When last I wrote about the Chinons of Fabrice Gasnier at any length, it was at such length (three long posts — not quite King Lear but close enough) that I've not returned, at least not in writing, at any significant length since. Fabrice's wines, nonetheless, have remained stalwart on my home table, finding a spot in regular, relaxed rotation, much akin to wines like those I wrote up last week: familiar, enjoyable and solid, even if not the most remarkable of their kind. Given that some subtle but meaningful changes have been afoot at the estate over the last year or two, I figured it's about time for an update, something I've been meaning to do for some time now.


Along with the new front label came an updated rear etiquette, displaying the realization of ambitions that Fabrice had hinted at when I last saw him back in 2004. He and his father had already farmed organically for many years, and Fabrice had begun conversion to biodynamic farming practices just a year or two prior to our visit. As you'll see, he's now gone whole hog, taking on the onus of bureaucratic responsibilities necessary to obtain and maintain both organic and biodynamic (Demeter) certification. It matters not to me — what's important is what's in the bottle, not what's on it — but I hope the step proves beneficial to the reception of his wines on his home and away markets.Original content published at McDuff's Food & Wine Trail. All work copyright David McDuff and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NC-ND Works 3.0 Unported License.
The second annual running of San Francisco Natural Wine Week kicks off tomorrow, August 23, 2010, with a bevy of events running through to its August 29 finale. I could tell you all about it but why, when Wolfgang Weber is doing such a smash-up job with the SF Natural Wine Week blog. Don't miss it if you're anywhere near the SF Bay Area this week. Whether you're the biggest natty wine geek on your block or just a flat out lover of honest vino, it looks like there'll be plenty of good juice flowing with great food dished up, to boot.
I'd love to put together something like this in Philly. Question though: is my fair city ready for it?
Original content published at McDuff's Food & Wine Trail. All work copyright David McDuff and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NC-ND Works 3.0 Unported License.
This weekend, several wine growers in Pupillin are opening their doors to the public in celebration of both their local specialty — Ploussard (aka, Poulsard) — and the 40th anniversary of Arbois Pupillin as an officially AOC-recognized sub-district of the Arbois.

Original content published at McDuff's Food & Wine Trail. All work copyright David McDuff and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NC-ND Works 3.0 Unported License.
There's been a rather long hiatus since the last episode of Name That Wine. Today seems like as good a day as any for a rekindling and, hopefully, a little fun for all. Just to make things a little more challenging, I've doubled the trouble. So bring it on: What've I been drinking?
And for extra credit: The Ps abound. Is there a connection?
Original content published at McDuff's Food & Wine Trail. All work copyright David McDuff and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NC-ND Works 3.0 Unported License.
As a general rule, I'm all for diversity when it comes to putting food on the daily table. After the better part of ten years as a strict vegetarian and another five as a vege-pescatarian, I've been an enthusiastic omnivore (some might say over-enthusiastic) for the last ten or so. I've been an equally enthusiastic culinary explorer, always willing and ready to try something new.
All of that said, there are certain dishes I'm happy to return to time and time again. That's especially true now, during my local growing and farmers market seasons. Just for instance, I'll happily eat blueberries every day when they're in season locally — and I've been doing just that, pretty much every morning, thanks to the folks at Blueberry Hill Farm, participants in my home farmers market. Same goes for the chicken pot pies from Lindenhof Farm; they may not be all that summery but they're delicious, easy for those nights when you're not up for actually preparing anything, and very wine friendly. The most recent addition to my regular rotation has been Birchrun Hills Farm bockwurst — mild yet intensely flavorful white sausages, a side project from one of my favorite local cheese producers. I wrote about them here not long ago, in the context of pairing them with a Cheverny Blanc from Thierry Puzelat. And I enjoyed them again just a few days ago — simmered in Guinness then finished on the grill, along with grilled onions and zucchini. This time I matched them up with...
Kammern Kamptal Grüner Veltliner "Heiligenstein," Weingut Hirsch 2006
$20. 12.5% alcohol. Stelvin. Importer: Michael Skurnik Wines, Syosset, NY.
There were some interesting parallels between Puzelat's Cheverny and Hirsch's Grüner Veltliner "Heiligenstein." Both showed slightly cheesy/yogurty aromatic character when first opened. In the case of the Puzelat, the lactic nose blew off; with the Hirsch it stayed. It's a trait that I've often found tends to appear when a white wine, particularly a higher-acid white wine, is beginning its downward spiral. I'd wondered, in fact, if I might not have forgotten this in my cellar for a year or so longer than ideal. That first sniff suggested that might have been the case. There was still plenty of life on the palate, though, where there was vibrancy in the acidity department along with a very appealing citrus-and-cream element — another similarity to the Cheverny, though this time it was lime rather than orange.
As borderline underwhelming as the wine was on its own, it was a completely different story when paired with dinner. One of those matches where the wine plus the food combined to give a heightened experience on the sum side of the equation. Subtle when served solo, in the presence of the sausages, dabbed with a little coarse ground German mustard, the wine really came alive. The acids electrified and danced, the fruit came out of hiding and that slight onset of cheese went into complete remission. So much for the wine being on the down slope; it just needed a willing partner to bring it back to full blossom.
The sausages may have come from Pennsylvania, the wine from Austria, but there's little question in my mind that this one goes down as a check in the column in favor of the success and importance of regionally inspired, traditional wine pairings.
Original content published at McDuff's Food & Wine Trail. All work copyright David McDuff and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NC-ND Works 3.0 Unported License.
After a professorial sabbatical spanning most of the summer months, I'll be back with a vengeance in September. Philadelphia's little treasure, Tria Fermentation School, has just rolled out their September schedule of classes and I'll be there on back-to-back days in the beginning of the month.
First up will be an event I expect to be as fun as its subject matter will be delicious — a seminar on the pleasures of, as my co-instructor Erin McLean of Tria has coined it, Frizzante and Formaggio. I'll be pouring a selection of Italian sparkling wines, each of which will be accompanied by Erin's choices from the world of Italian cheese. When: Thursday, September 2, 2010, from 6:30 to 8:00 PM.
Twenty-four hours later, I'll be back at the podium with an overview of the wines of France's Rhône Valley. You can count on a selection that showcases the diversity of the region, from white to rosé to red; from South to North; and from fun and funky to deep and serious. The date: Friday, September 3, 2010, from 6:30 to 8:00 PM.
The place:
Tria Fermentation School
1601 Walnut Street, Suite 620
Philadelphia, PA 19103
(215) 972-7076
As always, the seats in Tria's intimate classroom space go fast, so don't delay. Hope to see you there.
Update: Well, don't say I didn't warn you. As of Wednesday at 5:15 PM (less than two hours after the new schedule was announced), both classes are sold out. The folks at Tria do keep a waiting list and have even been know to add SRO seats if demand is high enough, so give 'em a call.
Original content published at McDuff's Food & Wine Trail. All work copyright David McDuff and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NC-ND Works 3.0 Unported License.
If you read enough wine blogs, especially at the more geeked-out end of the spectrum, or just here for that matter, it may sometimes seem as if there's a constant march forward, ever seeking out something more complex, something more obscure, more I-drank-it-first than yesterday's experience. There's no question that those pursuits do keep wine blogging fresh and help to keep the love of wine alive. But I also expect that the people doing all of that exploring and writing are still drinking simple wines, too, and continuing to find pleasure in them even if at a more quotidian, less rarefied level. I know that, for me, there are plenty of nights where I actually don't want something challenging or provocative, instead preferring to sit down with something simple, straightforward and just plain old easy drinking.
Saumur Champigny, Domaine Joulin (Philippe Joulin) 2008
$18. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Oslo Enterprise, Takoma Park, MD.
Sometimes that wine comes unexpectedly, in the form of something that's not familiar. I'd never had the Saumur Champigny rouge from Philippe Joulin so opened it on a night when I was up for anything. Something complex or challenging, something easy, maybe even something not so nice. This came out on the simple, straightforward point of the spectrum -- fresh, lively and supple; well balanced and direct. None of the gut, crunch or intense energy of, say, the Chinons of Bernard Baudry or the Bourgueils of Catherine and Pierre Breton; nowhere close to the depth and complexity of the Saumur Champigny's from Clos Rougeard, nor the richness of those from Thierry Germain. The only thing complicating this picture is the question of quality-to-price ratio. If this were three or four bucks less per bottle, there would be a good argument for slotting this into regular rotation for just the kind of nights I described above; at $18, though, it under delivers.
Barbera d'Asti, Roberto Ferraris 2009
$14. 14% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
At the totally expected end of the spectrum sits the Barbera d'Asti of Azienda Agricola Roberto Ferraris. I've been selling Roberto's wines for well nigh ten years and enjoying them for several longer, although oddly enough I've only written about them once before, for my guest contribution to the Barbera 2010 blog. Ferraris makes a couple of wines of ambition but the wines in his portfolio that I most enjoy drinking are his single vineyard "Nobbio" bottling and this, his Barbera d'Asti "normale." The 2009 just came ashore in the last few weeks and is already drinking great. Less dark, rich and jammy than the iterations from 2007 and 2008, the '09 epitomizes what I like most about good, straightforward expressions of Piemontese Barbera: it's juicy, snappy, full of blueberry and black cherry fruit, completely soft when it comes to tannic structure but alive and zingy on the palate thanks to Barbera's naturally high acid profile. Barbera also has natural tendencies toward giving high potential alcohol and, at 14%, this is indeed "stronger" than I normally like to go for everyday enjoyment. In this case, though, the 14% alcohol is completely balanced and integrated, showing up only via the pleasantly warm glow the wine delivers in the belly. Perfect Monday night pizza wine and, as long as we're talking QPR, a spot-on value at its price point.
Original content published at McDuff's Food & Wine Trail. All work copyright David McDuff and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NC-ND Works 3.0 Unported License.
It's been over for a little more than two weeks now but I'm still missing my daily dose of Le Tour de France. As my cycling crazy brother-in-law — who was up with my sis, niece and nephew for a visit this weekend — said, "This year's race was too short." I doubt if any of the racers would agree (aside perhaps from Andy Schleck who I'm sure would like to have had another couple of chances to recoup those lost seconds), but true fans, true lovers of the sport, are always left wanting more.
Aside from the excitement of the race itself, and this year's edition was nothing if not exciting, I always enjoy seeing the event pass through various parts of the French countryside. Some spots are very familiar — I still vividly remember Kirsten Gum's interview with Prince Philippe Poniatowski several years back when the route passed through Vouvray — while others are new discoveries.
One such spot that was a horizon opener to me this year was the Côtes du Vivarais, through which the Tour passed on Stage 12. I've never traveled through the Vivarais and have drunk wines from the region only on rare occasions, as little seems to make its way overseas. My daily coverage of the 2010 Tour provided the impetus to get to know the region a little better, and to taste something along the way.
Technically part of the Southern Rhône, though actually just as close to the southernmost reaches of the Northern Rhône, the Côtes du Vivarais is something of a nether region, forgotten in between its two more famous neighbors. The region is rugged and — judging from the photos I've seen and the footage of the Stage 12 climbs — sparely beautiful, defined by the range of old mountains that roll across the landscape as well as by the Gorges de l'Ardèche that traverse the area.
Original content published at McDuff's Food & Wine Trail. All work copyright David McDuff and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NC-ND Works 3.0 Unported License.
"I am here" (or at least I was a few nights ago). That's the chosen name, in its Latin form "adsum," for the new Queen Village/Southwark-based bistro owned and operated by Chef Matt Levin. The moniker seems not so much a statement of hubris as it is a conveyor of personal space. Levin has moved away, at least in part, from the intensive molecular gastronomy approach that earned him accolades during his stint as top chef at Lacroix, moving more toward, as he suggested in an interview with Meal Ticket earlier this year, food he'd actually take comfort in eating himself.
Beyond the obvious shift toward simplicity relative to the Lacroix days, Levin's new approach begs a simple question: does the food at Adsum actually deliver on the promise of comfort? Let's take a look.
Foie gras poutine
This dish would seem a sure hit on the comfort scale, in spite of the PETA-pounding, haute-cuisine knock up added by the fatted liver. The idea was right, and the combination clever, but the execution could use some work. Bordering on being both overcooked and under-seasoned, the duck-fat fries were tepid when delivered to the table. The rest of the elements — foie gras, cheese curds and gravy — were right on, though there wasn't quite enough gravy to go around.
Grilled rock octopus, black pepper caramel
This sounded much more unusual on paper than it was on the plate, as the "black pepper caramel" essentially boils down to being barbecue sauce — and very tasty, I might add. The octopus was cooked perfectly, ever so lightly crisped by the grill on the exterior but tender and just a wee bit snappy, not at all tough or chewy, at its core. The char from the grilling combined with the caramelized sauce to form a granular texture that didn't really bother me but was slightly off-putting to my dining companion.
Fried chicken, collards, ham hocks, hot sauce
Along with the FG poutine, the fried chicken seems destined to be the signature dish at Adsum. Philadelphia Inquirer food columnist Rick Nichols has already deemed it the best fried chicken in the city. While I can't say I've eaten my fried chicken way around town to the extent that Rick has, I can certainly see why he liked it so much; the chicken itself was drop dead delicious. The battered skin was ightly crisped and crunchy without being at all overbearing or greasy while the meat was juicy, moist and almost flaky in its delicacy.
More crumbly than flaky, the biscuit, a clear nod to the dish's southern origins (as if the chicken and collards weren't clear enough) was flavorful but too dry, needing either a dose of gravy or a more breakfast-oriented slathering of butter and jam to render it less palate parching. And the ham-hocked, hot-sauced collards? At first bite they were a revelation — surprisingly tender yet toothsome, highly caramelized yet still delivering the requisite kicks of vinegar and porky goodness. As the bites continued, however, the red pepper hot sauce driven heat built and built, eventually to the point that it was robbing the dish of its otherwise nuanced flavors.
Whole fish, shrimp salt, popped wild rice, green sauce
Popped rice – little more than a gimmicky distraction adorning the corner of the plate – aside, this was the most completely satisfying and well balanced dish of the night, helped along no doubt by the first appearance of any seasonal ingredients. Though the skin on our black bass could have benefited from just a bit more pan-crisping, the fish itself was moist, flavorful and cooked to a tee, with a welcome brightness provided by the tangy spice of the green sauce, a sort of guacamole/tomatillo salsa hybrid.


Original content published at McDuff's Food & Wine Trail. All work copyright David McDuff and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NC-ND Works 3.0 Unported License.
More on the lovely 2008 Régnié from Christian Ducroux and the horses that help(ed) make it happen. French fluency couldn't hurt but the video speaks for itself.
(Subscribers may need to click through to the blog to view.)
Original content published at McDuff's Food & Wine Trail. All work copyright David McDuff and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NC-ND Works 3.0 Unported License.
Man, do I miss me my Marcillac.
When I say "my," I mean the Marcillacs of Philippe Teulier at Domaine du Cros. I sold them for many a year but that was, likewise, many years ago now. It's not that they're not still available out there somewhere; it's just that I liked having them immediately at hand. The regular bottling from Domaine du Cros, called "Lo Sang del Païs," used to sell for around $10, even less, and was hands-down one of my favorite everyday wines. Still would be if it were still more easily obtainable, as it's still priced well under $15. There are other Marcillacs, certainly. Jean-Luc Matha's is plumper, easier, more accessible. And I hear tell of a Marcillac from Domaine Causse-Marines, but I've yet to see it, much less try it. But when I think of Marcillac, it'll always be the wines from Domaine du Cros that first come to mind.
Marcillac "Cuvée Vieilles Vignes," Domaine du Cros (Philippe Teulier) 2002
$16 on release. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Wine Traditions, Falls Church, VA.
The inspiration to open this bottle came easy. Stage 13 of the 2010 Tour de France began in Rodez, less than 25km from M. Teulier's estate, which is located just east of the village of Goutrens. Had I been covering that stage, this would have been my featured wine of the day, sans question; however, guest blogger Ben Wood was at the reins that day. Ben chose to focus on Gaillac, a perfectly appropriate choice given that the half-way point of the stage route passed quite close to Albi, center of the Gaillac region. Through happy coincidence, Ben wrote about Gaillacs from Domaine des Causse Marines, also a producer of Marcillac as mentioned above, and Domaine des Terrisses, whose wines happen to be brought into the US by the same importer — Wine Traditions — as Domaine du Cros.
Now, back to my Marcillac.... I had the pleasure of meeting Philippe Teulier, all too briefly, when he visited my workplace back in the early '00s. One of the questions I remember asking him about was his views on the age-worthiness of his wines. His simple answer: "Lo Sang del Païs" is best drunk young, in its first two-to-three years, though it might go five; the "Vieilles Vignes," on the other hand, comes into its own at five and has the capacity to last for ten years in good vintages.
Opening this bottle of '02 VV on the night of la trezième étape reminded me, in beautiful terms, of why I go to the trouble of cellaring wine. Still vibrant in color, its aromas have developed, since its more prickly, peppery youth, to something that is more closely evocative of an old school Médoc wine with some bottle age under its belt. There's something about this old Marcillac, though, that's much more enjoyable – and joyous – to drink than equally old Bordeaux. Maybe it's that component of blood and iron, expressions of both terroir and the aptly named Fer Servadou so inimitable to good Marcillac. While there's great bottle development here, there's also plenty of fruit – blackberry and cassis, in particular – and a vitality of structure that suggests the wine could easily go another couple of years without losing stride.
Alas, this was my last bottle of the 2002. Now I'm missing it even more....
Original content published at McDuff's Food & Wine Trail. All work copyright David McDuff and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NC-ND Works 3.0 Unported License.
There's a whole lotta mashing up going on around the craft beer globe these days. Brewers are teaming up in twos, threes and tens to ply their trade, flex their creative muscle, share techniques and no doubt learn a few things along the way. Sometimes its happening right around the corner, sometimes its bringing together brewers from oceans away.
One of the most active progenitors of this collaborative craze has to be Sam Calagione, founder, owner and head brew cheese at Delaware's Dogfish Head.
Now in its second year as a summer seasonal, Dogfish Head's "Namaste" was originally conceived in 2009 via a four-way, intercontinental team-up between Sam and his wife Mariah, Dogfish Head lead brewer Bryan Selders, and Leonardo DiVincenzo, owner of the central Italian craft brewery Birra del Borgo. There was an aspect of charitable giving in the mix, too. Part of the proceeds for the first-year sales of "Namaste" were donated to Armand Debelder of Drie Fonteinen, who lost about a third of a year's production of his lambics and gueuzes due to a thermostat malfunction in the storage area at 3 Fonteinen. In that first year, "Namaste" was available only on draft and only at the Dogfish Head brewpub in Rehoboth Beach, DE. This year, Sam, Mariah and Bryan brewed a bit more, enough to to pour on draft as well as to allow for a limited bottling in crown-sealed 750s.
"Namaste" is brewed in the tradition of Belgian white ales. Given the wheat, coriander and citrus elements in the mix, Hoegaarden would seem the most obvious point of comparison; "Namaste," however, is a touch rounder and broader in texture and also a tad darker in both its color and flavor profiles. Whether that's the result of the use of entire slices (dried) of orange rather than just the zest or whether it's just the Dogfish Head signature showing through I can't say. What I can say is that the brew is refreshing and very easy going down, a bit short on the finish but very tasty up front. At only 5% ABV, it's also quite light by the standards at Dogfish Head, a brewery best known for its over-the-top, hop monster and ancient recipe inspired creations. You can read more about it at the Dogfish website as well as on Sam's blog.
If the info on the DFH site is correct, "Namaste" may not be available outside of the state of Delaware. I enjoyed this bottle, shared over dinner with friends, at Wilmington's Domaine Hudson. Whether there's any still available there I don't know but, if not, there's plenty of other great stuff to choose from on the restaurant and wine bar's recently expanded and quite adventurous list of 120+ bottled beers.
Oh yeah, as for the title of today's post, I know it's not Sunday but, in homage to the crazy cats at Dogfish Head, so what? I drank this on Saturday and wrote about it on Monday, so Sunday it is. After all, it's my blog and I'll do what I want.
Original content published at McDuff's Food & Wine Trail. All work copyright David McDuff and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NC-ND Works 3.0 Unported License.
Those that visit here with some passing regularity may recall me occasionally pronouncing about the importance of not pronouncing about vintages. Sometimes, though, doing so is not only inescapable but can also serve a purpose more meaningful than selling magazines or over-simplifying the never ending process and deeper intricacies of trying to understand wine. So, with that in mind...
2008 was a difficult vintage in Beaujolais, with more rain and less sun than usual through much of the summer as well as hailstorms in late August. Many wines, even from top notch producers, show some of the effects of the growing season. The Fleurie "Clos de Roilette" from Coudert Père et Fils is a good deal more austere than usual, though still very fine. Georges and Jean-François Trichard, who produce lovely fruity-style Cru Beaujolais in more generous years (think 2005 and 2007) turned out leaner, tarter, less giving wines than usual in 2008.Régnié (Sans Soufre), Domaine Christian Ducroux 2008
$16. 12% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Fruit of the Vine, New York, NY.
Another producer whose wine, like that of Coudert, shows the challenging character of the vintage but is still delivering substance and pleasure is Christian Ducroux. His 2008 Régnié displays some stemmy, green aromatic traits but integrates those with lovely fruit vibrancy and focused structure. Its slight leanness is actually welcome this time of year, rendering it quite refreshing, and also quite at home at the table, providing the requisite cut and freshness for a dinner of roast salmon or grilled chicken thighs. Day two brought a slight loss of focus but a very pleasing development of textural richness and mineral concentration.
Original content published at McDuff's Food & Wine Trail. All work copyright David McDuff and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NC-ND Works 3.0 Unported License.
The latest edition of Bon Appetit (August 2010) includes a neat little feature on traveling to — and eating and drinking in — Piemonte. Included among its short list of eight highlights, I was very pleased to see two places that I visited on my most recent trip to the Langhe. The first of the two, staking down the second spot on the list, was Centro Storico, a place I'd like to see replicated, at least in spirit, in every town I have occasion to visit. It's that solid a recipe: great wine (and really great Champagne!), comforting food, no nonsense service and a friendly, makes-you-want-to-stay-there-all-day kind of vibe.
A big congrats to Alessio "Ciccio" Cighetti and his wife Stefania for the recognition in such a major mag. I barely recognized Alessio in the "sultry-style" photo in Bon App (besides which, it's not available in the online version), so I'll stick with my own shot, taken in situ back in May.Original content published at McDuff's Food & Wine Trail. All work copyright David McDuff and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NC-ND Works 3.0 Unported License.
SUBMIT BLOG
HOW IT WORKS
Scan your favorite wine blogs every day.
Search over 150 wine blogs
Click to visit the blog or browse all of the bloggers intros.
Wine bloggers reach new audiences and readers find new
wine blogs and keep up with their favorites.
Register
Link to WineWonks