Somm's Table

Photo credit: Greg Hudson

Malbec’s story is a rags to riches story. An immigrant story. It is the story of a grape traveling from its homeland to the New World, getting a makeover, striking it rich, then heading back home with its spiffy new look. Except that it also never really left home in the first place.

Malbec became popular as the juicy, spicy, rich wine from Argentina; however, its story goes much farther back. It originally comes from South West France, specifically from Cahors where it is has been grown since the thirteenth century. Here it is THE grape. You can find smatterings of it elsewhere in France–it’s one of the five red grapes of Bordeaux (although a fairly minor player) and you can also find a little bit out of the Loire, as well as a blending grape in other areas of the South West. That said Cahors is the only place in France where Malbec (also known as Côt) gets top billing–it must make up at least 70% of the blend, although it can be combined with Merlot and Tannat. Malbec from Cahors tends to taste quite different from the super ripe versions from Argentina–it’s often more rustic, with more herbal and meaty/gamey notes.

In a way, it’s not surprising that it had to move away from home to make a name for itself. Cahors is landlocked and the Bordelais, who historically controlled the nearest port of trade, would impose heavy taxes on wines from other nearby regions, keeping the little guys down. They were not, however, above blending the “black wines of Cahors” into their own BDX juice to ramp up the intensity.

So Malbec made its way to the New World, most likely brought over by immigrants moving from Europe. It laid low there for a while as a workhorse grape, making low cost bulk wines by the truckful for Argentinians to drink, not yet ready to make its debut on the world stage. (I mean “truckful” quite literally–it was transported by trucks, not at all well protected, where it would oxidize en route.)

Then the Catena family met Paul Hobbs in 1988 (or thereabouts.) Cue the makeover montage. The Catenas were longtime winegrowers in Mendoza, but Nicolás Catena wanted to take the wines to next level and create wines of international caliber. The Catenas eventually brought in Paul Hobbs as a consultant to help achieve these goals in 1989. Nicolás Catena actually initially wanted to abandon Malbec in favor or Cab and Chardonnay–fun fact, Paul Hobbs convinced them not to. Together they set Malbec on the path to its Cinderella story and the Catenas are still one of the benchmark producers of Argentine Malbec today. (As is Paul Hobbs, for that matter, with his Viña Cobos wines.)

Now it is time for our hero-grape to return home; but of course it’s been there all along. Of course the winemakers of Cahors have been noticing the popularity Malbec from Argentina has been enjoying and they’ve been taking notes.

Once a month I get together with other wine geeks as part of a bottle share–we pick a theme for the month and everyone brings a bottle on the theme to taste and discuss. It’s a great way to keep learning and it’s always a lot of fun. For a recent meeting we decided to tackle the idea of “Bargain Burgundy”–if such a thing even exists. We actually found quite a few gems, but Chablis particularly stood out as an area where one can still find bang for the buck in a region that generally tends to be pretty pricey.

Chablis stands apart from the rest of Burgundy both in terms of geography and style. It’s further north than the rest of Burgundy’s wine growing areas and their winemaking style tends to reflect the more austere conditions. It gets pretty steely with lots of crisp, lip-puckering citrus notes and tons of minerality.

My answer to those who don’t like Chardonnay for the oak and butter notes it’s often associated with is usually, ‘But have you tried Chablis?”

On the evening of this bottle share, the 2014 Jean-Marc Brocard Chablis Sainte Claire especially grabbed my attention. We happened to have two bottles from Jean-Marc Brocard in the lineup–the Saint Claire that retails in the low $20’s range, as well as a pricier Premier Cru cuvée. The Premier Cru showed more complexity, as might be expected, but I was really charmed by the Saint Claire and even more impressed by the degree of complexity it delivered at such a reasonable price point.

I soon got my hands on another bottle–this time 2015–to cook to. I sat down with Greg (my husband and the photographer for these pics) to taste the wine and plan our dinner. The wine had bright lemon notes, gold and green apples, a hint of cream, light herbs, and salty sea minerals. It had a round mouthfeel with a sense of richness, but with a clean, chalky finish.

I knew I wanted seafood with this wine–pretty classic for Chablis. (Oysters and Chablis are a famous pairing duo.) However, that richness made us crave something a little more opulent than a simple, clean seafood dish. There was a hint of Parmesan rind on the palate that was leading us to want to add some cheese to the mix. Greg thought back to the famous clam pizzas we had on a trip to New Haven and gave us the inspiration for this dish.

A little luxuriousness seemed in order, but I also wanted to keep the prep pretty simple. The clams are cooked in a pretty classic style, with lots of lemon and some shallots and garlic, and then they’re chopped up to top the pizza. I know handling clams can initially seem a little intimidating, but they're actually pretty easy to work with. If you've never cleaned clams, the.kitchn.com has a good guide to lead you through it. (Next time I think I’ll make a double-batch and have half with bread or pasta the first night, and save the leftovers to make this pizza the next night.)

To save time, I made use of store-bought pizza dough–I was really happy with Whole Food’s version. That said, if you have a favorite recipe, certainly feel free to use it. I gave the dough a short blast in the oven on its own to crisp it up and help it stand up to all the liquid in the rest of the ingredients.

Burrata’s silky creaminess added that luxurious note I was looking for. Buffalo mozzarella would definitely work here as well, and even standard mozzarella will do in a pinch. Given the herbal notes in the wine, I thought there was room for a little something green as well, so I added some marinated artichokes and finished it off with some parsley and a couple handfuls of arugula just before serving.

We have been dreaming of this pizza since that night. It absolutely sung with wine and vice versa. As we’d hoped, the wine held up to the creamy cheese really well. The minerality in the wine was reflected in the food and the citrus in both really came out and kept out and kept everything refreshing.

Consider this our version of Page 6. Whether through business, friends, or an average night at home, we get to try a lot of wine. Here, we’ll share little taste of standout pairing experiences from the many tables we dine at. Please share yours as well.

Apologies for going radio silent for a bit there. All good things though! I started working part time at the excellent and highly respected Bay Grape–a fantastic little wine store and community space in Oakland. Everyone on staff is really knowledgeable and very friendly. The spot has the perfect combo of wine geekery and chill vibes. (You can read more about it here.) Things got busy as I settled into a new schedule, but I’m sure it’s only going to lead to more fabulous wine discoveries.

But now back to wine pairings! With Memorial Day right around the corner, I’m going to dedicate today’s post to some warm weather sips.

Way back in August of last year, I had the chance to go on a press trip to Napa to learn about all the wonderful work being done by Napa Green–a comprehensive environmental certification program focusing on environmental stewardship and holistic management practices. It was also a great chance to sample some beautiful wines alongside some fantastic dishes. A lot of these feasts fell into the camp of warm weather fare, which is happily more and more apropos again. I thought I’d look back at a couple of pairings.

First up was the Phifer Pavitt Date Night Sauvignon Blanc Napa Valley 2013 paired with a crab salad with melon gazpacho, cherry tomatoes, and shiso. I don’t like melons. Of course the dish was beautifully prepared, but it doesn’t change the fact I don’t really like melons. This stood out to me because the pairing really made a dish that I might have been biased against very enjoyable and the combination was delicious. The wine was fresh and citrusy, but also had rounder stone fruit and tropical pineapples notes which matched the textures and flavors in the dish beautifully.

Phifer Pavitt Date Night Sauvignon Blanc Napa Valley 2013

Another wonderful tasting memory from this trip was the lovely Rosé of Pinot Noir Anderson Valley 2015 by Long Meadow Ranch sampled at their Farmstead restaurant (which was fantastic!) alongside a platter of warm burrata with whole roasted garlic, estate olive oil and grilled bread. There’s something so beautiful about the simple, refreshing pleasure of a good rosé. The wine and the food worked wonderfully together and kind of made me feel like I was in the south of France–and a summer in evening in the Napa Valley is pretty spectacular in it’s own right.

I didn't get a picture, but this was paired with the Long Meadow Ranch Rosé of Pinot Noir Anderson Valley 2015.

Now that we’ve been given the gift of (mostly) warm sunny days again, I decided to channel the feeling I got while sipping that rosé in Napa and bring Provence home to me. I put together a beautiful, simple dinner of chicken and roasted veggies and served it with a homemade aioli–which is très Provençal. (Picture up top.) I used this quickie recipe from SeriousEats.com, which made aioli 100% doable on a weeknight. Bonus–I then I had lovely aioli to use on lots of other dishes for the next couple of weeks.

I paired it with a VieVité Cotes de Provence Rose Rosé 2016. Full disclosure, VieVité sent me this bottle as a sample, but I’ve been familiar with and enjoying their wines for a few years now. The wine had notes of fresh strawberries and watermelon rind, white flowers and fresh herbs, with hint of stone fruit giving a rounded softness to the mouthfeel, and a little bit of saline on the finish. Altogether, I felt transported to St. Tropez for the evening–we were only missing the sea breezes.

VieVité Cotes de Provence Rosé 2016

Have you encountered a magical match at a recent meal? Send them our way and we’ll share them here.

We’ve been building this site for a while and I have to admit that I’ve been stockpiling pairings to share, so the first few might be a little longer than usual. What can I say? I'm excited.

Spring is here! The flowers are blooming, but it's also that strange time of year where the weather keeps swinging between hot and cold. For this round, I thought I’d share a few chilly weather pairings before the weather totally shifts to warmer days. (Please hurry up!)

I’ll start with a couple of great pairings I had on a trip to Chicago in the fall. Both of these wines happen to be from the south of France. I am really partial to GSM’s to begin with, but these just served as a great reminder of how well these wines work with rustic, gamey fare. Neither is particularly expensive either, going to show that you don’t have to spend much to have a fantastic pairing. I apologize in advance that I forgot to note the vintage on both of these.

The first was a biodynamic Mourvèdre from Chateau La Roque from Pic Saint Loup in the Languedoc (more info here). Greg (my husband) and I had this with the decadent cassoulet at Maude’s Liqour Bar in the West Loop. The wine took a little while to open up–I would definitely recommend decanting–but once it did, it paired wonderfully with the food. The match once again proved the “if it grows together, it goes together” rule, as cassoulet also originated in the Languedoc.

The next funktastic match also happens to be a natural wine. We had the Château Terre Fort Côtes du Rhône Rouge! (More info here.) It was fun, fresh and easy drinking and went fantastically with a beautiful quail dish (at top) and the silkiest plate of sweetbreads ever at beautiful El Che Bar, also in the West Loop.

One more match up from an event back at home. Every month I attend a bottle share where everyone brings a bottle on a theme to share. One recent event happened to be a potluck where everyone was also asked to bring a dish to share, as well as a Northern Italian bottling–the theme of the month. My friend Josh brought a Merlot-Cab Blend. Not all that unusual, right? This bottle of Vignalta Arqua Colli Euganei Rosso 2010 comes from a region in the Veneto rich in volcanic soils not far from Padua. (More on Colli Euganei.) This region was all new to me and certainly had a terroir signature which made these old hat varietals new again. Beyond that, Josh is a very good cook and when he was thinking of what to bring to this potluck, he considered that the region is really not all that far from the Austrian border. A light bulb went off and he decided on goulash as the pairing. It was a really fantastic combo! It was dark so I do not have a good picture to share of the food itself, however, he was nice enough to send me a link to the recipe.

Have you encountered a magical match at a recent meal? Send them our way and we’ll share them here.

Sometimes you just want your wine and food to comfort and take care of you like a warm blanket. You want a meal you can just cozy up with on the couch, completely bypassing the table.

I was looking for that little extra TLC around the middle of November of last year (2016) . . . and many times since then, if I’m being honest. I wanted a good wine and a big bowl of pasta.

On this particular evening, I pulled a Fattoria del Cerro Vino Nobile di Montepulciano 2011 off the shelf. Since I knew I wanted pasta with some kind of tomato sauce, I figured a Sangiovese based wine would be a good bet as Sangio pairs particularly well with tomatoes.

Vino Nobile di Montepulciano is a classic Tuscan wine, although it’s perhaps less well known than its neighbors Chianti and the revered Brunello di Montalcino. The grapes are grown on the hillsides of Montepulciano, which is southeast of Siena in Tuscany. Wines have been made in the area since Etruscan times–the estate this particular wine came from was established in 1922.

The wine was on darker, spicier end of the Sangio spectrum, with dark brooding cherries and plums. It had notes of tobacco, licorice, and exotic spices. There were some savory umami notes, it was a touch sanguine, and had light herbal notes. This wine was already five years old, but the fruit still tasted pretty young and fresh. It was drinking beautifully and showing a good degree of complexity.

I didn’t want to give things too much thought on this particular evening, but since this Vino Nobile was on the richer side I decided to take my pasta sauce in a similar direction. If the wine had been lighter and brighter I might have kept the sauce very fresh and simple with lighter herbs like basil. In this case, I opted to bulk things up with some meatiness, deeper spices, and heartier herbs like thyme and oregano.

For the most part, I kept this sauce simple using things I had on hand. I happened to have tomatoes I’d diced and stewed lightly myself over the summer stored in the freezer. Another day, I’d be just as likely to grab a can of diced tomatoes or some boxed pureed tomatoes, or mix them both together. If you have a jarred tomato sauce you like, use that and gussy it up with some extra spices and herbs.

Boccalone makes some delicious salumi products. Lucky for me, they're usually at my local farmers market. If you're in the Bay Area, you can also find them in the Ferry Building.

Some delicious ‘ndjua salami was beckoning to be included. ‘Ndjua is soft, creamy salami and it blended right into the sauce like silk. You could certainly use another style and get a chunkier texture–I’m sure you’ll be just as happy. The spices in the sausage mirrored those in the wine beautifully. I’d always heard that cinnamon works wonders in tomato sauce–it seemed very fitting to add a pinch here. I also added a little fennel pollen to make my sauce just a little fancy, even if I was wearing sweat pants. (Fennel pollen is intensely flavored, but rather pricey. Swap in fennel seeds for a similar effect. Give them a light toasting beforehand if you feel up to it.)

I’d purchased fresh spinach pasta at the farmer’s market. Since it only requires a few minutes, I cooked the pasta right in the sauce and saved myself a pot. It all just needed a generous sprinkling of cheese and it was good to go. From cooking to bowl to couch, it all couldn’t have taken more than half an hour.

There is no need to stick to this recipe faithfully. Use up what’s in your fridge and pantry that suits your mood and your wine–because of course you should have a little chef’s juice to sip as you’re cooking

In our last 2 oz. Pours, Nikki shared a few of her 2016 pairing highlights, discovered at fun dinner parties hosted by her and husband Greg in their new CA digs.

Here’s my (Bridget’s) version: Favorite 2016 Pairings, The Restaurant Edition. Or, perhaps one in the same, The New York City Edition, as my tiny apartment lacks formal dining space and restaurant eating and drinking (and observing and analyzing and socializing) is a big part of my job as a wine rep.

Anyway, besides the restaurant setup, my top picks both involved the familar “ooooh, what IS this?” element of surprise wine geeks know and love. From there, discovering the right pairing was just that much better.

The Wine: Hatzidakis Nikteri 2012, Santorini, Greece

Friends, and many clients, can testify that I ~~will not shut up~~ talk a lot about this wine. Pre-Wildman, my Greek wine-tasting experience was mostly limited to standard examples of the country’s best-known white, Assyrtiko, a citrusy, high-acid variety whose home base is the gorgeous island of Santorini. And, whose best examples can be formidable, more interesting alternatives to Sauvignon Blanc.

In this case, however, I encountered a totally different, traditional style of Assyrtiko. Made from late-harvested grapes that are pressed at night (#coolertemperatures) “Nikteri,” which translates as "night harvest," is a fuller-bodied, lightly oaked, turbo-charged Assyrtiko wine.

The sexy deep color (the result of six hours’ skin contact before pressing) tipped me off to the awesomeness of this lovely example from the renowned Hatzidakis winery. Sure enough, it was super concentrated, with a gorgeous, honeyed nose and beguiling honey/mineral/smoke/saline thing happening on the palate. Added perks: bright acidity, a cool, glycerol texture, lengthy finish, and plenty of Assyrtiko’s trademark freshness.

The Pairing: While it’s not the only Nikteri out there, my first, fantastic taste happened to be a wine I sell. As a testament to its versatility, I've had fun placing it at restaurants ranging from high-end sushi to a steakhouse. Admittedly, though, my No. 1 match is straight-up Greek: grilled octopus (htapothi scharas). The one pictured came courtesy of Pylos in the East Village, where they always seem to cook it perfectly. The wine's concentrated character was sublime with the smoky, tender meat; a slightly sweet balsamic reduction leveled off with the wine's aromatics and zippy acidity. Salty capers added a little pop to jive with the Nikteri's saline, smells-like-the-sea-in-Santorini-ness. In a word, yum.

The Wine: Imbue Cellars Bittersweet Vermouth, Willamette Valley, Oregon

Late last year, I headed into midtown's Indian Accent with a craving for a kulcha – buttery, fluffy stuffed naan (in this case, butter-chicken-stuffed). As its proper mate, I had my sights set on Chenin Blanc, or another aromatic white.

Daniel, the somm, offered up a few delicious options, and then decided to steer me off course.

Eau, I am glad he did.

The alternative, Imbue Bittersweet Vermouth, was a winner. While I’ve explored a good bit of the fortified category (yaaaas sherry, yaaaaas Madeira), Vermouth, that aromatized fortified wine flavored with various herbs, flowers and other botanicals, hadn't been a go-to, or even on the radar, as an option for sipping solo.

Suffice to say, this has changed.

The Pairing: Made with Pinot Gris, and fortified with brandy of the same grape from Oregon’s Clear Creek Distillery (one of the earliest, coolest, U.S. microdistilleries, IMHO), Imbue features just a touch of sweetness and nine different botanicals, including Egyptian Chamomile, elderflower, bitter orange peel, cilantro, juniper, clove and sage leaf. The remaining two botanicals, apparently a secret, made for fun sniffing-and-guessing.

The distinctive botanical character, alongside the profile of the Oregon Pinot Gris (a style known for aromas and flavors of pear, citrus, white blossoms, and so on) were on point with the equally intense aromas and flavors of the butter chicken. Things got even better when Daniel hooked up some black dairy dal (creamy, buttery lentil and tomato soup). Not only did the shared intensity of the food and wine continue to shine, but the Imbue’s touch of sweetness, and especially its warming 17 percent alcohol, paired so well with the creamy texture that it was hard to distinguish where the food started and the wine began. While the combination called to mind the practice of using brandy or other booze to cut cream-based soups, it was on another level altogether. Vermouth, I will be experimenting with you in 2017.