Pisano Rio de Los Pajaros Tannat Reserve

Uruguay is a small country in South America whose name translates into "river of the painted birds" in the indigenous Guarani language. And, the name is an apt description of the rolling hills and rivers throughout the country. There are over 400 different species of birds of all sizes and colors, from small hummingbirds to large flamingos. 

Yet, Uruguay is better known for other things, such as its food. The country's beef consumption per capita is one of the highest in the world, which I learned about as I made a Smoked Ribeye Roast, Uruguayan Style. It is also known for the Chivito al Pan, a heart-clogging sandwich of steak, ham, bacon, cheese, egg, and other toppings that is perhaps my most favorite sandwich of all time. 

There is also something from Uruguay that is one of my most favorites ... a tannat wine from Pisano, a vineyard and winemaker run by a small group of family vignerons. The wine caught my attention because of its single varietal .. the tannat grape. Tannat grapes are perhaps one of the most tannic grapes out there, with thick skins, deep purple color and more seeds than other wine-making grapes. Those characteristics contribute to what winemakers and sommeliers would refer to as an "aggressive structure," which includes high levels of tannins and acidity. Those elements would make for a harsher, more astringent wine on their own, which is why Tannat is typically used to balance softer grapes, like Cabernet Franc or Cabernet Sauvignon.

The Tannat grape was first planted in the Basque region of France along the Pyrennes mountains. It particularly took root (pun intended) in the Madiran AOC and the Basque appellation of Iroulèguy. A Madiran AOC wine must include at least 60% Tannat grapes, supplemented by Cabernet Franc (Bouchy), Cabernet Sauvignon, and/or Fer (Pinenc) grapes. There are also Madiran wines that are 100% Tanat. In the Iroulèuy region, which lies in the French Basque area, Tannat grapes -- known as Bordelesa Beltza -- are also to make similar wines.  

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This history serves as the background for the wine that is the subject of this post -- a Tannat wine whose grapes are cultivated on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. Basque winemakers emigrated to the New World and one particular immigrant, Pascual Harriague, brought Tannat grapes to Uruguay. Harriage planted vine cuttings in Salto around 1870 to 1874. The grape adapted extremely well to the climate of Uruguay, in some rather interesting ways.  The coastal humidity and warm weather of Uruguay help to soften the grape, which help to make the wine more fruit-forward and less astringent (albeit slightly). The grapes eventally became the most widely planted grape in Uruguay, as well as the national grape of the country.  

There are two styles of winemaking with Tannat grapes: a traditional style and a modern one. The traditional style reflects its Old World origins, which a red wine that has a lot of tannins, deep red color, and a significant period of aging in oak barrels. These wines are very structured, and, require additional aging in the bottle, as well as some time (usually about an hour) in a decanter once opened. By contrast, the modern style creates a relatively "lighter" wine (Tannat wines can only be so "light" given the high levels of tannins and acidity in the grapes). These wines tend to be aged less in oak barrels (or not at all), and much more fruit forward than a traditional Tannat wine.  

In my humble opinion, Pisano's Rio de los Pajaros Tannat pours like a modern Uruguayan Tannat wine. The wine has a lot of structure, but with a medium-bodied red wine, with a dark red color that is not completely impenetrable. The winemakers describe the color as a garnet red, which I think is a good description. The winemakers also describe the aroma as "dark chocolate, red and black fruit, and spices." I get the red and black fruit, and perhaps some notes of chocolate. The spices were a little more hidden than the aromas. 

As for the taste, I definitely get the red and black fruit, such as raspberries, black cherries and blackberries. The winemakers also suggest some coffee notes, but, like the spice aromatic elements, they were a little hidden in the taste. The winemakers hit the mark in describing the balance of this wine. I could definitely sense the tannins in the wine, but they were rounder and softer, which allowed the fruit notes to come through more prominently.  

This wine is one of my favorites and I always pick up a bottle when I see it in the store. If you come across a bottle, I would recommend it ... you will have an opportunity to try a wine from a region you probably would not have thought to exist and a varietal that you might not have thought would be used to make a standalone wine. All in all, it is definitely worth a try, and another one, and another one. (I think you get the point.) Until next time ...

PEACE.

Haitian Style Spicy Grilled Octopus

Octopuses can be found around the Caribbean Sea; and, as one could expect, they make their way onto the plates in restaurants and homes from Jamaica to Dominica. I recently decided to make a Caribbean-inspired octopus recipe. As I searched for a recipe to make, I came across a recipe from a Haitian blogger, food photographer and recipe developer, Annick Megie. The recipe looked like it was something I could make and the dish looked beautiful (Megie is, after all, a food photographer). 

The recipe was even simpler for me because I had purchased pre-cooked octopus. I have worked with raw octopus, and, I have a place where I could easily buy one, but the cooked version was what I had on hand when I was looking to make the recipe. If you have a pre-cooked octopus, you can skip to step 3 in the recipe below. If you don't, then you should follow steps 1 and 2 (especially the dipping the octopus first before you completely submerge it). 

In terms of white wines to use to cook the octopus, think of something that you could pair with the dish when it is ready to eat. Some easier to find wines might be an Albarino from Galicia, Spain; or a Vinho Verde from Portugal. If you are able to search a little more, perhaps a Vermentino from Sardinia, Spain; or a PicPoul de Pinet from Langudoc, France. Basically, you want a lighter, more mineral wine. The opposite of an oaked Chardonnay. (An unoaked Chardonnay would work well.)

As I researched the use of octopus in Haitian cuisine, I read an article (which I am now unable to find again), about how fishermen in the northern coastal cities (most likely Cap-Haitien, but I would like to think it included smaller cities like Labadee or Basse-Terre) would bring back octopus as part of their daily catch.  However, while most of those in the Haitian boat-fishing is done by men, there are women who catch octopus and turtles. That enables women to go beyond their traditional roles in the fishing industry, which focuses more on the processing and selling of the catch. 

Although it is not Haitian, this link will take you to a videostory, Felicia: The Life of an Octopus Fisherwoman, which tells the story of an octopus fisherwoman in Madagascar. While the film tells the story of a fisherwoman half-way around the world, there are commonalities in the life-experiences. Madagascar is one of the poorest countries in Africa, just as Haiti is the poorest country in North America and the Caribbean. Large populations live at or below the poverty line, doing the best to survive on a daily basis. They compete for resources, not just with each other, but with outsiders - like large fishing fleets - that often win the battle. The result is overfishing and environmental degradation, leaving less for the local fishermen and women to feed their families or sell at the market. The experience of Felicia may very well be the experience of women living in poverty along the coastlines of Haiti, or many other places around the world. 

A reminder that, behind a pretty plate of grilled octopus, there are people struggling just to survive. It is struggle shared by the poor around the world, from Haiti to Madagascar, from the United States to Australia.

HAITIAN STYLE SPICY GRILLED OCTOPUS

Recipe from Tchakayiti

Serves 4

Ingredients (for the broth):

• 1 medium-sized ctopus, previously cleaned
• 1 cup of white wine
• 2-3 cups of water, enough to submerge the octopus
• 3 bay leaves
• 3-5 garlic heads
• 1 teaspoon cayenne
• 1 teaspoon chile powder
• 1 teaspoon paprika
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon pepper

Ingredients (for the sauce):

• 5 shallots chopped
• 1/2 red onion, chopped
• 1 piment bouc (or scotch bonnet) chopped
• 3 limes, juiced
• Olive oil
• Fresh parsley

Directions:

1. Prepare the octopus.  In a pot, combine all of the broth ingredients. Make sure to add enough water to cover the octopus. Bring all the ingredients to a boil. Let simmer for about 10 minutes for the flavors to be infused. Dip the octopus in the water 2 or 3 times for about 10 seconds each time. This helps the tentacles curl up. Submerge the octopus completely in the broth. 

2. Cook the octopus.  Cook for about 45 minutes to 1 hour, until the octopus is tender. Be careful not to overcook it for that can have the reverse effect and make your octopus chewy. Take the octopus out of the water and cut it into small pieces. 

3. Make the sauce. In a bowl, combine the spicy sauce ingredients. Drizzle the sauce atop the cut octopus. 

4. Marinate the octopus.  Cover and let marinate in the fridge for a few hours.  

5. Finish the dish.  Fire up the grill. Grill the octopus for about 5 to 10 minutes for each side or until it is crispy on the outside. Serve immediately. 

PEACE.

Chesapeake Oyster Dressing

The history of oyster stuffing can be traced back to the 17th century where, in Britain, cooks incorporated oysters with the ingredients used to stuff, among other things, chicken, fish, and rabbits. in the stuffing of for, among other things, chickens, fish, and rabbits. One of the earliest recipes can be found in The Accomplisht Cook (1685), where it appears in a recipe that called for the oysters to be cooked, mixed with herbs and spices, and then stuffed in a young hen's belly for roasting. 

The use of oysters in stuffing or dressing (the former refers to cooking it in the bird while the latter refers to cooking it separately), made its way across the Atlantic Ocean when the British colonized the new world. With oysters as plentiful up and down the east coast as they were in the British isles, it was only a matter of time before cooks would use oyster stuffings when preparing chicken, fish and, of course, turkeys. Thus, oyster stuffing itself migrated from New England down the coast to the Chesapeake Bay.

As the few who follow this blog know, I have an affinity for the Chesapeake Bay. I have spent a lot of time exploring various aspects about the Bay, especially when it comes to its cuisine. Recently, my beautiful Angel and our wonderful family spent some time during the most recent Thanksgiving holiday in Crisfield, Maryland. Crisfield is "the City Built on Oysters." It began as a small fishing village known as Sumer's Cove. However, John Crisfield had other ideas. He worked to get a railroad line built to the village, which was completed in 1866 when the first train pulled into the station. That railine, along with a steamboat wharf, turned the town into a transportation hub.  The residents renamed the town Crisfield. But, there was more in store for the town. 

Six years after that first train arrived in the city, there were 600 hundred registered oyster boats working out of the harbor. Thirteen years after that, an average of 400,000 bushels of oysters were arriving at the Crisfield Wharf annually. At its height, there were 40 to 50 seafod houses along the Crisfield waterfront. The city had become the "Seafood Capital of the World."  Oysters contributed more than just economic growth, their shells helped the city expand. People started taking the oyster shells from the shucking houses and using them to provide a building foundation. Those shells provided stability in an area that was primarily marshland prone to flooding. 

Maryland oysters.

Simply put, oysters were critical to the Crisfield's rise. So, it seemed appropriate that as the Savage Boleks had their Thanksgiving meal in Crisfield, I should prepare and serve an oyster dressing. The internet contains quite a few possible recipes, but I decided to prepare a recipe from the Oyster Recovery Partnership ("ORP"). The ORP is a non-profit dedicated to rebuilding the oyster population in the Chesapeake Bay. They do that through a variety of initiatives, including the restoration of public fishery reefs and the establishment of an oyster shell recycling program. The ORP has had an undeniable, beneficial impact on the oyster population, having planted more than 3.1 billion oysters on 3,000 acres of reef, and recycled more than 350,000 bushels of oyster shells. 

This recipe is very good and it was a hit at the meal. Just one note: I made one adjustment to the fourth step. As I was combining the ingredients, I noted that the mixture was a little dry. The recipe calls for adding some turkey stock to the mixture. I decided to add both stock and a little more white wine, roughly in equal proportions, until the mixture was moist enough. I have to admit that I did not measure as I worked, I just used my eye to make sure that the stuffing had the right moisture before being put into the oven. 

CHESAPEAKE OYSTER DRESSING

Recipe adapted from Oyster Recovery Partnership

Ingredients:

• 14 ounces of day-old bread, cut into pieces
• 8 tablespoons butter (1 stick)
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 3 celery ribs, chopped
• Sea salt, to taste
• Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
• 6 ounces of chicken (or turkey) broth, more if needed
• 4 ounces white wine
• 1 pint oysters (including liquor, strained)
• Juice of 1 lemon
• 1-2 teaspoons of hot sauce
• 2 tablespoons chopped parsley
• 1/4 teaspoon mace
• 1 tablespoon of Old Bay or XO spice
• 2 tablespoons of butter, cut into small pieces.

Directions:

1. Prepare the dressing. Place bread stuffing in a large bowl. Melt butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the chopped onion and celery and saute for 6-8 minutes until soft and just beginning to brown. Season lightly with salt and pepper, deglaze the pan with chicken (or turkey) broth and white wine and cook for another 2-3 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool slightly. 

2. Prepare the oysters. In a medium bowl, mix lightly the oysters, lemon juice, hot sauce and parsley. 

3. Bake the dressing. Add the cooled onion mixture to the bread. Gently fold in the oysters, mace, and Old Bay or XO spice. Add the reserved oyster liquor and mix gently. Add more chicken (or turkey) stock if the stuffing seems dry. It should be very moist. Put the stuffing in a large greased baking dish. Dot the surface with small pices of butter. Cover tightly with foil and bake at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for 30 minutes. Remove foil and bake for an additional 15 minutes. 

PEACE.

Turmeric Steamed Clams with Cabbage

I have made a commitment to myself to improve what I eat. The task requires me to focus on the balance in my cooking, incorporating new ingredients, new cooking techniques and, most importantly, new cooking philosophies. All of this work will hopefully improve my diet and my health. 

This effort has broadened my search for recipes, which is being documented as part of my culinary journey in The Mindfulness Foodways. The particular focus of this journey revolves around  how food can be used as "medicine." This focus has led me to longstanding culinary teachings like Ayurveda and Yakuzen, but it has also led me to other unexpected places. 

One such place is a website that has a mental health magazine, Awai Life. The website also has a wide range of recipes, each with an objective, such as improving sleep, regaining energy or eliminating loss of concentration. One recipe -- Turmeric Steamed Clams with Cabbage -- has the goal of relieving tension. Given the amount of stress and tension that I have in my work life, I thought it was a good idea to try this recipe. 

This recipe also represents a particular challenge for me. I am not a big fan of cabbage, and that is due to the taste of the vegetable. Over the course of my life, I only ate cabbage I was served cole slaw. Perhaps it was the vinegar dressing (that is the type of cole slaw that I prefer) or the celery seeds. Both of which can mask the flavor of cabbage. Yet, this recipe puts cabbage along side the clams. The use of turmeric adds flavor, but it is more of an earthy flavor rather than a tart or bitter flavor. The combination of turmeric and cabbage is not the same as vinegar/celery seeds and cabbage. 

Nevertheless, I made this dish and ate it, including the cabbage (although admittedly not all of it). This effort represented a first step forward to using cabbage, more specifically Napa cabbage, in my cooking. Time till tell how the journey will progress. 

TURMERIC STEAMED CLAMS WITH CABBAGE

Recipe from Awai

Serves 2

Ingredients:

• 1/2 pound of littleneck clams
• 1/2 pound of cabbage
• 1 tablespoon cilantro/coriander
• 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
• 4 tablespoons white wine
• 1 teaspoon butter

Directions:

1.  Prepare the clams. Wash the clams and place them in a tray. Add enough salt water to cover them (similar salt concentration to seawater, roughly 1 tablespoon of salt per 2 cups of water), cover with a dish towel, and leave in a cool dark place for 2-3 hours to remove the sand. Cut the coriander and coriander into bite-sized pieces.

2. Steam the cabbage. Place the cabbage in a heat-resistant container and place it in a steamer with the steam rising. Cover and steam for 5-6 minutes. Add the clams, along wtih the turmeric and white wine to a small pot, cover and steam for about 3 minutes. Remove the clams to a tray as they open, add butter to the broth and simmer for 1-2 minutes. 

3. Finish the dish. Return the clams to the cabbage, pour the broth over them and top with the coriander.

PEACE.

New York City Oyster Pan Roast

"No, I do not weep at the world - I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife."

- Zora Neale Hurston, Dust Tracks on a Road

 

Oysters possess an amazing power: they can enable individuals and, indeed, entire communities, to overcome the economic, political, and social structures that are built to deprive and marginalize them. This power has been demonstrated, time and time again, throughout the history of the United States. But, perhaps, the one example that can best illustrate the uplifting potential of oysters involves a dish known as the New York City Oyster Pan Roast. 

To truly understand the example, one must go in 1791. In that year, Thomas Downing was born on Chincoteague Island, Virginia, to two African-American parents. At that time and in that State, slavery reigned. And, Downings parents had been slaves. But, their slave master -- Captain John Downing, a wealthy landowner in Oak Hall -- converted to Methodism, which condemned slavery. Captain Downing freed all of his slaves, including Thomas Downing's parents. As freed slaves, his parents were able to buy a small tract of land, where they settled and where Thomas Downing was born in 1791. 

While a part of the State of Virginia, Chincoteague Island provided somewhat of a refuge from the larger world. It was a landscape where Thomas Downing could learn to handle a boat amongst the barrier islands and fish the waters. Those waters were also teeming with oyster beds, providing Thomas with the opportunity to harvest oysters, developing a keen eye for which ones were the best. 

The refuge of Chincoteague Island could not keep out history. As the War of 1812 commenced, Thomas Downing (then age 21) joined the Army and marched north to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, where he was stationed. After the war ended, Downing stayed in Philadelphia, where he met his wife and started a family that included four sons and a daughter. Downing also got a job working in an oyster bar, and he eventually opened his own bar. During that time, Downing learned that many freed African-Americans went further north to New York City, where they worked on oyster vessels and in the oyster industry. Downing decided to take his family and follow that path.

Census records reveal that Downing made the move to New York City by 1819, where he was registered as an oysterman. But, he was his own oysterman. Downing rented a skiff and plied the waters in the New Jersey flats to harvest oysters, whether by dredging, plucking or tonging. As writer Cameron Oglesby once observed, "oystering was a profession that allowed Black men to act as their own bosses providing a new and liberating sense of self and economic independence from White industrial America." Downing was living proof of that statement at the time.  

More importantly, even though Downing was living and working in the North, where slavery had been outlawed, he still had to endure discrimination and oppression from a white society that did not view him as an equal. Downing had a plan to overcome those obstacles: he would open an oyster bar, or oyster cellar, as they were known in New York City. But not just any oyster cellar. 

Present day location of where Thomas Downing's
Oyster House once stood. (Source: Robt. Wright)

At the time, oyster cellars in New York City had a certain ill repute. Many oyster cellars were rough places, found in basements that could be located with a red balloon flying outside the door. Thomas Downing chose 5 Broad Street in lower Manhattan for his business. That location was just a short walk to the centers of economic power, such as the Merchant Exchange, Wall Street, and the Customs House. While oysters were a food enjoyed by everyone, from the poor to the rich, Downing understood that the wealthy would pay a lot more for the same food. His oyster bar would focus on bringing in that wealthier clientele. 

Thomas Downing opened his oyster cellar in 1825, which could be found in the basement of 5 Broad Street. He used the network of friends that he made while working as an oysterman to procure the oysters for his restaurant. He even used his skiff to go out onto the waters early in the morning to meet those friends and procure the best oysters before they even reached the shore, let alone the market. Downing also utilized print advertisements in newspapers to promote his restaurant, including an ad in the March, 30, 1938 edition of the New York Herald that read: 

Oysters! - Oysters!  - Oysters!

The above article may be had in their prime at Downing's. I take this method of informing my customers that I have a better stock of oysters on hand at present, than I have had this season. The lovers of the above article can (I feel assured) be fully satisfied by calling at my establishment. It is with pleasure that I say that I can give my customers a better Oyster at present, than I could at any time this eason. Strangers who have any doubts as regard to the superiority of the New York Oysters, have only to call and try, and be satisfied.

Thomas Downing, 5 Broad St.

N.B. I have a lot of Pickled Oysters on hand for importation.

Downing also used advertisements to draw in customers for other dishes he served, including "a turtle of rather a singular description." His hard work paid off: he built up a clientele of rich white people who spent a lot of money at his establishment. He was able to expand his restaurant, leasing 3 Broad Street and 7 Broad Street, creating a dining room with fine carpeting, chandeliers, mirrors and damask curtains. He was also able to utilize the steam generated underground to create a "vault" that allowed for oysters to remain fresh until they were ready to be prepared and served. His business only grew from there, with additional restaurants opening in other parts of the city, as well as a growing export business that sent oysters up and down the eastern coast, as well as overseas. By 1857, Thomas Downing had a net worth of $100,000, which would be the equivalent of $3,723,862 in today's dollars. Downing was the richest African American and indeed richer than most white Americans when slavery gripped half of the nation and exploited most African Americans. 

At his fine dining establishment, Thomas Downing served oysters in a variety of ways: scalloped oysters, oyster pie, turkey stuffed with oysters, as well as "oysters roasted on a gridiron over oak shavings."  Yet, the one dish that has survived over time, and for which Thomas Downing is best known, is his New York City Oyster Pan Roast. 

I found a recipe for a Thomas Downing-inspired New York City Oyster Pan Roast, which was adapted from a recipe developed by Albert Lukas, the supervising chef at the Sweet Home Cafe, which is located in the Smithsonian National Museum for African American History and Culture. 

The key to the recipe and, in fact, the entire dish is the sauce. The sauce is prepared with shallots, along with white wine, oyster liqueur (the liquid in the oysters when shucked), Worcestershire sauce, chili sauce, and hot sauce. The butter and heavy cream add thickness to the sauce, along with this relatively white color. The sauce serves as the base in which the oysters are "pan-roasted" only for a few minutes. The goal is to firm up the sides, making them plumper without overcooking them. The dish is completed by portioning the oysters in shallow bowls, ladling some of the sauce over them, and serving them with toasted, buttered bread, which can be used to mopping up the sauce.

NEW YORK CITY OYSTER PAN ROAST

Recipe from the Washington Post

Serves 6

Ingredients:

• 12 baguette slices, for serving 
• 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, 1 of them melted
• 1 medium shallot, minced
• 1/2 cup dry white wine
• 3 dozen freshly shucked oysters, preferably from the bay
• 1 cup oyster liqueur
• 3 teaspoons chile sauce
• 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
• 1 cup heavy cream
• Generous 1/4 teaspoon Tabasco sauce

Directions:

1. Toast the baguette slices. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Arrange the baguette slices flat on a baking sheet and brush the tops of each one using the tablespoon of melted butter. Bake on the middle rack for 12 to 16 minutes until golden brown. Remove from the oven and let cool. 

2. Saute the shallots.  Meanwhile, heat 1 tablespoon of the butter in a large saucepan over medium low heat. Stir in the shallot and cook for 5 to 8 minutes until tender, then add the wine. Increase the heat to medium and cook for 10 to 15 minutes or until the liquid is reduced by half. Stir in the oyster liquor and cook just long enough for the mixture to begin bubbling at the edges. 

3. Continue cooking. Add the chile sauce, Worcestershire sauce and cream, stirring to blend well. Cook for two minutes, then reduce the heat to medium low; add the oysters and stir to coat. Cook for 2 minutes, being careful not to overcook them. Gently stir in the Tabasco sauce and the remaining tablespoon of butter with the saucepan until thoroughly incorporated. Remove from the heat.

4. Finish the dish. To serve, place 6 oysters into wide shallow bowls (6 bowls total) and then ladle the chile cream sauce over the oysters in each bowl. Garnish each with 2 baguette slices.

*     *     *

Postscript: While Thomas Downing found his independence, both self and economic, through serving oysters to white America, he never forgot the larger backdrop to his success. Downing offered his Broad Street restaurant as a stop on the Underground Railroad, where he hid fugitive slaves from the 1830s until the end of slavery in the 1860s. He also fought to restore the rights of African American men to vote, which had been effectively taken away when the State of New York passed a law requiring them to be residents for at least 3 years and own at least $250 worth of property. While that effort failed, Thomas Downing continued to be a staunch abolitionist and advocate for African-American rights. 

Downing also continued to be a victim of the white supremacist system and society in this country. For example, in 1840, Downing refused to exit a white's only railroad car. The railroad agents forcibly removed Downing from the car, using considerable violence. According to court records from Downing's lawsuit against the agents, they "struck him under the ear, ..., beat and kicked him, broke his hat and forced him violently from the car." The jury, which was most likely comprised of all white people, found the agents "not guilty." 

The lesson is that there are ways for marginalized and suppressed peoples to find their independence, but the only true way for them to achieve equality with the oppressors is to change a system built upon white supremacy. Since Downing's death in 1866, our country made advancements toward that change, but the problematic system remains intact; and, in recent months, the white supremacists are now reasserting themselves. Our path forward remains unwritten. We can still work toward a diverse, equitable and inclusive society, or the current system, which primarily benefits one group of people, will remain in place. Only time will tell.... 

PEACE. 

Poulet Basquaise

"The extent to which you can walk in someone else's shoes or at least eat their food, it's a plus for everyone." 

-- Anthony Bourdain

Although I have always been fascinated by other countries and other cultures, in many respects, Anthony Bourdain has been the one to introduce me to someone else's food. Whether it was No Reservations or Parts Unknown, I would watch intently as Bourdain traveled around the world and communed with people at a table eating food. It is one of the most basic ways to achieve a mutual understanding. 

One of the many places that Anthony visited was Basque country, a region that straddles both Spain and France. It was a place that returned to again and again. The reason, as he described it, was "my love for the Basque, for Basque culture, for my Basque friends, is absolute." If a region, its people and its culture can strike a feeling like that in Anthony Bourdain, then an exploration is a must. 

I have previously prepared dishes from Basque country, but mostly focusing on that part that lies within Spain. I wanted to cross the border into France, to learn more about the Basque who live in that country. Anthony Bourdain's recipe for Poulet Basquaise provided that opportunity. 

The dish, Poulet Basquaise, is said to have originated from the Soule province of southwestern France, which is deep in the Basque country. The original recipe called for creating a sauce from bread and vegetables; however, it evolved over time to require the use of a piperade, which is base of tomato, onion and bell pepper. The dish also features the espellete, a pepper grown in the region (but which can be hard to find elsewhere). While the use of espellete is a must in Basque cooking, adequate substitutes include paprika or, if you would like a little more heat, Aleppo pepper. The Basque are also known for their wines, which can sometimes be hard to find as well. If you cannot find a Basque white wine, an adequate substitute is Picpoul de Pinet, a wine that comes from the neighboring French region of Languedoc. (I used that wine because it is more available and, as an added bonus, reasonably priced.)

When one prepares a dish like this, it transports them to a kitchen of a house in a small village in Soule. A dish that brings together local produce, a chicken from a nearby farm or market, some wine in the house, and herbs from the garden to produce a dish that would be the centerpiece of the family dinner. Basque cuisine features heavily local ingredients, influenced by French cuisine more than Spanish cuisine. It evolved over time, as evidenced by the tomatoes and peppers in the piperade. But, just as French cuisine has influenced Basque cuisine, the reverse is also true, as this particular dish is not just popular in Basque country, but in other areas of France as well. 

The exploration will continue, both in Basque country and elsewhere. Stay tuned....

POULET BASQUAISE

Recipe from Food & Wine

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 whole chicken, cut into 8 pieces
• Salt
• Pepper
• Pinch of cayenne pepper or piment d'Espelette
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 tablespoon butter
• 2 red bell peppers, thinly sliced
• 2 green bell peppers, thinly slice
• 1 onion, thinly sliced
• 1 can (16 ounces) Italian plum tomatoes
• 1/2 cup white wine
• 1 cup water
• 1/2 cub chicken bouillon or 1/2 cup light chicken broth or stock
• 3 sprigs of flat parsley, finely chopped
• Rice pilaf, for serving

Directions:

1. Prepare the chicken. Season the chicken all over with salt, pepper and the cayenne pepper. Heat the oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium high heat, about 2 minutes. When the oil is hot, add the butter. When the butter has melted and the foam has subsided, add the chickens, skin side down and brown on that side only, about 5 minutes. Remove the chicken and set aside on the plate. 

2. Saute the vegetables. Add the peppers and onion to the pot and reduce the heat to medium low. Cook for about 10 minutes, then add the tomatoes and cook until the liquid is reduced by half. Stir in the wine, scraping to get up the good stuff. Cook until the wine is reduced by half, then add the water and bouillon cube or broth. Return the chicken to the pot, making sure to add all the juices on the plate. Cover the pot and simmer on low heat for about 25 minutes. 

3. Finish the dish. Transfer the chicken to a platter. Crank up the heat to high and boil the sauce until it has thickened and reduced, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper and add the parsley. Pour the sauce over the chicken and serve with rice pilaf. 

PEACE.

Pintxos de Txampis

Basque cuisine gave us the "pintxos." Small plates adorned with tasty foods often served skewered with a toothpick, and served with bread, that could be found in most any tavern across northeastern Spain (also known as Basque country).

The history of these little dishes goes back more than 100 years, recounted well by Martin Buckley in a book called Basque Country and by a profile of the author and the book in the Independent. It was a time when food was scarce but comraderie was in abundant supply. Back in the 1920s, the social custom at the time was to drink outside of the house.  People would go from bar to bar,  socializing with their family and friends. By the 1940s, this practice of going from tavern to tavern with a group of friends, known as a kuadrilla, became well established. The kuadrilla is a closely-knit group formed of friends from early childhood. Its bonds are tightly formed over time, and often closed to outsiders, allowing those within the group to truly be themselves. 

Yet, as those kuadrillas moved from bar to bar, they did so during difficult times. With the Spanish Civil War, scarcity set in. While there was plenty to drink, food was scarce. As the kuadrillak drank glass after glass of wine (some of which was smuggled in from France), the tavern owners would place small plates of food on the bar. Those small plates are the origin of pintxos (which is Basque for "to pierce"), althought the name did not catch on until a couple of decades later. 

This particular pintxos is simple to make, although a little more difficult to plate. The combination of onions, shallots and garlic go well together (obviously), but they make a rather unstable base for the soft mushrooms. Fortunately, the toothpicks keep everything in place at least until they are eaten. As someone who enjoys Spanish tapas, as well as Basque pintxos generally, I think this is a start on a path to furhter exploration of these small plates.

PINTXOS DE TXAMPIS

Recipe from Sweet C

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 onion diced
• 1 shallot diced
• 2 garlic cloves, diced
• 1 cup dry white wine
• Flour
• 24 mushrooms, button or cremini, whole cap
• 1 baguette sliced into 12 slices

Directions: 

1.  Prepare the ingredients. Clean mushrooms by wipiong with a dry cloth or paper towel, discard stems. Dice onions, shallots, garlic. You can finely dice or rough chop.

2. Saute the onions, shallots and garlic. Add olive oil to a pan and heat on medium-high heat. Add onions and and shallots. Add onions and shallots to pan. Saute to soften, about 6 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking and over browning. When onions and shallots are soft, add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute. 

3. Cook the mushrooms. Sprinkle flour over ingredents, stir to combine well. Place mushroom caps in pan, add wine, stir to combine well and place lid on pan. Reduce heat to simmer and reduce the sauce until thick and the mushrooms cook and reduce in size, about 10 minutes. Stir to prevent sticking or burning and rotate mushrooms a few time while cooking. The sauce should thicken and the mushrooms soften, but they should not brown too much. 

4. Finish the dish. While the mushrooms cook down, slice baguette and drizzle with olive oil. Heat oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. Bake for 8-10 minutes, until light lightly browned and crispy. When the mushrooms are softened and the sauce has thickened, use toothpick to skewer two mushroom caps onto the bread. Sppon sauce over the top. 

PEACE.

Bergstrom Cumberland Reserve Pinot Noir (2020)

Bergstrom Winery is one of the premier vineyards and winemakers in Oregon's Willamette Valley. My beautiful Angel and I visited Bergstrom's tasting room during our honeymoon. We were both impressed by the Pinot Noir wines that were offered and we took home a few bottles to enjoy at a later time. Some of those wines have even made it to reviews on this blog, such as Bergstrom's Shea Vineyard Pinot Noir (2007), along with the 2007 vintage and 2009 vintage of its Cumberland Reserve.

The Cumberland Reserve is produced with grapes grown in the Willamette Valley AVA. The AVA - or American Viticultural Area - is the designation that has been given to the region by the Bureau of Alcohol and Firearms back in 1984. Since that time, the Willamette Valley AVA has been further divided into ten (10) sub-regions. These sub-regions include the Dundee Hills AVA, Chehalem Mountains AVA, and the Ribbon Ridge AVA. Bergstrom has five vineyards in these AVAs.

In recent years, I have been finding Bergstrom wines in stores near where I live. And, while these wines tend to be a little pricey (as do most really good Oregon Pinot Noir wines), I buy one every once in a while so I can remember what my beautiful Angel and I enjoyed when we were on our honeymoon. 

The most recent purchase was the 2020 vintage of the Cumberland Reserve, which makes this particular post a blogging hat trick following on the previous posts of the 2007 and 2009 vintages. 

The 2020 vintage came in a little darker and bolder than the previous vintages that I have tried. When first poured, the aroma was full of earthier elements, such as some slate and earth. Maybe this was due to the fires that plagued the region around harvest time. It does not matter to me, because I generally prefer Pinot Noirs on the earthier side, as opposed to the fruiter side. In any event, those aromas faded as the wine opened up. 

The slate carried over to the taste, and, the first sips even seemed to give a hint of smoke. Those hints soon faded, leaving a very good expression of dark fruit, such as blackberries and dark cherries. This darker profile was echoed by other reviewers, who noted elements such as dark tea, raspberries, and tarragon. The Bergstrom notes pegged this wine as a little brighter, with strawberry and raspberry candies, sandalwood and incense. I could see the last two, but the fruit elements were bolder as opposed to brighter. 

The 2020 vintage is sold out, but newer vintages are available. They generally sell for between $50 to $55 per bottle. They are definitely worth it. Until next time ... 

PEACE.

La Selva Sangiovese Bianco (2022)

Nearly twenty years ago, I spent a short time in Tuscany learning about, among other things, Tuscan wines. Much of that time was spent in the Chianti region, learning how vintners and winemakers turn the Sangiovese grape into some truly special Chianti Classico wines. I got to taste some amazing wines produced by Antinori and Frescobaldi. Some of those wines were produced with grapes solely from the Chianti Classico region, while others sourced Sangiovese grapes from around Tuscany. 

When I returned home, I began to explore other Sangiovese wines. Those efforts introduced me to wines like the Vino Nobile di Montepulciano (some of which, in my humble opinion, can rival the Chianti Classico wines), as well as other wines like the Rosso Di Montalcino and what are commonly referred to as the "Super Tuscans."

Yet, I never came across a Sangiovese wine other than a red wine. This makes a certain amount of sense, because the Sangiovese grape is a red grape. One would not ordinarily expect it to produce a white wine. I certainly did not have that expectation, until I came across a bottle of a Sangiovese Bianco in a local wine store. The wine was produced by Cantina La Selva, an organic vineyard in Tuscany.

Cantina La Selva began operating back in 1980 in Tuscany's Maremma region. That is the coastal region, with shorelines that meet the waves from the Ligurian Sea. Dotted along that coastline are cities, both large (such as Livorno) and small (like Baratti). A coastal region makes sense for a white wine, as that type of wine typically gets paired with seafood. Yet, as one travels inland, they would encounter hills and mountains, areas where vineyards and winemakers like Cantina La Selva can work their trade.

To produce a white wine from a red grape, Cantina La Selva begins by harvesting the Sangiovese grapes by hand in mid-September. They then press the grapes lightly, as that is what results in the white wine (generally speaking, if the grapes are pressed harder or left with the skins for a longer period of time, that results in a red wine). The resulting liquid goes through static cold fermenting and aging in stainless steel tanks. The wine ages for six months on the lees and conditioned in the bottle for only 3 months.

The Sangiovese Bianco pours a very light, transparent golden color, which takes on pinkish hues depending upon the light. The wine makers describe the aroma as including small berries and a hint of spiciness. Others describe elements of rose water, grapefruit and citrus zest. 

The small berries come through particularly on the palate, but I have to say that I also get faint hints of rose water. (That is a good thing because, as anyone who has worked with rose water as an ingredient can tell you, that ingredient is rather "loud."). The wine has a definite sweetness to it, but that sweetness is also balanced by a fair amount of acidity, providing a dryness that really works.

A bottle of the La Selva Sangiovese Blanco costs approximately $18.99 per bottle. It is worth the price, if only to try something different. 

PEACE.

Three Creeks Winery Petit Verdot (2018)

Every wine region has its particular grapes, blends, and wines that set it apart from every other wine region. When it comes to the State of Virginia, it may be safe to say that one particular grape sets it apart from other regions. The grape is the Petit Verdot. To be sure, Petit Verdot is grown around the world. What happens in Virginia is its own story. 

Petit Verdot -- translated as "little green" -- is a grape varietal that matures late in the growing season. As such, it is often used as a blending grape. The winemakers of Bordeaux rely upon the grape to add color, tannins and depth to their iconic blends. Few if any produce a single varietal wine that feature the grape. 

Like many grapes, Petit Verdot has made its way to other parts of the world, some close like Portugal, and others further way, such as  Chile, Argentina, Australia, Mexico and South Africa. In the United States, the grape is grown in ten States. As noted above, one of those States is Virginia. 

Virginia has become a place where there are multiple winemakers produce a single varietal wine that features the Petit Verdot grape. One such winemaker is Three Creeks Winery, which provides a Petit Verdot that, quite frankly, provides a robust red wine that stands out. 

This particular Petit Verdot is aged for nine months in new and neutral American Oak barrels. It pours a dark crimson red, with inky depths in the middle of the glass. There are aromatic elements of some very dark fruits, like plums, black cherries and blackberries. Much of those dark fruits carry over to the flavor of the wine. Plums and blackberries, with hints of vanilla and clove, greet the taste buds. 

The taste also includes other elements that one would expect from a Petit Verdot. One noticeable element is the tannins. There is also some earthiness that emerges from the wine as it sits in the glass and opens up. 

The Three Creeks Winery is a lovely place in Hamilton, Virginia. It is definitely worth the visit, not just for the scenery, but also this Petit Verdot wine. 

PEACE.

A Chef Bolek Fondue

Fondue originated in Switzerland, most likely in the Valais region through which the Rhone River flows in southern Switzerland. The tradition emerged as Swiss farm families gathered around a hearth over which they melted hardened cheese in a pot called a caquelon. The family members would then dip pieces of stale bread into the cheese, which softened the bread and made it easier to eat. It was a way for these poor farming families to make the most out of what little they had. 

Although originating as a cucina povera dish, fondue made its way into cookbooks, with the first known written recipe dating back to 1699. That recipe was published in a cookbook under the recipe name of Kass mit Wein zu Kochen or "to cook cheese with wine."  Fondue even made its way into the cookbooks for the Swiss military. Over time, the farm family tradition would be elevated beyond as a national dish of Switzerland (or so the Schweizerische Kaseunion - or Swiss Cheese Union - wanted everyone to believe because it would lead to the sale of more cheese).  And, as the dish spread across the world, it would take on new preparations and new ingredients.

Nothing says Switzerland like an "envelope" of Lipton's Onion Soup Mix.

Indeed, the passage of time gave rise to other versions of fondue. One popular one is fondue au chocolat, which involves dipping those food bites (usually bread, cheese or fruit) in a pot of melted chocolate. To be sure, my kids love chocolate fondue because they love anything that has a nice, chocolate coating. Another version is known as fondue bourguignonne, also known as beef fondue. The cheese or chocolate is replaced with hot oil, which is perfect for dipping bite sized pieces of your favorite protein or, on occasion, a vegetable or mushroom. 

Apparently, a guitar is required for fondue.

It is this latter version of fondue that became part of my family's New Year's Eve tradition. We would gather around a pot of hot oil, which was also encircled with dishes containing raw pieces of beef, chicken, sausage, mushrooms, broccoli and other foods. We pierced each bite and dipped it into the oil, becoming our own cook for a few minutes. Over the years, it became clear that dipping a bunch of things in hot peanut oil is not necessarily the healthiest way to ring in the New Year. So the tradition evolved to using vegetable broth, which cooked the food without the added consequence of clogging an artery. 

Fast forward to today, my beautiful Angel suggested that we have a fondue to ring in the new year. After clarifying that cheese and chocolate would not be involved, the Chef Bolek began to emerge. Rather than unhealthy oil or plain vegetable broth, what if I made a court bouillon for the fondue pot? A court bouillon is a flavorful liquid that is often used to poach proteins, such as fish or seafood. It would provide a healthy alternative in which I could control the ingredients and, by extension, the flavors. I quickly found a good court bouillon recipe as a starting point. Then my mind started thinking about the sauces. 

The tradition in my family, as is the tradition typically for a fondue bourguignonne, would be to serve about three to four sauces as part of the meal. These sauces typically included a Béarnaise sauce, a Bordelaise sauce, and, if I recall correctly, a horseradish sauce. However, I wanted to take those sauces to the next level. I wanted to serve sauces from around the world. So, for a Chef Bolek Fondue, I drew upon my experience and made the following sauces: 

Argentinian Chimichurri: I recently completed the Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge for Argentina, which had me prepare chimichurri in two different ways. I decided to prepare one of those chimichurris, because the garlicky sauce goes well with beef, chicken and vegetables.

Catalan Romesco Sauce: This sauce goes well with just about any food, with the smoked paprika, almonds and sherry vinegar providing different flavors for the meal. I borrowed from a recipe that I prepared more than ten years ago, but I will post a new one in the near future.  

Sri Lankan Lunu Miris: An extremely fiery sambol with three chiles and freshly ground black pepper from the cuisine that curries everything, which is why I love Sri Lankan food. This sauce is really just for me; it is too spicy for everyone else. I will post the recipe in the near future. 

Vietnamese Nuoc Cham: I have spent a lot of time this year learning about Vietnamese cuisine. I have become a huge fan of nuoc cham because of how it balances the different flavor elements. I used this recipe in which I paired the sauce with raw oysters in place of a mignonette. 

With these sauces, one has a fondue Chef Bolek style. The recipe for the court bouillon is set forth below. 

COURT BOUILLON

Recipe from Rouxbe

Ingredients:

• 5 cups cold water
• 1 cup white wine
• 2 ribs celery
• 1 leek (white part only)
• 1 small onion
• 1 lemon
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 teaspoon whole peppercorns (white or black)
• 2 teaspoons Kosher salt (or to taste)
• 1 sprig fresh parsley

Directions:

Place the cold water and wine in a pot. Slice the celery into 1/8 inch slices. Cut the leek in half, wash, and thinly slice the white part. Dice the onion and add everything to the liquid. Cut the lemon and squeeze the juice into the liquid (keep the seeds out of the liquid). Add the bay leaf, peppercorns and parsley and bring to a simmer. Once the liquid comes to a simmer, turn off the heat. Cover with a lid and let steep for about 30 minutes. Strain the liquid and transfer to the fondue pot.  

Once the court bouillon is prepared, then it can be used for a fondue, with the sides served alongside all of the cut meats and vegetables. 

PEACE.

Casanel Carmenere

The Romans most likely called it "biturica," but the French called it "Carmenere." It was one of the six noble grapes,  contributing flavors of dark berries and spice to the famous wine blends from Bordeaux. That was until 1867, when phylloxera wiped out most of the Carmenere vines.

After that devastation, Carmenere receded into history, as Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot and Malbec emerged as the predominant Bordeaux grapes for wine-making throughout the region. Carmenere's susceptibility to pests, as well as other difficulties (such as small grape clusters and inconsistent grape production) led winemakers to cultivate and rely upon the other varietals.

Yet, more than ten (10) years before the Carmenere disaster in France, another story began to be told. The story emerged nearly seven thousand (7,000) miles away from the Bordeaux vineyards ... in the valleys of Chile.

Chilean growers had brought Carmenere vines to their country in an effort to produce wines locally. The climate in Chile is well suited for Carmenere vines, which began to thrive. However, despite its resurgence, the Carmenere grapes were mistakenly referred to as Merlot grapes. It was not until the 1990s - more than 140 years later - that experts were able to reveal the grape's true identity. 

Since that time, Carmenere has emerged elsewhere around the world. One such place is within the Middleberg AVA (American Viticultural Area), where Casanel Vineyards & Winery produces an estate Carmenere. (In fact, Casanel is the first vineyard to successfully grow Carmenere on the east coast of the United States.)

My beautiful Angel and I visited the winery a while back, where I had a chance to try the Carmenere. I liked the wine so much that I decided to buy a bottle to take home.  

The Carmenere pours a crimson red or dark raspberry. The aromatic elements are more fruit forward than I expected. People often associate raspberries, plums and other dark fruit with a Carmenere and I think that provides an apt description of this wine's aroma.  I had thought that I would find some earthiness or pepper in the aroma, because one of the quintessential elements of a traditional Carmenere wine is spice or pepper.

That black pepper or green pepper element was not very pronounced in this wine. The more forward elements consisted of the dark fruit, such as those raspberries and plums. This is not a criticism, as some modern day Carmeneres have moved away from sharp peppercorn tastes of the classic wines. While I really liked this wine, I wish that I had experienced some more of the pepper notes, because that is one of the main reasons why I like Carmenere wines so much.

The wine is available from Casanel Vineyards, where it sells for about $55.00 a bottle. 

ENJOY!