Sherman's: What were we drinking?
What were we drinking? Oz viognier meets the American pasta-toss
All the finicky folderol about matching food and wine gets more challenging or more irrelevant every year. As tastes and options from around the globe spill out on the table, they make a mess of any careful categorizing.
Take a dinner last week. It wasn’t the work of smart New American chef, just a something left-over stirfry. Call it Contemporary Refrigerator Fusion. I had wild mushroom ravioli from the Ravioli Co. one plump chicken liver from a bird the night before. Sounded earthy, so I added crumbled walnuts, hard ricotta cheese, and fresh basil, olive oil, pepper and a touch of balsamic. If that’s not your style, I’ m sure you’ve put together odd couples that would surprise me.
What to drink? The chicken liver and mushrooms made me think northern Italy, Barbera and an Amarone. But there were none on the shelf. Well, Pinot Noir is always mushroom-friendly. Again the cupboard was bare.
But then this was not a standard meal in any cuisine, so why kid myself. I went adventuring and found a Yalumba Viognier. Why not? Viognier is not truly pegged down either, although I told myself that Condrieu and foie gras might work. My poorman’s version might – and did: The viognier was dry but full bodied, its muskiness matched the mushrooms and livers, and the apricots gave it a surprise lift.
Fear not. We’ve got new foods and new wines. Be your own match maker.
- Chris Sherman, The Blogging Nibbler
What were we drinking? Yorkshire ale meets hot, hot, hot.
Beer and curry is a classic pub pairing but this night upped the ante. The food was Thai take-out green papaya salad and a skillet full of jerk pork shoulder. Some menus at my place are like that. In this case the jerk came from Publix, where the meat department was bored with beef and stir-fry veggies and tried out jerked pork and a chicken leg curry. Hat’s off.
Together they packed a vinegar punch, a double shot of peppers and a spice grinder full of fun.
The answer was not an India Pale Ale, but a hefty no-nonsense English strong ale from Yorkshire, the Rigg Welter from Black Sheep Brewery. Whew, Yorkshire ale is from a different planet, one that deserves more attention and savoring: the strength is in massive broad hops as well as big alcohol.
Riggwelter is an exceptional ale from Black Sheep, a young brewery with old traditions. Btw, the name is what old Yorkshire farmers call a sheep that’s fallen and can’t get up (Must have been a wave of sheep-tipping).
This is dark coffee brown with a creamy head with an aroma of fresh roasted coffee that carries through to an earthy flavors of coffee and malt and hops bitter enough to stand up to all the flavors on my plate.
It’s a hop heads delight, one of many on the expanding shelves of craft beers at B-21.
- Chris Sherman, The Blogging Nibbler
What were we drinking? Inch-thick veal chops and ’98 songs of Roland
It’s hard to eat and drink like this anywhere but home. Many chefs could match me in searing big veal chops to a crackling crust (and still luscious flesh medium rare inside) with caramelized onions and wild mushrooms with polenta and garlicked rapini on the side. But find an 11-year old bottle of Roland la Garde? There it was in my very petite cellar, and the price tag still said $17.99. Remember when.
Another lesson in the joys of waiting – but not too long. And a delicious defense of the Bordeaux fringe, in this case the Cotes de Blaye, where Bruno Martin brings first class by-hand technique to traditionally grown vines. The 1998 was rich easy drinking, supple and sleek yet stout hearted and earthy enough for the hearty flavors of a very carnivorous dinner.
Plus the warrior Roland still sings lustily in the far Medoc. The ’98 is gone but the 2000 is among us and gives a rich taste of Martin’s combination of new thinking in old vineyards. Roland, Charlemagne’s nephew, was there on a hill over the Gironde in 778, the vintage of 2000 is $34.99. History doesn’t come cheaper.
- Chris Sherman
What were we drinking? Mon petite and my big fat lamb chops.
We had thick chops off the the grill with a wide strip of fat and a good char – marshmallows for grown-ups. The petite was just as fatty. Ravenswood’s 2007 Vintner’s Blend, is Ravenswood’s entry level edition of the varietal ($6.99), but the grape always packs so much smoke and rich texture that it’s almost bacon fat – with the very modern chocolate trim.
There was still enough hints of pepper and black cherry, underscoring why I love this oddball varietal especially with big flavored grilled meats. McManis and Bogle are fine producers at the same price point. For exceptional renditions of petite, try it from old hands of Seghesio in Alexander Valley ($31.99) or the rare old petites still made in Napa by Girard ($24.99) and Delectus ($57.99).
What were we drinking? Part Yum.
The peanuts and curry sauces of Thai food don’t thrill me. I learned to just say no to any hot sauce that came with a liability waiver. No, it’s the cool not the heat that draws me. Especially the bright fruits and vinegars in green papaya salads and Thai yums, the cold dishes of meats and seafood tossed with lettuces, carrots, peppers and nuts. And lemongrass and galangal.
So there we were in our neighborhood branch of Jasmine Thai deciding on wine, The classic answer to Thai and other spicy dishes is Riesling, with a chilly touch of sweetness, hints of clove and cinnamon, to match and soften the heat.
But there was a great deal on a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc (Think $10). Chewing on my yum a few minutes later, I parsed the flavor I liked best, the green crunch of lemongrass, bracing with citrus and ginger. Lemon …grass. What wine would have similar flavors????????????
Lemony and grassy? Duh, that’s Sauvignon Blanc for sure. And In this bottle it was the 2007 Crossings from Marlborough. This is lively , full of citrus and plain fun at a bargain price. Not to mention that Robert Parker gave this little bottle 89. Maybe that was Bob with the Panang curry at the corner table?
Very yummy at $9.99 (and cheaper by the case at B-21).
It worked better than the usual Singha beer for me. Unless you can find a microbrewed wheat beer where lemongrass subs for hops as the bittering agent. That’s sweet, er sour, but they are rare.
Another option worth trying where available are the Thai wines of Monsoon Valley. Made 50 miles from Bangkok by a family that has explored tropical grape growing and wine making for generations. The grapes are familiar: Colombard, Shiraz and Muscat and exotic locals, Malaga Blanc and Pokdum in a range of reds and whites. They were bright clean fruity and spicy when I tried them at a wine show last year. Didn’t taste like pad Thai but I sensed cinnamon. Try ‘em when you see’em.
What were we drinking?
Dinner at home was a quick version of caldo gallego, the soup of white beans, greens and potatoes with a small but mandatory bit of pork (others may do without) and not so small helpings of garlic, onion and bayleaf. Caldo gallego is municipal soul food here as it is in Galicia, its namesake homeland on the tough and windy northwest corner of Spain. In Tampa, many of our Spanish families are Gallegos who trace their heritage back to that province, and we’ve enjoyed this soup for more than a century.
But what to drink with a near vegetarian dish, hearty thick and long on beans. There was a bit of a chill so I thought rustic Mediterranean, but the wine rack was bare of garnacha and monstrell, or anything from Iberia. Went with La Vielle Ferme, the juicy grenache blend from the Cotes du Luberon made by the estimable Perrins.
Great bargain drink, but too hearty, rich and jammy for bean soup; together it was a mouthful. Tried a Chilean sauvignon blanc, it was too sharp.
If this sounds like Goldilocks, sometimes food and wine are. I certainly believe personal taste outweighs firm rules (Opposites? Similars? Matching weight? Local tradition) but sometimes flavors do clash or sabotage each other. Eat and drink things you like (I love both the caldo and the LBV) you’re sure to find combos that are fabulous. And others not so much.
So next time I want something brighter and I’ll follow wise Spanish traditions.
One old maxim is that sherry and soup are good partners, I’ll try a fino first, and then an amontillado, at most a heady oloroso.
The other is to drink like a gallego and I have two favorites to try.
Galicia’s finest wine is albarino, an aromatic whites that’s great with shellfish, but on that coast clams and such do wind up in white bean stews (as they do at casa Sherman) . My nominee will be the 2007 Burgans Albarino ($11.99).
The tempting red is a mencia, the pride of Bierzo in neighboring Leon. It has been growing in popularity – and body – where the heartiest are as good with the local lamb as a thorny shiraz. The best 2005 value is the hiply labeled Baltos ($14.99), from old vines and new smarts at Dominio de Tares.
Got a better idea? Stay tuned.




