aggressive wine that smelled of cola, dirt and cinnamon. Shiraz, my drinking companion, received a glass that smelled of black cherries, funk and some slight vanilla. If I felt thrown off by the nose from the beginning, the taste gave me fewer clues as I found myself drinking a bold and tannic wine that was low in acidity. The other glass yielded a juicy wine, somewhat reminiscent of jolly ranchers. My wine will forever change how I view Morgon. This was the first heavy Beaujolais that I have tried, and now find it harder than ever to pin-point a typical wine to the region. The other wine was a disappointment not to guess because it was a Bierzo and I was in the D.O. two months prior. The new oak was flirtatious at best and the funkiness sent my brain to the Old World.

After the exhilaration of the blind tasting, I settled in to what turned out to be my favorite wine of the night—a Sancerre Rouge, Le Grand Fricambault, A. Neveu, 2000, Lire Valley. The tawny color showcased its age beautifully, and I was thrilled with the expression of this grape. Earthy and alive, I now have a wine that I could get used to. Buyer beware, this wine is ready to drink NOW.

With Riesling tattooed across my arm, I left bar Terroir as a more enlightened drinker than when I entered and highly anticipated my return.

Misty Mornings

2008-09-06T20:40:00.002-07:00

The day was young and I decided to stroll down the main street in Solvang, California. To my surprise, there was a fine fog that settled in which made for a chilly morning. Later that day under the tasting guidance of Susan Pratt, I learned how that fog is the saving grace for Santa Ynez as it follows the river bead form the ocean and cools the valley. When that is coupled with Foley Vineyards higher altitude and closer proximity to the ocean, it tends to be 10 degrees cooler than the placement of Lincort’s vines. I warmed up with a coffee and Danish (how could I resist?), and the group was on our way.

We drove fifteen minutes inland from our little Danish town to Lincort Vineyards—named for owner Bill Foley’s two daughters Linda and Courtney. Mr. Foley’s portfolio now includes Foley, Lincort, Firestone and a few others outside of Santa Ynez. “He happens to be a huge Burgundy fan”, explained Sue, “which is why he favors their varietals of Pinot Noir and Chardonnay.”

I would argue that the comparison stops there, for we drank wines that had California written all over them. Both Lincort and Foley had an oaked Chardonnay from 2006 that were over 14% alcohol. The Lincort Chardonnay had less oak and finished with a toffy smoothness, but I could not get into these wines. Although Foley also made a un-oaked expression of Chardonnay called Steel, it lacked the clean qualities that I adore from a Chablis and came through with ripe tropical fruit.

The 2006 Foley Pinto Noir Rancho Santa Rosa in Santa Ynez was also over 14% abv (see a trend?), and had a powerful nose but had less concentration on the palate. I found the alcohol at 14.3% to be somewhat in check. My favorite wine of the tasting was the 2006 Foley Syrah Rancho Santa Rosa which smelled like grilled meat.

As the day was winding down, I walked the Pinot Noir vineyards of the Foley Estate and I felt the Pacific Winds glide past me and cool the ambient air. I reached out and pulled a grape and tasted the familiar flavor that had eluded me for two years. I looked up and saw the patchwork of vines scatter the gentle hills behind me. I felt home again.

Sun Soaked and Central Ca.

2008-09-06T20:40:00.001-07:00

IMG_4247, originally uploaded by weltz8.

The six hour flight from New York to Los Angeles consisted of deep sleep on the verge of meditative submission and a friendly conversations with Gino—the Italian from New Jersey on his way to Los Angeles to marry his lady in Vegas. And so it is, life on the road. One puddle jumper later and Welcome to Santa Barbera.

Driving into our little town of Solvang, founded in 1911 as a Danish-American colony and located in the Santa Ynez, we spotted The Hitching Post II. For all of the wine people that now hate Merlot, this is the restaurant form the movie Sideways where it all began.

Given it’s proximity and relative fame, our group dinned in this road house that cooked everything on an oak grill. Our food portfolio consisted of grilled artichoke, filet mignon, to the mammoth Ahi steak that I decided to eat. And yeah, we drank a Pinot Noir.

IMG_4271, originally uploaded by weltz8.

The First Sips

2008-09-03T15:01:00.001-07:00

IMG_4225, originally uploaded by weltz8.

Don’t read to far into the religious aspects of this, but find the important message. Rudy Kopf instructed that success was built by doing something you love and not chasing money. In the end, you should always give back using these three principles…1. Spend Sunday with Family 2. Be involved in the community through Church or Politics 3. Give back to the industry that you chose with time and money…

These were the greeting words of Charles J. Palombini, President & C.E.O. of Kobrand Corporation as our group toasted with a glass of 1998 Comtes De Champagne Taittinger Blanc de Blancs. I sat inspired and in awe, finally the happy bubbles making the experience feel real for the first time. Before we headed to lunch, Mr. Palombini expressed how this Kopf award is meant to give future industry leaders the type of opportunities that successful people have handed to them all of the time.

What a beginning, what an opportunity. Stay tuned.

IMG_4224, originally uploaded by weltz8.

(Forgive the blurry photo. I will teach my traveling mates how to use the camera better soon!)

Small Bites

2008-08-31T21:23:00.001-07:00
For sometime now I wanted to dine at Bar Boulud, the new wine bar concept from famed chef Daniel Boulud. I could not have picked better dining companions than Elise and her fiancée Chef Bret. There is nothing more satisfying than to share a bite with people who love food.

Since they had already eaten dinner, we headed to the bar for some lighter fare. From here, the restaurant slices and plates all charcuterie items and has a wonderful display case lined with all of the meats. I went looking down the charcuterie menu and selected a chicken terrine with cilantro and lime, whole grain mustard and roasted peppers. Elise and Brett selected five cheeses—Coupole Chevre, Jasper Hill Bayley Hazen Blue, Ossau-Vieille sheep, Brie de Meaux, & Consider Bardwell Farm Dorset.

I was truly honored with Brett handed me the wine list to choose our beverage. It was a warm night and I was craving a Chablis. As I reviewed our foods, the highly acidic and refreshing nature of this wine was sure to complement our fare. I explained to Elise, a sucker for off dry whites (Go Riesling and stay tuned for my new post!), that the 2006 Joseph Drouhin Domaine de Vaudon Chablis was going to be totally dry, exhibit minerality and be satisfyingly quenching—how could she say no?

As expected, the terrine and wine was a wonderful match as the hints of lime and cilantro played off of the slight herbal qualities of the wine while cutting through the fatty meat. The Chablis and Chevre was the best paring of the night—they matched in intensity and the milky texture of the cheese cleaned up the wine and brought out some floral nuances. The most interesting cheese of the plate was the Consider Bardwell Farm Dorest because everything it lacked in smell, it made up for in a sophisticated and earthy flavor. The disappointment was the Brie de Meaux which lacked any noteworthy qualities.

It was impossible to escape the hustle of the busy dining room at Bar Boulud as servers raced by our perches at the bar. All of the commotion around this culinary clique did not deter conversation on all things food on the road to another memorable meal. Another night in New York City, another moment created in the name of food.

Bloggers Unite!

2008-08-29T17:42:00.000-07:00
The world of blogging was just made smaller today as I was fortunate to meet fellow blogger and Israeli wine enthusiast Gary, or "Wine Tasting Guy." Along the trail of distributing Israeli wines for Yarden Inc., Gary made time to introduce himself and tell me all about his current wine adventures.

Today's encounter was truly a pleasure and I hope this stands as a challenge for all bloggers to reach out and meet the individuals obsessed with the same things as themselves.

No Mud, No Gain

2008-08-28T19:19:00.001-07:00

IMG_4171, originally uploaded by weltz8.
There is nothing like playing in the Mud, even if that means a coffee truck in New York City. Indeed I wanted coffee but was further inspired by all of the orange that came into view from the truck, the straw and my friends orange glasses. All of this playfulness made me want to try something new, and I followed Anna’s lead (swap Soy Milk for Whole Milk of course) and ordered an Iced Chai with a shot of Espresso.

Cheers to a new favorite drink and an exciting day out with a special friend.

IMG_4170, originally uploaded by weltz8.

The Jazz Life

2008-08-28T18:17:00.001-07:00

IMG_4132, originally uploaded by weltz8.
With a pause in travel and some time for interpretation, I decided to rent an apartment in New York City. Armed with plenty of places to eat and drink, I set off to experience as many as I could. My time started not with food, but with two Jazz concerts to commemorate the great Charlie Parker. For the show at Marcus Garvey Park in the Bronx, I was accompanied by my dear friend Jennie. While eating Coconut Pie, we listened to world renowned jazz drummer Rashid Ali—a former drummer for John Coltrane and founding father of free jazz.

After this musical experience, I was fortunate to meet late night with another amazing friend and world traveler Elise whom was accompanied by her fiancée Bret—a sous chef at a famous New York eatery. I walked the dark blocks of Harlem and arrived at St. Nicks Pub. This dive bar setting had a band wailing away in the far corner. We sipped on whisky and ginger ale while we caught up and let the music take us away.

Live from New York…It’s Weltman’s Wineing.

IMG_4121, originally uploaded by weltz8.

All aboard the Cava train?

2008-08-22T16:36:00.000-07:00

Good question—depends on your definition.

I was underground and the smell of mold perfumed the air. The cellar at Codorniu was huge—the largest of the Cava houses in fact. With over 500 meters of caves and 20 miles roads, I found myself in an underground wine village. This was of course impressive, particularly when I boarded a trolley for the grand tour.

There was over five generations of history under the Cordorniu label, and I was excited to taste as I approached a long wooden table in the upper-parts of the bodega. Three glasses were at each seat—2 white and 1 red. It was that moment when I realized my dear friend and Advanced Level Sommelier Brent had mentioned Cordorniu as the first producer of a 100% Pinot Noir Cava. I was excited to finally sample the project, but what transpired made me think.

The other two wines present were comprised of over 50% Chardonnay and had similar characteristics to the father of sparkling wines, Champagne. With this cookie-cutter approach, I was left thinking, “Where are the Cava’s with the three backbone grapes of Macabeo, Xarel-lo, and Parellada?" History and all, these wines were lacking something.

A short drive away existed Agusti Torello, a family run operation. Our group was received by the Torello family and given a tour of their factory. As we walked through the cellar, a team was disgorging every bottle by hand. Using pliers, they loosened the corks which would then explode off with the pressure. A fine steam rose from the bottles and was sniffed for quality. This ritual added a sense of comfort to me—it seemed more personal. In stark contrast to Codorniu, Agusti Torello was committed to using the three native Cava varietals. This added a distinction to their product that I craved from Cordorniu. Also, as a quality measure, the Torello family included a disgorgement date on every bottle.

The wines at Codorniu had history on their side with innovation coming by utilizing Champagne varietals. On the other hand, Agusti Torello is paving the way by honoring tradition and only using the grapes of the region. Just as a grower Champagne, Agusti Torello added a personal element which was expressed through their wines while ignoring the cookie-cutter nature of large house producers.

Courage

2008-07-01T13:30:00.000-07:00

If there is one thing that stands out in the Basque region of Spain, it is their decanting of light bodied Takolit wine and hard apple cider from such heights. Perhaps I notice this more given my new appreciation to the art of decanting after reading the comic Drops of G-d (see two posts ago). In this particular scene, a 1999 Richbourg Domain de la Romanee-Conti is deemed a fake and unpalatable until a mysterious restaurant patron decants the wine from high above the actual glass decanter. This extra aeration opens the wine and releases The Fragrane of 1000 Flowers. Back to the present and let me make clear that I am not drinking DRC, but do not get hung up on this point. This practical addition to beverage service is done for the very same reason, even adding a theatrical element.

Further, there is a social element that is added with this simple aeration process. In a typical Bosque Cider house where everything is served family style (there were not individual plates), the only way to receive a beverage was to get it yourself. This courtship started by announcing “choch” to the fellow diners as an invitation to join. The procession marched to a barrel room with around 15 enormous wooden barrels—all boasting a different cider maker. With the turn of a nozzle, a fine stream of cider rains into the waiting glass. The idea is not to take too much because the cider is rather lousy when warm. As one glass finishes, the next person in line assumes the position to fill their glass.

With practicality and unpretentious nature, the courageous decanting serves it purpose from the ciders of Spain to the fine wines of the country. Happy drinking.

Reinterpretation

2008-06-15T16:48:00.000-07:00

In the La Mancha region of Spain at El Cigarral Winery, our culinary group was greeted by Javier Munoz who was responsible for all of the operations pertaining to elaborating the wine. He is the son of world famous chef Adolfo Munoz and joined his fathers cause to keep Spanish culinary traditions alive. For the first time, I felt as though Javier wanted us to understand the wine and its origin—he courted us like a children taking our first steps. This delicate relationship started in the vineyard where we smelled the dirt and listened to his minimalist intervention approach to growing the grapes. “Quality is the key to success,” Javier repeated in his broken English and boyish grin. The wine, specifically named Pago de Ama (Vineyard of Mother) was made from 100% Tempranillo. The name is his way of connecting the beverage to the greater importance of respecting the origin of life. As he instructed, I rose my glass with my left hand so it was closer to my heart and tasted a wine that flowed with passion.

Wine author David Lynch once stated during a lecture that wine will always taste better when it is drank at the place it was made. As I sipped the wine while shaded by the white Mediterranean cloth and overlooking the sun soaked vineyards, I tasted the dirt I had smelled an hour before, and connected with this excellent wine. It could all be in my head, but there is no illusion to quality and sometimes it takes the human element to rightfully elevate any relationship.

Tasting Notes:
2005 Pago De Ama La Mancha:
Color: Purple/Black core with redish rim
Nose: Dried fruit, fig, blood orange, MINERAL, violet
Taste: Chocolate, smokey, med-high tannin, obvious vanilla. Chocolaty finish. Well balanced with acidity.

Day Ones and Birthday Fun

2008-06-13T10:34:00.000-07:00

My time flying from New York to Madrid was filled with the beginning stories of the manga comic, Drops of God, which is a mystery about twelve bottles of wine that the son of a famous Japanese wine critic must hunt down. The writing is beautiful and a fresh approach to describing wine—the first chapter is called The Fragrane of 1000 Flowers. This is referring to a 1999 Richbourg Domain de la Rominee-Conti that’s closed bouquet was opened up by a decanting job that was properly described as “courageous.”

I chose the beef dinner which turned out be a rather dry braised beef, a Mediterranean salad and tiramisu for dessert. I started by prompting a toast with my neighboring passengers with a miniature CAVA bottle that had a screw cap. I wanted bubbles, it was my birthday after all.

After a seamless flight and mile trek through the huge, and yet beautiful Madrid Airport, the bus tour of Madrid was underway. After marveling at the many parks, fountains and statues, it was time to eat.

In an area that reminded me of the Old City of Jerusalem, we stopped for Chocolate con Churros. A cup of liquid ganache was removed from the precision balancing act being performed by the waiter and handed to each person. Plates of fresh churros were placed for each table to share. The treat, although not exactly the sustenance I needed at the moment, was an extravagantly rich start and a hint of what was to come.

The oldest tavern in Madrid is called Botin, and this is where we broke bread for the first dinner in Spain. The house red wine was a table wine with the restaurant name on the label, and I would guess a blend of mostly Grenache with come Tempranillo. I would have offered a white Verdejo to accompany the first course of boil and roasted artichoke, Serrano ham and olive oil, for there was quite an adverse reaction when combining the two. All was forgotten when the head of a suckling pig was passed around to sample the entrée. I cut from three places, the tongue, brain, and crispy skin from the cheek. The crunchy skin played off nicely to the denser tongue and fatty brain. What’s more is the wine seemed to be built for this dish and that first bite was perfect.

On the culinary super highway of Espana…

A New Wave

2008-06-13T10:30:00.000-07:00
…The next five months of Weltman’s Wineing are going global and will be transcribed from Spain, California, Italy and France. In Spain, I will be experiencing the gastronomic pleasures of the country and of course, the wine! I will also work at a summer camp near Villadolid for one month and a half through La Fundacion de la lengua Espanola.
There will be a quick turnaround after these two months of exploration and I will be gearing up to fulfill my reception of the R.C. Kopf wine award. After hard work and enormous anticipation, I earned the chance to harvest grapes, eat in restaurants, and experience the premier wine regions/cultural centers of California, Italy, and France.
Expect first hand accounts of these historic places with food/restaurant analysis, pictures and stories from the road. With so many stimuli, the writing may jump around, so I apologize in advance. But hey, who could blame me?

A Middle Eastern Fiesta

2008-06-10T20:16:00.000-07:00

It is rare to find a situation when a Hola can be mixed with a Habibi to create the perfect balance of culinary flare, so I made sure to seize an opportunity to make Baklavah with an elderly neighbor of mine Victoria. She is an Arab woman who was raised in Mexico, and embodies the true spirit of each unique land.

Victoria’s strong Arabic exterior supplied some needed precision in creating the dish, while the hint of the carefree Latin heart shown through with the way she cooked with love. True to form, Victoria opened her home to me and was eager to teach me this culinary staple.

As the layers were piling, I watched a master creating her art. We spoke very little with the occasional catching up phrases to fill the silence. Many times, Victoria insisted I take a seat—she wanted me to be comfortable. Amidst her efforts, I never left her side. As we worked, I rediscovered an unconditional respect that I had for Victoria as a child, and now as a man.

As a crossroad of culture and experience, Victoria and I met to share an afternoon culinary adventure. This was a timeless act, one that will allow me to share this delicious treat and act a reminder to take the time and learn from a special friend.

Red Carpet Treatment

2008-05-19T03:18:00.000-07:00

Below ground and straight out a movie, our van pulled up to a white door. A wine party here I questioned—it seemed the most unlikely of places. I was in the basement of a parking garage with construction equipment and prized cars covered by tarps. The only thing I was waiting for was a mob hit to go down.

A man in a suit approached the car and directed our group in. We entered an industrial kitchenette equipped with beautiful stainless steel counters and appliances. Through the kitchen, a maze of red carpeting lead in every direction—there was an eerie exactness to the scene. I made a right and my gaze fell upon perfection. Through the door was a gentleman’s lair—hard wood floors, black granite counters, and a long wooden table. On the left side of the room was the personal wine cellar of our host where 8,000 prized bottles lay resting.

After a quick chat, our host gave me a demonstration on how to use the ‘Ah-So’ wine opener, stating its efficiency for older bottles. I informed him that the instrument received its name from people trying to figure out how to use it, then stating “Ah, so that’s how it works!” From that story on, I was in.

Chef Leanne was present again and creating her tempting hours devours. The chicken nagamaki was just as flavorful as before. While others ran treys of food, I stood at my post with four bottles of exclusive French wines ready to be tasted. Rightfully so, the guests choose to start drinking the white Burgundy and the Egly-Ouriet Blanc De Noirs Grand Cru. Both of these bottles were a refreshingly special treat. While tending to their appitites and wetting their palates, the party moved in my direction for the red quartet. The two clarets included a Chateau Pape Clement Grand Crue Classe de Graves 2003 & a Chateau Leoville Poyferre Saint Julien 1996. The Pap Clement was had an intense minerality to it and was a pleasure to drink. Perhaps it was a little rougher around the edges, but I enjoyed every sip. The next two wines included a Chateau La Fleur-Petrus Pomerol 1989 & a Domaine de Montille Les Taillepieds Volnay 2000. The La Fleur was special (I happen to love great merlots) but maybe a little past its prime. But, the bouquet of the Les Taillepieds is something I have been waiting to smell from a quality Burgundy. Unfortunately, this wine was overmatched by the weight of the others, and the tasting glasses did not preserve the delicate aroma. Needless to say, this was my favorite wine of the night but was underappreciated by many of the guests.

After the gathering broke, I spent a few minutes in the cellar—just the bottles and me. All of the history, pride and excitement from this precious collection transformed me into a kid again, particularly seeing my birth year in the form of 1986 Chateau Margaux. With a final sigh, I turned off the lights and followed the red carpet out to a new wine adventure.

High above Reality

2008-05-01T07:37:00.000-07:00
Forty stories up and over looking the Atlantic Ocean, I took in the breezes from the balcony of a resident penthouse in the Ritz Carlton Hotel. The table was set and looked like a run way in the middle of the all glass dining room; the crystal glassware bent the light into numerous rainbows. The night was not yet in motion, so I reveled in the fresh air on the balcony. I needed to be sharp and sat to memorize the menu, but it was the wines for the evening that made me giddy. Crates of very exclusive bottles arrived earlier and were put into storage. Three magnums of Chablis 1er Cru Montee de Tonnerre, Francois Raveneau, 1999, six bottles of Chateau Mouton Rothschild, Paullac, 1990, and six bottles of Tokaji Aszu, 5 Puttonyos, Chateau Pajzos, 1999 completed the list. This all star line up was selected by the Wine Director from Veritas in New York City, and I hoped for the chance to taste them.

In the kitchen was LeeAnn Leichtfus, an elegant woman and high end personal chef—most notably for a client whose clothing is probably in your wardrobe. She started with an array of passed hors d’oeuvres which was highlighted by bite-sized Dill Biscuits with Smoked Salmon and Crème Fraiche, and Chicken Nagamaki with Sweet and Spicy Pepper Sauce. The main course was Olive Crusted Lamb with Parmesan Polenta—a beautiful blacked exterior gave the impression of a jerk style preparation. Even after all of the food and wine, the diners made room for her famous White Chocolate and Raspberry Torte.

The evening had a seamless flow to it, which was made possible by knowledgeable diners, a gracious hosts, and flawless ambiance created by food and wine harmony. And, as toast to the evening, I was able to experience each of the coveted bottles.

Tasting Notes

1er Cru Montee de Tonnerre, Francois Raveneau, 1999
Tasting notes: The most exciting wine for me. Ripe melon heightened by an acidic quality that I’ve never experienced in a wine before. Obvious grassy/herbaceous notes that remained tame on the palate with a minerality that defined the wine.

Chateau Mouton Rothschild, Paullac, 1990
Tasting Notes: Drinking wonderfully now (did not try with Lamb but I can only imagine pure bliss). Less herbal/menthol qualities than other vintage Bordeaux I’ve tried, but extremely well balanced.

Tokaji Aszu, 5 Puttonyos, Chateau Pajzos, 1999
Wine File: Made with two grape varieties, Furmint and Harslevelu. For the Aszu, the grapes are separated in the field—botrytised grapes and healthy grapes. The healthy grapes are made into a dry, white, highly acidic wine, virtually un-palatable. The rotten grapes, having been pounded into a paste, are added to the dry wine. Per tradition, the measurement of sugar is in puttonyos, named after the 20 kg buckets that the grapes are collected in. A five puttonyos wine has 120 g/l of sugar. The wine is matured for between three to six years in cask and allows for a slight oxidation which lends to its deep amber color.
Tasting notes: Front and back palate juxtaposition when the honeyed sweetness is tamed by a very high acidity. Sweet nectar of the g-ds.

Don't Judge the Men by the Beer

2008-04-27T08:41:00.000-07:00

Guy’s night with beer—it is not hard to set the scene in your mind. Imagine a raucous crowd with men chugging cheap swill and talking over each other, all culminating to an eventual roar. This may be deflating to the frat boy image, but my latest night with some pals included quick wit humor and a sweet beer. I will explain.

Our gathering centered around the Brouwerij Lindemans Belgian Peche Lambic Beer. Need more convincing? Lambic beers differentiate themselves by utilizing fermentation spontanee—almost a renegade status in today’s world of sterilization. The wild yeast responsible for transforming the malted and un-malted wheat mash is the infamous bettanomyces bruxellensis. This is the true sign of imperfect technique in wine making, and in small doses, adds sensual aromas of barnyard and leather. As lambic beers ferment in open wooden casks, they transform a young, refreshingly dry beer with a distinct funkiness and vinegar like acidity. Overtime the flavors mellow out and the beer develops a rounder flavor. Fruit lambics started in the Senne Valley of Belgium by steeping whole fruits in the beer and causing a second fermentation. This created a striking dry beer with a fruity presence.

Some argue that the sweet lambics, as we drank, are not authentic and hide the nuances of a traditional gueuze lamic, which is blend of old and young beers. Just as a Moscato D’Asti has its place, so does the Peche Lambic from last Friday evening. Grab your waiters corkscrew (there is a cork), some rocks glasses and pour the beautifully hazy beer. With the Peche, expect succulent, yet refreshing peach marmalade flavors accented by the floral hops and a distinct malty undertone. Oh yeah, keep other drinks on hand.

Kosher or Not, Wine is a Great Ambassador

2008-04-06T11:33:00.000-07:00

In celebration of Israel’s 60th birthday, the Jewish Culture Club thought to highlight quality kosher products by hosting a school-wide wine and cheese gathering. In collaboration with Marty Siegmeister of Allied Wine Importers of Brooklyn, we brought Israeli winery owner Alex Haruni of Dalton Winery, to The Culinary Institute of America for a broad tasting of their wine portfolio. Mr. Siegmeister expressed his excitement at working with CIA students when he said, “As an alumnus of the Cornell Hotel School, I have always had a very high regard for the CIA.” He represents eight wineries from Israel, one of which is Dalton.

British native Alex Haruni and his family purchased Dalton Winery in 1995 in an effort to reinvigorate the forgotten wines of the Upper Galilee in Northern Israel. All of the wines are kosher, which means that immediately following the harvest, every aspect of the wine making process must be carried out by observant Jews. Mr. Haruni, already in New York on business, was delighted to present his wines at the CIA. He admitted, “I was a little nervous at first when I heard there would be students and faculty. This is a world class institution.”

Mr. Haruni graciously supplied 11 Dalton wines for our fifty delighted participants. They represented the diversity of Israeli wine making from grape to production technique. The cheese selections came from Italy and France, and were also kosher. As with the wine, the cheese making process has to be carried out by observant Jews, and the cheese can only be made with rennet from certified kosher animals.

In the days leading up to the event, our diverse student body peppered me with questions about kosher products, wine, and Israeli food in general. Sharing my enthusiasm for the topic I talked about how Israel is working to “create a modern wine industry.” But, I encouraged them they had to taste and decide for themselves.

As the evening progressed, those same students were educating their palates and broadening their culinary knowledge. Their ideas about kosher wine being the stereotypic sweet, sacramental, Manischewitz-style wines were shattered as they progressed from glass to glass. While pairing the wines and cheese, Mr. Haruni shared the story of each wine and solicited our opinions—taking our comments to heart. As our rapport built, discussion broadened to questions about kosher laws, other Israeli food products, and the direction of the Israeli wine scene.

The evening marked the first CIA hosted all-kosher Israeli wine tasting on campus. We sampled some great wines and learned a lot about how kosher wines are prepared—proving that what Mr. Haruni told us is true—“Wine is a great ambassador.”

True Craft

2008-03-31T11:41:00.000-07:00

It is these hands that granted a wish; my mission to DiFara Pizza becoming a reality. After a missed opportunity while out on the town prior, I convinced four unsuspecting friends to accompany
me on this adventure.

Difara means simplicity. The space is army green, small, somewhat dusty, and smells of authenticity. Dusty New York Times articles are mounted on the wall and tell the story of Demenico De Marco and how he shaped his pizza shrine throughout the years. Mr. De Marco rarely speaks as he shuffles in his pizza arena. He looks comfortable.

My time to order comes, and I am too nervous to speak—I fall into the DiFara system. 'Margarita Pizza' I say with little thought. I knew it would not be enough. Quickly, I order the Pepperoni Pie. Yes, I repeat, the large round ones. As I offered to pay then, the young assistant rattles off the news that in the system I need to wait until the pie comes. It’s just how it is.

While the pizzas are cooking, I wandered the neighborhood of Avenue J and stumbled into the Kosher Wine Store. After of a discussion on the Jewish Wine Laws (see new post) I emerged with a 2005 Gabriele Chianti DOCG. This final treasure completes the menu.

My pizzas emerge and sit on the counter, bubbling for everyone to admire. I think about taking them right then, but I decide to rely on the system to guide me. Mr. De Marco grinds fresh mozzarella and buffalo mozz through the hand grinder, and then scatters it in a jazz-like-manner. He goes to the window and retrieves a bunch of basil and a pair of scissors. Using jabbing motions to spread the herb, he proceeds to trim the rounded bunch.

The final step, which typifies Mr. De Marco, is when he grabs the pizza slicer and starts to cut. His hands know how to keep the integrity of this culinary creations, and he makes every movement count. He does not cut across the pizza in standard pizzeria style, instead opting to craft every piece individually. Perhaps this is his personal challenge, or maybe he is just that good. Each slice is made with full intention. I am told the pizzas were ready, and take them to our team which conquers the back corner table.

Some drink brown-bagged beers--we all sip wine. In true fashion, everybody folds the slice and takes the memorable first bite. With a fun group and an adventurous day, we craft a great meal courtesy of the hands at DiFara Pizza.

The ABC's to a 9th Street High

2008-03-22T16:45:00.000-07:00
When I die, take me to 9th street espresso…My heaven includes the perfect cup of coffee, a good book and the right people. This new definition (it will make the 2009 Webster) occurred somewhere between the caffeine stimulated dreamlike exhausted state I was in while trying to read Albert Camus. My literary seedy bar became my hipster coffee shop, and one hundred pages later and I knew nothing of what I had read, for the happenings in Ninth Street where far more interesting.

Well-dressed-self-proclaimed-intellects spoke about new ideas, movies being made, and everything in the world to an eventual nothingness. It was beautiful. The entire time, my latte sat with the frothy fern artwork never yielding to my rejuvenating sips.

The barista, a cool cat ‘stoked’ about his newly shaved head with a friendly laugh pulled a shot from the Alphabet City Blend crafted by Counter Cultures Coffee. My coffee road is mapped by this company; the only thing changing is location and ambiance. Quality driven from one cool place to another.

Alas, my camera ran out of batteries leaving myself and my readers with the mental snap shot. The sun was shining, the air was brisk. ::sip:: It was the perfect day.

Breaking the Crust

2008-03-15T22:33:00.000-07:00
After a stimulating three part coffee experience that included lectures by Counter Cultures Coffee Roasters, as well as a Signature coffee demonstration by the 2007 World Barista Chmapion, James Hoffman, my love for quality beans was reinvigorated. This lead me to participate in a professional cupping. The trail to this sensory experience started over two years ago when I spent two months of living the hacienda life, cowboy hat and all, taking travelers on tours around the coffee land of Copan, Honduras.When the opportunity arose to participate in a professional coffee cupping, I was very excited.

My approach mimicked how I enter a wine tasting—open to the experience, but extremely focused. This is an opportunity to taste coffee in the most pure form. The process includes smelling the whole beans and freshly ground versions to start. Hot water is poured directly into the glass with the grounds at 14 grams / 10 oz coffee to water ratio. The concoction steeps for three minutes and a crust forms on the top. A spoon is used to break the hard layer—quite the experience. The most pure aroma of coffee shoots out from the broken armor with such vigor that my nose ended up in the brew on many occasions. A seductive creama forms, but for cupping purposes, it needs to be scraped off. The most fun, and auditory part of the cupping occurs when tasters slurp the coffee off the spoon to give it proper aeration.

Referring back to the lecture with Counter Cultures, Peter concluded with the inspirational reminder that we “Exchange cultural information through our palate.” Mine, with coffee, is back on track.

Tasting Notes:
Coffee 1: Kuta, Waghi Valley, Papua New Guinea has fragrance of strawberry, pencil shavings and chamomile with layers of bitter sweet chocolate. Not overly fruity with a dusty characteristic. This is a great everyday coffee that has a clean after taste. In wine terms, this is my Bordeaux.

Coffee 2: La Golondrina, Cauca, Columbia has a slightly herbal fragrance that opens to a pineapple driven tropical fruit aroma. It is very bright with banana and cinnamon flavors; other tropical fruit as well. The after taste can only be described as fun, and this is my Beaujolais Cru of the coffees.

Coffee 3: 21st de Septiembre, Zaragoza, Mexico, Certified Organic, Naturally Decaffeinated, Shade Grown is boastful with a menthol fragrance, and aromas of chocolate, caramel and gooseberry ('cat piss'). The chocolate and raisin flavor is concentrated and complex and the coffee has an overall cheweyness to it. If the other two are Old World in style, this has New World written all over it with the fruitiness of a California Cabernet or the extreme herbaceous character of a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc.

For more on these fine grinds, check out http://www.counterculturecoffee.com/.

Queen Ester

2008-03-11T20:43:00.000-07:00

What does one of my recent wine experiences have in common with the holiday of Purim? Quite a lot actually. Purim marks the triumph of Queen Esther and her brother Mordachai in the kingdom of Persia. They foil an attempt on the Jew’s lives at the hands of the villain Haman. Her majesty enjoyed going to balls, and modern tradition follows in her pleasures. The holiday is practiced by dressing in costume and consuming large amounts of beverages. It is even suggested that the celebrations include drinking enough wine so Mordechai and Haman, the hero and villain, can not be differentiated. If anyone has been in Israel during this time, imagine Mardi Gras in the Middle East.

Where as my wine experience has more to do with quality than quantity, the idea of celebrating was certainly on the minds of the guests during a charity dinner. My triumph came in tasting a coveted first growth from an exceptional year—a ’66 Chateaux Latour Pauillac Grand Vin. After conversing with the guests and seeing the line up of Clarets, I sought out two glasses per person to start. The host of the table instructed me to bring yet another glass after I placed the others. When I returned, the man lifted his ’66 Latour and poured. The chaos of the packed dining room stood still as he purposed a toast for me to enjoy a taste with him and his guests.

It was a large part gesture (let’s face it, a ’66 Chateau Latour sells for over $1000) that heightened the experience. Furthermore, there is nothing greater than the first aromas of forty-two years worth of slow oxidation coupled with the reaction of organic acids and alcohol to brand my memory bank—over 500 esters of intense aroma. The wine was bright but incredibly concentrated. It displayed a strong mint quality on the nose with layers of olives and fresh leather. The wine had a finish that continued to linger as I marched to the kitchen to carry out the first course.

In this Jewish month of Adar, use this vignette to remember Esther in the name of celebration, and embrace esters for creating a sensory party in the glass. L’Chaim!

Welcome to Weltman's Wineing

2008-03-10T13:46:00.000-07:00

I invite interested readers to travel, taste, and experience the culinary pleasures of the world through my writings. I love to question, and in turn, invite insight from readers to comment on my posts. Expect exciting first hand accounts of restaurant experiences, wine or beverage tastings, worldy culinary endevours, and just about anything else I can put a culinary perspective on.