Beware the Stacks!

It’s that time of year again, when we all find ourselves running into wine stores for a bottle on the way to a party. Inevitably, stacked on the ends of the aisle are ginormous displays, cases stacked on cases of wines. The signs promise red wine bursting with some luscious red fruit or another and white wine with what they swear is pleasing acidity. Unless the wine on display is one you have tasted before and like, my holiday advice to you is this: Step away from the stacks. In most wine stores, my friends, the really good wine is in the aisles, never stacked on the ends. Wine stacked on the end is what the employees are supposed to sell because it makes money for the store. If the employees are truly wine lovers, however, what they want to sell you is the non-descript bottle somewhere on the shelf that they drank the other night and thought was fantastic. Here is a short list of a few affordable wines I’ve tasted recently (none of them stacked at my place of employment) and enjoyed:
Artazuri Garnacha, Navarra Spain, $10-13:A great balance of cherry fruit with tannins that are soft enough to be enticing but dry enough to keep the wine from being fruity.
Araucano Pinot Noir, Chile, $12-15: A good, affordable Pinot is hard to find. I brought this one to Thanksgiving dinner and my family lapped it up. Lots of fruit with a little spice. Made by the French brothers Jacques & Francois Lurton who make wine in five different countries.
Domaine du Bel Air “Jour de Soif” Cabernet Franc, Loire Valley $13-16: Organically farmed, this light-bodied red hints at jammy fruit then quickly turns minerally and musty. A nice English Cheddar, or better yet a French sheep's milk cheese, would be a great pairing.
Domaine du Salvard Sauvignon Blanc & Chardonnay blend,Cheverny France, $12-15: Tangy, minerally and light. An elegant looking and tasting bottle.
Trapiche Malbec, Argentina, $7-10: Rich fruit with a little kick to it. Trapiche also makes a Cabernet and a Chardonnay, but I haven’t tried them yet.
Cuvee Jean Philippe Brut, Blanquet de Limoux, $11-13: If you’re like me and love Champagne but can only afford those expensive bottles once or twice a year, Jean Philippe will become your new best friend. The sparkling wine is from the somewhat obscure appellation of Limoux in southern France and made with the even more obscure grape, Mauzac, with a little Chardonnay and Chenin Blanc blended in. The people in Limoux (Limouxians?) claim to have started putting wines through a second fermentation in the bottle to create bubbles long before the region of Champagne ever started doing it. Who knows if this is true - all I know for sure is this bubbly is cheap and good, with a rich texture and yeasty,green apple flavor.

Red Wine Headaches

Whenever I get a headache from drinking wine, I have no one to blame but myself. The equation is simple:
One or two (or three) glasses too many = pounding head.

For me, avoiding the headache is simply a matter of self-control. Not so, however, for countless unlucky wine lovers who seem to get a headache just by looking at a bottle of wine. Red wine takes all the blame, but why?
Many consumers mistakenly place the blame on sulfites. Sulfur dioxide is a naturally occurring substance in wine, produced during fermentation. Most winemakers also add additional sulfites to prevent oxidation, which affects wine’s flavor and stability. There is no such thing as sulfite free wine, but there is a growing market for wine with no additional sulfites added. I haven’t tried too many, but one I can recommend is Casa Barranca’s Arts and Crafts Red. What you’ll get from a bottle of Arts and Crafts Red is a delicious wine, but not one that will cure your headache woes. Unless you are an asthmatic or have a severe allergy to sulfites, there are really no studies out there linking sulfites with headaches.
When I was in culinary school the wine instructor blamed headaches on histamines, and said a sure way to avoid a headache was by popping an anti-histamine like Benadryl before you went to bed after a night of drinking. Many foods contain more histamine than wine, but alcohol can exacerbate the effects of histamine in the system.The Oxford Companion to Wine,a hefty 800-page wine bible, also brings up the matter of histamines, although wisely points out (unlike my wine instructor) that taking an anti-histamine is not recommended when you’re drinking, so you’re better off drinking wines with low histamines levels. Histamines are found in the skins of grapes. Red wine contains more histamines because in order to color the juice red, the wine must soak with the dark colored grape skins.
The Oxford Companion also blames phenolics, which “liberate the chemical messenger 5-hydroxytryptamine (serotonin) which plays a part in the initiation of migraine.” Phenolics are chemical compounds found in the juice and pulp of grapes, and in much higher levels in grape stems, seeds and skins. For red wine, it’s a double phenolic whammy: phenolics are more abundant in dark-skinned grapes to start with, and then the wine picks up even more phenolics when the juice is soaking with the dark grape skins to add color. While the phenols may give you a headache, they are also the reason red wine is so heart healthy and packed with antioxidants.
This week, a study was released by a group of chemists who have nominated “several culprits for ‘red wine headache,’ including biogenic amines like tyramine and histamine.” Their studies are not entirely conclusive, but they warn headache sufferers to stay away from pretty much everything that makes my life worth living: wine, sake, chocolate, cheese, olives, nuts and cured meats. All of these things contain high levels of amines.
But there is hope. Kind of. The chemists have created a device that can determine amine levels in about five minutes. The device currently only works with liquids (so you can’t test that wedge of cheese) and is about the size of a briefcase. A smaller, hand-held version is being developed, and researchers say you could “take it to a restaurant and test your favorite wines.” But I can tell you that no server in their right mind will open a bottle of wine so a diner can test out their hand-held amine detector. And if the wine has too many amines, what are you going to do, send it back? Perhaps more realistically, the scientists also say the device could be used to test wine before it is bottled, and the amine level could be listed on the label.
Ultimately, I don’t know how useful this study is. But I do love that food and wine has become a topic of discussion in the otherwise dull-sounding “Journal of Analytical Chemistry,” where this study was published. And I don’t think headache sufferers should despair. There’s an exciting and delicious world of low-amine beer and white wine out there just waiting to be discovered!

Location, Location, Location

This week at work I tasted three Napa Valley Cabernets, all three costing between $20.00 - $30.00, and all three were wines that I did not feel the least bit bad about spewing into the spit bucket.
If I got on a plane, I could be in Napa Valley in just over an hour. The French wine I am drinking right now is half the cost and twice as good. How, I ask, is it possible for a guy in France to grow grapes, harvest them, turn them into wine, buy a bottle, buy a label to put on the bottle, buy a cork to seal the bottle, ship it across the world, and then still have that bottle show up on a shelf at a retail cost of $16.00? Why can’t our friends up in Napa do that?
Real estate, baby.
Livin’ in Napa ain’t cheap, whether you’re a person or a grape.That guy in France is probably pulling his grapes from a vineyard that is sitting on land that was paid off a hundred years ago or so. His land is less costly to own, therefore his grapes are less costly to grow, therefore you can buy his wine for $16.00. Not so for a winemaker in Napa.
It’s a simple and obvious fact that the cost of grapes is one of the things that affects the cost of wine, but one that consumers often forget about in the wine aisle. Sometimes you are paying for an address, and that’s it. Drinking those Napa Cabs this week was like living in Manhattan in a crappy little shoebox studio apartment. Sure, you live in Manhattan. But some guy living in the far outskirts of Brooklyn probably has a much nicer apartment, for a quarter of the rent. When you’re apartment or house shopping, it pays to venture into lesser known neighborhoods; likewise, when you’re shopping for wine, the real bargains are usually from regions that are a little less hyped up. The $16.00 wine I'm drinking tonight is French, but is it from from Bordeaux or Burgundy? Nope, it’s from the much lesser known region of Anjou.
In the states, that same theory applies. In my opinion, if you venture out of Napa Valley, the odds of finding a wine that is both affordable and delicious go up. According to my buddies at Wine Press Northwest,Cabernet Sauvignon grapes in the Napa Valley cost upwards of $2,266 per ton. Roughly speaking, one ton of grapes makes around 700-750 bottles of wine. That puts the cost of the juice itself at less than $4.00. But then factor in labor and rent and supplies and the general cost of doing business in an area like the Napa Valley, and charging $20.00 for a bottle of wine doesn't put a lot of money back in the winemaker's pocket. Winemakers in regions like Napa simply have to charge more for their wine to survive. In comparison, if a winemaker in Washington State wants to buy Cabernet grapes, Wine Press says it will cost them only about $1,261 per ton. In Sonoma County, Pinot Noir grapes cost $2,507 per ton. In Oregon, on average, it costs around $2,130. Now, Pinot Noir grapes from Washington State cost a measly $910 per ton, but this doesn't mean you should run out and stock up on Washington Pinots (if you’re actually able to find any). Washington has a hard time growing a good Pinot grape, so buying a bottle of Washington Pinot is likely to be more of a mistake than a bargain. Like all purchases, educate yourself first and if a deal seems too good to be true, it usually is.
Continue to buy Napa Valley wines: there are some truly delicious wines made in Northern California that don’t cost an arm and a leg.(Joel Gott is one to check out) But in comparison, wines from the Northwest often give you more for your dollar. This might not be the case for much longer. So get in, while the gettin’s good.

The Fungus Among Us

It was with much disappointment that I realized I’d missed one of those great geek-meets-food events I've come to depend on Seattle for. No, it was not a Cheese Festival this time around; this time it was a (insert drum roll). . .
Wild Mushroom Show!
Each Fall, the Puget Sound Mycological Society hunts down more than 200 varieties of mushrooms within 150 miles of Seattle and puts them on display. The show features a “Feel and Smell” area, a black-light room for UV-sensitive mushrooms, microscopes to view the reproductive cells of spores, and an identification table where you can bring in specimens to see if they’ll make a great meal, or kill you. (Speaking of which, there are also chef demonstrations throughout the day).
I penciled next year’s mushroom show on my calendar, and then trotted down to my grocery store to create a mini-mushroom show of my own. I came back with three fresh mushrooms I’d never cooked with before: the Lobster ($39.99/lb), the Wood Ear ($4.99/lb) and the Porcini ($29.99/lb). You can, of course, also buy dried mushrooms that spring back to life with a soak in a hot liquid, but they aren’t inexpensive and always look like dried leaves to me. (I've worked in many gourmet stores where the dried mushrooms arrive in giant plastic bags, and it makes you wonder what warehouse they’ve been sitting in gathering dust for the last few years.)
As I cooked my fresh specimens, they each revealed distinctly different characteristics. In a hot pan with olive oil, the Wood Ear made a fantastic crackling and high-pitched hissing noise that sounded just like a campfire. Unfortunately, it tasted like biting into wood, too. Commonly used in Asian Cuisine, this is a ‘shroom that performs much better in a soup, to give it flavor and texture.
The Lobster Mushroom is a beauty, and technically, more of a wannabe than a “real” mushroom. The reddish color is actually a seperate fungus that grows on top of unsuspecting mushrooms and basically swallows them whole, known unofficially as “Mycological Cannabalism”. The two fungi become one, and the resulting flavor is mild and slightly nutty with a heavy, meaty texture. I assumed the name "Lobster Mushroom" came from its reddish color, but when The Husband came home while I was sautéing it, the first thing he said was, “It smells like fish in here!” So, there you go.
My favorite by far was the Porcini. It has a definite woodsy aroma and taste. A little sea salt heightens its delicious, earthy flavor. I can imagine it as the star of a pasta dish, or next to red meat or asparagus.
With all this talk of fancy mushrooms, however, let’s not forget the real work horse and everybody’s friend, The Button. Button mushrooms are a regular in my kitchen, and play a starring role next to(gasp!)canned mushrooms in one of my favorite old-school recipes from my Mom’s recipe box. Trust me on this one. The ingredients will make you skeptical, but I have yet to meet anyone who didn’t love this stuffing served next to salmon. As with most recipes handed down from Mom, the amounts are approximate, which is half the fun of cooking.
Mary’s Mushroom Stuffing with Salmon
1 cup or so of chicken broth
¼ cup minced celery
¼ cup minced onion
1 3oz can mushrooms
A few handfuls sliced button mushrooms
1-2 Tablespoons minced parsley
2-3 Tablespoons minced dill
A few shakes of poultry seasoning (found in most grocery stores)
2 cups coarsely crushed Saltine Crackers
Drain canned mushrooms. Keep the juice and mix with chicken broth. In a bowl, pour over crushed crackers. Sauté celery and onion in butter until golden. Add canned and fresh mushrooms and cook until browned. Add herbs, poultry seasoning, and crackers with broth. Place stuffing around salmon. Bake at 350 until salmon is done. Garnish with sliced lemon and fresh dill.

Defining Chocolate

There was a time not so long ago when there was always a bag of chocolate chips in my cupboard. At night I’d dole out however many I needed (because chocolate is a need, not a want). I would then line the chocolate chips up in a perfect row and eat them one by one. The Husband became accustomed to finding rows of chocolate chips around the apartment, which he generously said was endearing instead of pointing out that it was the obvious sign of an addict. I have since moved on to a chocolate bar phase, always dark chocolate, usually without nuts, although sometimes accompanied by a spoonful of peanut butter. So you will understand why, when I came across a website called “Don’t Mess With Our Chocolate” that I could immediately relate. The website is run by Guittard, and is one of many bringing attention to a potential change in the Food and Drug Administration’s “standard of identity” for chocolate. The change, backed by various food industry groups, would allow manufacturers to replace up to 100% of the cocoa butter in chocolate with inexpensive vegetable oil and use milk whey instead of whole milk, and still call their product chocolate. Currently, in products with the word “chocolate” on the label, the addition of vegetable fats other than cocoa butter can’t exceed 5% of the finished product. Insisting that manufacturers use real cocoa butter instead of inferior ingredients protects the flavor and texture of real chocolate. It also protects you from having to read the fine print on a chocolate bar to make sure you’re getting the real thing, not some watered down version of chocolate filled with ingredients you don’t want to be eating. For manufacturers backing the change in chocolate standards, it’s all about money. It’s cheaper for them not to use real cocoa butter. It’s not just “gourmet” chocolate makers that are against the proposal; even Mars, which makes M&M’s, Snickers, Three Musketeers and Twix, just announced last month that they are opposed to diluting the definition of chocolate. The battles been waging all year and it’s still unclear when the FDA will make a decision, but it’s never too late to let your voice be heard.

Milking It

I have to admit the first time I bought Straus Family Creamery half and half, it was the cute factor that got me. Who can resist a tiny glass milk bottle with a picture of a little cow on the front? Pouring cream into my coffee from a bottle like this one just makes me feel good, and it also makes me feel nostalgic; for what, I don’t know, since I’ve never lived on a farm and grew up in an era when the Milk Man left plastic jugs that didn’t have the satisfying clink of glass bottles. But charm isn’t the only thing glass bottles have going for them. Glass is easier on the environment than plastic or paper cartons. The bottles can be recycled, or, if you buy a brand like Straus, return it to the store and it will be returned to the creamery, sterilized, and re-used. Glass does not impart any flavor into the milk, like a plastic bottle might, and glass stays cold longer than a paper carton does, which keeps your milk colder and fresher when it’s traveling between the store and your home (or sitting out on the counter). It is true that light causes a chemical reaction in milk that diminishes some flavor and nutrients, but I’ve decided to file this information in the “life’s too short to be worried about everything” category. Maybe milk in glass bottles loses a few vitamins, but I like to think that the milk from Straus Creamery (a family-owned company with completely organic practices) has more nutrients to begin with; if it loses a few, its still healthier than most of the milk out there from god-only-knows-where. Parents who are buying glass bottles for themselves are also buying glass baby bottles for the wee ones. Increased sales in glass baby bottles can be traced to alarming (but still potentially unfounded) fears that hard plastic baby bottles release the chemical bisphenol into milk. It wasn’t this complicated in the good ol’ days. My Mom remembers being a kid on the farm and squirting milk directly from the cow into her mouth. She swears that no cream she’s had since has been as good. As much as I love Straus Family Creamery’s half and half, I have to say that my Mom probably has a point.

Viva La France

Two days ago I returned from an eleven day vacation in the South of France, where The Husband and I drove our little rented Citroën through the winding cliffs of Cote d’Azur and the tree-lined roads of Provence. The last time I was in France was ten years ago and my impression then was the same as it was this time: There’s something great about being in a country where non-fat milk doesn’t exist, smoking is still acceptable, wine flows like water, and a bakery is on every corner. What really hit me this time, however, was not how far ahead the French are, gastronomically speaking, but how far we’ve come. An overwhelming amount of the same brands of products lining the shelves of food stores in France are readily available here in the States (salts, butters, cheeses, chocolates, oils, etc). I thought I’d come back with a suitcase full of culinary finds, but it was silly to pack food back from France that I can just buy at the gourmet market here in the States. The beauty of France, however, is that there aren’t “gourmet” markets, there are just markets. What we consider “gourmet” food is seamlessly integrated into their daily eating habits. In the medieval hill town of Castillon du Gard, The Husband and I wandered into a tiny store that was essentially a neighborhood mini-mart, but in addition to toilet paper and potato chips and canned soup, there was also a selection of local produce, handmade cheeses, and these delicious little Kalamata olive crackers.
Thankfully, there are more and more store owners in the U.S. that are getting the hang of this idea, which is not at all a new one, not even in the States. It is, essentially, the return of the corner grocer, or, if you will, a re-imagined version of a 7-11 convenience store. The growing wave of convenience stores on the West Coast all share the same traits: They are small, locally owned, and most importantly, located in the heart of a residential neighborhood. They lack the snobbery that a strictly gourmet store can have, and unlike the 7-11 stores we all grew up with, they sell real food, not just junk food. These stores are not afraid to sell Saltine Crackers and toilet paper next to Italian Olive oil and brie.
At Robin’s Nest in Los Angeles you can buy kitty litter and Heinz baked beans as well as Mushroom Truffle Risotto puffs and a divine cappuccino. At The Icebox in Seattle, residents of the Queen Anne neighborhood can stroll in for fresh herbs and wine or a gallon of milk and a box of cereal. In Spokane, WA, Rocket Market is a gas station convenience store that has grown into a "small market of epic proportions." In addition to gas, Rocket Market offers a stellar selection of wine, artisan cheeses, and fresh baked desserts.
Like the French, these little stores have figured out that good food can and should be sold at the same place where you pump gas and buy a bar of soap. In an ideal world, there should be a pleasant little store close to your home where you can pop in on a Saturday night for a bottle of excellent wine and the dog food you just realized you ran out of. Food magazines will be telling you next year what I'm telling you now: In 2008 fancy-pants gourmet stores will be out and the new breed of neighborhood convenience stores will be in.