Gascony Rides Again

November 1, 2014 in Wine | Tags: , , , , | by | Leave a comment

DuffourLast year, in an effort to go deeper into spirits (Brandy) and round out my beverage knowledge, I remember reading all about Armagnac from Charles Neal, importer and writer/historian extraordinaire. I enjoyed learning about the region—Gascony—with a long history of culinary and wine traditions. It was untapped, rustic and genuine, escaping the buzz of nearby Bordeaux for obvious reasons (one being proximity to a major trading port), and although the book didn’t leave me with an insatiable thirst for Armagnac I had suddenly been turned on to the South West of France.

Back LabelI had stockpiled Cahors, Madiran and the white wines of Jurançon after reading Neal’s take, branching out from Armagnac to find a bunch of treasures—albeit under-the-radar wines—for reasonable prices. Most recently, I unscrewed a bottle of Côtes de Gascogne from Domaine Duffour, a producer of both Armagnac and wine from the village of Lagrulet-du-Gers. The Gascony blend was comprised of 70% Colombard and equal parts Ugni Blanc and Gros Manseng. What did it taste like?

Sprightly and fresh, with a pale straw color in the glass and bright aromatics of lime zest, honeydew, guava, an herbal tinge and a faint yeastiness reminiscent of good Belgium white ale. A trim medium body, medium-plus acidity and packing a fruit-forward finish of lemons, limes, guava, passion fruit and minerals.

The best part of this wine was the QPR (quality-to-price ratio); for nine dollars I had a bottle of wine to share with a friend that made a story and had refreshing properties. The Côtes de Gascogne wines are often simple, carefree and really affordable—rarely topping out over twelve dollars—and even though the summer is behind us these are still really friendly bottles as apertifs for enjoying the perennially warm weather of Southern California.

I am still developing my tastes for Armagnac, but am sold on the values of South Western French wine. Domaine Duffour is worth seeking out as are a number of other great producers from Charles Neal’s portfolio. Cheers.

Tempering Defeat With Bandol Rosé

October 9, 2014 in Wine | Tags: , , , , , | by | Leave a comment

Gros NoreMy favorite baseball team was ousted on Sunday from the 2014 MLB playoffs and temperatures peaked in the triple digits over the weekend, yes, we were firmly in fall. Overloading on football and baseball, while I ate some North Hollywood Thai and sipped on a domestic Picpoul (Whoa! I’m that guy), it was a pretty lousy sports weekend. It might have been the heat or the string of defeats for the day, but I suddenly wished to be reliving another, more cheerful Sunday.

I drifted into a rosé reverie from earlier in the summer; transported alongside of an ice cream sandwich and pretzel floaty (waterbeds), a ton of friends, excellent fare and a magnum of Bandol rosé.

Domaine du Gros Noré hails from Bandol, making an excellent pink wine of Mourvèdre, Cinsaut and Grenache. Bandol, an appellation of Provence, was made famous by Domaine Tempier and the use of Mourvèdre in the reds and rosés of the region. Gros Noré, like most producers, is often overshadowed by Tempier’s rosé every year, as far as buying trends are concerned, but delivers scintillating aromatics, a suave mouth feel and lengthy finish that makes it a great value (about $10 less, and still available in wine shops where you might be laughed at for asking about Tempier by now).

With a paper plate’s worth of Wisconsin bräts and pickled sides, I uncorked the 1.5 liter bottle. Red flowers, summer berries, apricot, peach over a riverbed of wet stones filled my nose. Fanning out over the palate and propped up by moderate acidity were lengthy notes of Rainier cherries, strawberries, rubbed herbs and minerals. It was youthful, bright and weighty, living up to its place.

A companion to a multitude of flavors like spicy mustard and jalapeño relish that were drizzled on the brät, the Gros Noré rosé crawled out of the shadow of some the vaunted producers of the region to forge one of my favorite memories of this summer.

Unfortunately, when I came to, I was sweating in a dark apartment watching the Cincinnati Bengals suffer an ugly and similar fate to all of my teams that fell earlier on that Sunday. One can only hope a little summer’s rosé magic will start to follow my teams. Victory and rosé would go so well together.

Fuji Of My Eye

October 7, 2014 in OC Eats | Tags: , , , , | by | 1 comment

Fuj 73After a routine visit to the credit union, I spotted a strange marquee in a nearby strip mall. Something kitsch and novel—in terms of lunch—, brought me closer and while I wasn’t exactly sold, I wasn’t forgetting about it either. Showing a bespectacled man, Fuji, and his famous burgers, the placard’s image stuck between my ears like a Jon Brion score. A visit to the burger joint would have to wait, though, until another midday trip to the bank.

Who was Fuji? What inspired his burgers? Those questions played in my mind that day, while the answers would arrive sooner than anticipated; scheduling a trip to the far-away bank in between strategically placed sales meetings (accommodating curiosity), so as not to feel too guilty for an extended lunch break, I made for the burger joint.

Fuj BurgFuji’s had started in Long Beach in the early 70’s, and now, I was dining at its second location in Orange County—Fountain Valley—forty-one years later. The original location had shuttered and they had moved south to Huntington Beach in the 80’s. Fuji had been one of the originators of fusion cuisine in Southern California (before it was fad!), tweaking the comfort foods modestly and tastefully. The restaurant was now in the hands of his children.

Stepping foot inside, Fuji’s was clean and unassuming (the way I liked things). There were fast colors of key lime green and bright red—the hallmarks of college marketing—with an open kitchen and the menu chalked wall-side. It boasted a Japanese flair with teriyaki burgers and the like, however I kept it simple to judge the base. Five dollars later (and a few minutes) and I was hovering over a hamburger and fries.

No tells on the first take as the burger came completely wrapped. After peeling back the parchment it showed no frills just the classic griddled patty, shredded iceberg, tomato, pickles and a sloppy application of mayo. Despite its shabby appearance the burger actually replicated some of my favorite burger joint experiences. I was only short my beloved banana peppers. The patty was well seasoned, the vegetables were crisp and cold, playing on temperature contrasts, and the food was honest.

Fuj BacWith the foundation solid I thought I would brave a more adventurous path upon my return. On my second trip, the teriyaki bacon burger warranted a go—reasonably priced below five dollars—with another basket of fries. Arriving in similar fashion, the sandwich boasted a few strips of bacon and a heap of teriyaki sauce in addition to the core ingredients. The salty-sweet combination was almost perfectly executed on the meat, save for the excess sauce surrounding it, the greater proportion of which disrupted the balance for me.

Fuji’s was something I wanted to be great, and with my expectations tethered to the clouds, the burgers actually didn’t disappoint (regarding quality and price), which in itself, was a nice experience. This might not be the destination spot for gourmands in California but definitely a strong recommendation for those who live in the surrounding areas. Not bad for a lunch break.

Oinkster Reloaded

August 19, 2014 in Local Eats | Tags: , , , | by | Leave a comment

OINK Pasadena is not close to me, nor is Eagle Rock, but occasionally I will have business that takes me east. When I am out there, navigating unfamiliar freeways like the 210 and 134, it’s good to have a few markers that I can lay down. After leaving an account I stopped off at one of my favorite places on Colorado Boulevard to grab a sandwich.
A giant A-framed marquee that could be seen from down the street was a welcoming sight as I approached slowly in rush hour. Eric Burdon and the Animals were audible, after parking the car and queuing up for a cheeseburger at The Oinkster.
It had been four years since my last official visit and about two since on unofficial business. Both times were consistently delicious; The Oinkster hybridized the Californian burger stand offering with better ingredients and a methodical approach. I had selected the classic 1/3 lb burger with cheddar cheese—as my own tastes, in cheese, had matured in my absence—and a Boylan’s root beer to wash it down.
In a little more time than it took for me to load up on banana peppers and pickled extras, the cheeseburger arrived, smocked in yellow wax paper inside a red plastic basket. Fresh and warm; the sandwich was the perfect contrast between cold, crisp vegetables set against the warm patty and layer of finely melted cheese. The bit of acidity from the pickles, and the smartly dressed thousand-island sauce added extra layers of flavor in an aptly dubbed ‘classic’ representation. It was excellent and exactly how I remembered it.
My long drive home smacked of nostalgia, bringing to mind the last couple trips I had made to Eagle Rock and recalling a few of my favorite burger stands that I grew up with in Southern California. The Oinkster delivers a familiar cast of flavors exquisitely, not claiming to be new, or quick, but done well.

Quietude And Surprise

August 11, 2014 in Wine | Tags: , , , , , , | by | Leave a comment

C M J GThe world of wines is a lot bigger than my grocery store buying days let on. Working at a top-notch restaurant in Los Angeles, one with a serious wine program, has afforded me a privileged view of some of the greatest producers almost nightly. I learn every shift, with my own piecemeal understanding of new and legendary winemakers crashing in sets of waves; sometimes, like last Thursday, being a sizable break that sets you tumbling.

The closing ceremonies of the sommelier staff are always the same, breaking down stations, polishing, cleaning and restocking before our nightly bonding unwinds in the cellar, after we’ve clocked out. We gather round the samples that our wine director has amassed, from guests and salespeople, or we’ll taste some interesting leftovers from service that night. Often the wines are just footnotes that don’t carry much over the late night chatter.

Last Thursday, however, was a themed evening on Burgundy, and a night that made quite an impression. It was hard not to be wrapped up by a vertical tasting of Ghislaine Barthod (my introduction to the estate’s Pinot Noirs from Chambolle-Musigny), but another producer had me stammering over its beauty. A Premier Cru Chardonnay from Chassagne-Montrachet, with which I was unfamiliar, its label simple and not letting on much more than it would be of a certain quality (as Premier Cru designates).

The Chardonnay was lemon hued in the glass and led with a developing scent of citrus, golden apple, smoke and a surplus of chalk. The effect wasn’t instantaneous, rather a slow transmission that took hold. I was revved up by the mouth-filling body (medium-plus), the luscious texture of a complex range of flavors that brought out more pear and apple under fresh-squeezed lemon, a little wood spice and a lot of chalk like two blackboard erasers smashing together violently on my palate while retaining mouth-watering acidity. It was overwhelming. Each sip surpassed the previous, and by the end of the night I had consumed more than my fair share.

I kept harping on it, until the wine director clued me in on the price of the Chardonnay from Jean-Noël Gagnard’s Les Caillerets vineyard ($100 a bottle). My ignorance had been helpful in demonstrating what a Premier Cru was capable of, without being influenced by a staggering price tag or prestige of the family and their vineyard holdings.

After that night I did my homework and saw the family’s vast reach in the village of Chassagne-Montrachet. I also read about the fickle and warm vintage from which I’d tasted (2011), and weighed my own chances to ever taste more of this wine again—to make sure it wasn’t a fluke—as few places carry the wine in California. It’s the constant reward of schooling, the unexpected storming of one’s taste, that makes for such a draw to the job. Introduced to a great wine of Jean-Noël Gagnard through the auspices of my wine director, the din of guests subsided and the after-hours repartee fading, the sea of wine becomes the night.

A Destiny Against Themes

August 7, 2014 in Local Eats | Tags: , , , | by | 2 comments

J RI know my penchant for hamburgers may appear never wavering, but often, other menu items will tempt me. A fresh catch can read tantalizingly from a menu, or barbequed brisket can sound, and smell, better than a lowly hamburger, if I’m comparing meat to meat. No more difficult is it to fend off an instinct for seafood when I’m in a nautically themed restaurant, as recently I neatly fended, when I dined at James Republic in Long Beach. The journey sometimes is to allow the good burgers to find me.

A modern and clean-cut façade, James Republic operates at the corner of Linden Avenue and First Street, in downtown Long Beach. Chalkboard marquees shed any notion of a cold and uninviting downtown establishment while a seasonally driven menu and a stellar bar program are enough to hook me in for lunch or dinner.

J R BURUnlike my past dinner experiences here, the seafood options were downplayed, and the burger was quick to grab my attention.

A short fire time yielded a seven-grain bun sandwiching two medium-rare, grass-fed patties with a bubbling layer of Fiscalini cheddar that obscured the “fancy sauce” and onion jam, all served up on a thick cutting board with a ramekin of house-cured pickles. For extra measure I ordered a boat of fries.

Although I prefer to see some greens like Arugula, Butter, or even Iceberg lettuce on a sandwich (to reduce my guilt), one bite eased my fears of imbalance. The coarse grind was seasoned to perfection, the cheese, and horseradish—in the ‘fancy sauce’—added some bite, and where the seeded bun was the secret weapon, harnessing both the practical needs of maintaining form and sopping up the jus while the seeded crust imparted a boost in the flavor department. The pickles provided extra acid to help reset the palate. It was a thoughtful and clean presentation, which served as a good ambassador for the restaurant.

James Republic’s overachieving cheeseburger reminded me why I am on this never-ending quest of documenting America’s favorite comfort food—burgers—because even if I am led astray, chasing other menu items, a great burger can be an excellent place to drop the anchor.

Honor’s Pedigree

June 13, 2014 in Local Eats | Tags: , , , | by | Leave a comment

HB MenuJust about every restaurant menu features a hamburger. While some places make thoughtful tweaks, others are content to produce uninspired margin boosts. In the interest of seeing that latter trend fade, some extra care went into selecting an eatery for us to dine at on a Friday not too long ago.

Beverly Hills is rarely in my sights for cities to eat burgers, but after a little research on the best burgers in LA, the Honor Bar, square in the heart of the city, emerged as a prospect for the evening. We headed to the intersection of Wilshire Boulevard and South Beverly Drive to try on the appropriately named Honor Burger.

The Honor Bar is the sidecar to South Beverly Grill—a restaurant affiliate of the Hillstone Group, which is responsible for one of the better burgers I’ve reviewed at Houston’s—with a deep, engulfing feel anchored by its sleek wooden bar and corner side griddle à la Hinano Café. All signs gave out that this burger would be a veritable contender.

The four of us took consecutive seats down the bar and gave the menu* a brief glance before placing our orders: four medium-rare Honor burgers with respective libations to wash ‘em down.

HB BurgerDing! Our meals were up swiftly; halved and toothpicked arriving splayed out on pastel-colored ceramic boats. Fries arrived separately in julep glasses. Each burger was demonstrably pink in its core and the sensible application of coleslaw lent color to the mouth-watering portrait.

It only took a couple of bites to realize that this burger was solid—the praise for it seemed warranted. The ground chuck was perfectly seasoned and cooked. The coleslaw gave a little flare without being flamboyant or cloying. Nice texture and great depth of flavor delivering everything we were expecting for a somewhat pricey thirteen dollars.

Certainly a good meal, the ingredients were simple and well-presented—better than most—as classicism was upheld at the Honor Bar. They owe a lot to other places in LA though, even if they perfected it more, but without a unique signature they are only serving a solid, enjoyable burger.

* The menu was unique; it pit classic sandwiches (“and a salad”) against sushi.

A Holiday From Hoarding

May 28, 2014 in Wine | Tags: , , | by | Leave a comment

PB Veo 07 I might come off as an inkhorn when talking about wine, especially since I ‘ve had to immerse myself in books to fill in the gaps, but the other elements of service and sales will often help round out my delivery. When I regurgitate information, it’s to solidify my own foundation—not to be pedantic—and share a discoverer’s excitement for producers carrying on long…centuries-long, traditions. In my studies one producer has always stood out even without tasting the wines; in Umbria, a land renowned for truffles and Sagrantino, among other things, Paolo Bea is the cognoscenti’s king. The modest family history and their felicitous wines are always well regarded. Perhaps it was the winery’s labels that conveyed epochs of the vintage and treatment of the grapes with such transparency that had first attracted me. Whatever the connection, I had stockpiled numerous vintages of Paolo Bea.

A sommelier acquaintance had prodded me to try the Beas immediately and was incredulous of my never having opened a single bottle while having bought so much—the thought was incongruent. And in a reflex, I purchased more, this time the 2007 Rosso de Veo, which had been described to me as the younger vines of Sagrantino; more approachable and a glimpse of what was cached.

That night I joined the 70-90% of consumers said to drink wine the same day they purchase it, removing the foil of a relatively inexpensive bottle at forty-seven dollars (!), with surgical precision. The glass and carafe were left to air out for a while.

A shimmering garnet, opaque in the stemware, casting a developing scent of boysenberry jam, lavender, balsamic reduction, cedar and worn leather. Dry and powerful, a formidable medium body, with round, prevalent tannins (medium-plus) and acid to match, that flooded the palate with blackberries, dried herbs and sweet spices.

The youthful and robust table wine had put things in perspective and had eclipsed studying in a sip. One seven-fifty isn’t enough to change my approach to learning about wine, but it does suggest that there need to be shorter intervals between books and tasting, whenever possible. Grand Cru and First growths welcome, as is any wine from Paolo Bea!

The Soul Of Simplicity

April 1, 2014 in Wine | Tags: , , , | by | Leave a comment

de Forville NebI pulled deep from within my Italian stable searching purposely for a gem that would pair with dinner. Food and wine are a constant tune, sounding like a soothing set of guitars on April’s song. I turned over enough hibernating bottles to disturb sediment and finally found it.

An unassuming candidate in my grasp, cool to the touch, I carried over a bottle to the dinner table to ready it for the shock of serving. I had decided upon a 2007 De Forville Nebbiolo from the Langhe. The bottle’s Delft-like crest, coupled with the importer seal made me feel at ease for the duty of pairing with a simple dinner of steak, baked potato and asparagus.

The pedigree alone would help this entry-level bottle be worth the wait; a producer known for their Barbaresco would obviously know how to coax a starter Nebbiolo into something special. Once it opened up, an effusive, developed perfume unfolded like a James Joyce novel. One of dusty raspberry, mushroom, pepper and a charming hint of country funk (a tolerable amount of brettanomyces) that made you feel you knew where this was going. The Nebbiolo continued to show off layers in an elegant medium frame that carried with it a fresh dose of tart cherry followed by a briny component (olive juice) and leather. Over the course of dinner this wine became something much bigger than it had let on.

Even the unruly asparagus snapped to as they were quelled by the sagely Nebbiolo—undoubtedly out of respect. It was a stunning wine that possessed enough acid to clean a mouthful of creamy potatoes and melted butter, while obviously working to enhance the seasoned filet.

I suspect that the wine was flat on, reaching its zenith somewhere in the middle frame of dinner and it really wouldn’t have mattered what had been served with it, from rabbit and roasted vegetables to a bowl of ramen. My Italian inclination was paying dividends just as the dinner and music had arrived at their natural cadence.

San Francisco Wine Finds

March 31, 2014 in Uncategorized | Tags: , , , | by | Leave a comment

Dragon Chardonnay Inspired by a day’s worth of tasting top-notch domestic wines in the beautiful digs of Bluxome Street Winery, it was on to San Francisco’s bottle shops to shake things up. A sunny afternoon in March encouraged an armful of white wines from all over Italy and France.

Among them we opened a couple bottles that shared country of origin (Italy), but little else. The first wine’s healthy progression—I had marveled over it (and reviewed it last) in 2012—lingered still. The other wine was from a surging “natural wine” producer in Sicily—Occhipinti—crafting an overachieving bianco.

OcchiOnce we had a cheese board prepped it was time to enter the dragon. Buadana’s 2011 Chardonnay, “Dragon,” from the Langhe had been aging gracefully with a nose still fresh of white apricot, lemon curd and green apple. Golden-hued in the glass, with medium-plus body, almost unctuous, it wielded medium-plus acidity leading to a dry and mouth-watering finish. Intense purity on the palate, it hadn’t lost a step, exhibiting green apple, peach, wet rocks, lemon peel and white flowers that had improved on a well-etched memory. A cappella…great, and a definite match for the gooey truffle Brie.

The 2012 Occhipinti [ock-ee-pin-ti] SP68 Terre Siciliane Bianco was a blend of Zibibbo (Muscat of Alexandria) and Albanello—an indigenous varietal that was once used for making sweet wines in Sicily—bore no resemblance to a sweet wine. We were transitioning from a robust Chardonnay to wine that brought to mind Sherry Fino. Dark gold in the glass, developing aromas roared forth with medium-plus intensity, suggestive of chamomile tea and orange Jell-O (floral but peculiar) most prominently. On the tongue it was medium-bodied with acids to match leaving a lingering finish of baked golden apple and yellow plum that were supported by a chorus of tea, herbs and dried flowers that hummed like a tuning fork.

From the handsome lot of wines at IPOB—In Pursuit of Balance—to the leisurely porch sipping of two distinct Italian white wines there was a common thread—balance. It drummed loudly, but not at all obnoxiously, as the two wines were poised and nothing appeared out of place. I can’t wait to see what those other purchases (French wines) have in store.

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