picnics and sunsets

summer is the perfect time for a picnic. but picnics take planning. what you bring must be portable, and hopefully, finger food.

i always love fresh fruit in season. sprinkle a little sugar and let the juices macerate, or just leave them plain. veggies with hummus or a yogurt-based dip is an easy crowd-pleaser too. making your own pico de gallo with tortilla chips is a quick way to wave away hunger pangs at the park or the beach.

true, simple ingredients and simple preparation are key. but some of the best picnics involve a group of friends, each bringing their favorite dish.

just last weekend, we spent time at the beach with some friends and their families. everyone brought something quick and easy: potstickers with thai sauce; a mediterranean tustcan bean salad with roasted red peppers and feta cheese; bean and corn salsa with multigrain chips.

we chowed down. quick and simple recipes, yet it seemed like a luxury to eat. maybe it was the amazing sunset on the horizon or the good company that made it better. but with very little effort, we had a feast.

sometimes, it’s not the grandiose gestures but the little things that matter in life. and so it is with food…

savoring france

i recently returned from france. i want to describe the most beautiful meal…

we went to les oenophiles in dijon. it was a little out of the way place that we never would have found without our guide book.

i asked for a table for my family, “cinq personnes.” after seating us, a waiter came almost immediately with a tray of amuse bouche: salmon mousse with caviar alternated with prosciutto-wrapped sundried tomatoes studded with roasted garlic on crostini.

i ordered the filet mignon for my husband and the rosettes d’agneau for myself. the kids had pommes frites avec steak hache. the kids meal alone would have been a great. but i must say, our plates were even better. sorry, kids.

now for the wine. the sommelier suggested a moray st denis 2002. the moment he poured the first glass, you could smell the perfume of the wine. i can’t recall a single time i’ve ever used the word sublime to describe something before. now i can.

the kids opted for dessert. they had homemade ice cream. vanilla made from real beans. raspberry sorbet bursting with real fruit. and the chocolate—oh the chocolate. intense. deep. rich. full. the best chocolate ice cream i’ve ever tasted. understandably, the kids loved it more than the pommes frites.

my husband and i decided dessert was best enjoyed with the stinky cheeses. morbier, rouquefort, a small selection of goat cheeses, and plenty more that just melted on your plate before it melted on your palate.

there are moments that are simply invincible. they stay in your mind. you never forget them and refer to them often as a beautiful time in your life. that moment—smelling that beautiful wine, eating that incredible meal—was my moment. life doesn’t get any better than that.

photo courtesy of les oenophiles.

little french bistro

i had the pleasure of visiting the newly opened café lola on unquowa road, fairfield’s answer to a french bistro. the cuisine was as light and fresh as it was traditionally french.

their space is limited. their foyer, if you can call it that, consists of two chairs, a lilliputian couch and a foot stool. not surprisingly, it would be a whole lot less fun to wait with more than a friend or two. but be sure those friends have recently lost weight.

their bar area is a bit meek as well. it looks like it belongs in someone’s den more than it does in a restaurant. however, they did what they could with meager surroundings. unfortunately, the space has always been small. the previous two restaurants, the pearl of budapest and isla montecristo, fought the space restrictions as well. with lola, they’ve managed to brighten up the space with a light coat of paint and spare furniture. it’s amazing how you can make more with less.

at first seating, a tiny plate of gougeres, or little cheese puffs, and salted nuts greeted us. this is to take the edge of your hunger while you consider the petits et grands plats to choose from.

their wine list is an eclectic mix of french and american wines. but of those offered, their pinot noir and their malbec are hearty suggestions. the pinot is light and fruity, the malbec herculean.

we started with the frisée aux lardons, a traditional salad of curly endive and handmade croutons tossed lightly with a shallot-bacon dressing. a perfectly poached egg was placed on top to be broken and mixed at the table.

we indulged in garlicky escargots. i have not had escargots since i was little. i remember the special plate it came in and the smell of the garlic as it married with the melted butter. skip the little snails, man. let me dip my bread in that thing. if the divots were big enough, i’d swim in it.

we also tried a grown-up version of macaroni and cheese. if you liked it enough, you could get it for dinner as well. it was properly creamy with the texture attributed to the gruyère and a touch of bacon. a dusting of bread crumbs just kissed the top. this was not your typical neon orange kraft mac-n-cheese.

their dinner menu boasts such favorites as roasted chicken, mussels in marinara as well as the little crustaceans in a madras curry sauce. i highly recommend the latter. if you prefer something other than shellfish, there was a lovely offering of beef bourgignon, steak au poivre, and pan-seared duck. we tried the steak frites. it was fine, but relatively unremarkable. we might have been better off with one of the other dishes.

their specials are rather good. i had a pan-seared sea bass with a butternut squash puree that was pillow-soft. my husband, however, had by far the best dish. he asked for the chicken in the madras curry sauce, a dish not offered on the menu. the chef agreed to make it and it came out quite well. there was just enough heat and spice to make your mouth dance without over-playing it. the chef stopped by the table later on to ask if we liked the dish. mais oui. but, of course. who wouldn’t?

while the café certainly struggles with space issues, they make up for it in taste. but when it comes to a restaurant, i would rather suffer with my surroundings than suffer with the food.

organic wines: part two

About two weeks ago, my neighbors and I got together to drink a few organic wines. There were nine eager wine tasters in my kitchen, including one who works in the wine industry. None of us walked away feeling like we’d tasted anything remarkable.

I wrote about it a few days later. I got a response from representatives of two different labels we tried. One reaction came across as a bit defensive. The other offered a challenge: Try some of our other wines and see if you change your mind. That challenge came from Jim Caudill, a public relations specialist for Brown-Forman Corporation, a wine group that includes the organic label Bonterra Vineyards.

I must say, I admired his spunk. O.K., then. You’re on. Show me the money!

Last week, Caudill shipped me three Bonterra wines: A Sauvignon Blanc 2007, a 2006 Zinfandel, and their 2004 McNab, a blend of 60% Merlot, 26% Cabernet Sauvignon, and 14% Petite Syrah.

We tried all three. I also picked up three other organic wines that were similar for comparison. In my opinion, however, none of the other wines are worth writing about.

In fact, one Chardonnay was described by my neighbor, Sue Potter, as smoky, “like a coal miner’s idea of a white wine.” In particular, there was a Cabernet Sauvignon that had the distinct smell of cat pee. It smelled even worse as it began to open up. Not surprisingly, those wines will remain undiscussed in this article.

So, let’s focus on the Bonterra wines. The last time, we tried the 2006 Sauvignon Blanc. It had notes of citrus and herbs with a clean finish. But the finish wasn’t a crisp clean so much as it was more like cleaning fluid.

“The Bonterra Sauvignon Blanc you tried was made (in that vintage) in a style that resembles New Zealand Sauvignon Blancs. Frankly, people love it or hate it,” said Caudill in an e-mail. “We've moderated it a bit, and we're about to enter the 2008 vintage so I would even suggest giving that one another try…This wine has usually been described as having a lot of pizzaz”

We all agreed the 2007 was better than the 2006. “It’s universally pleasing,” said my neighbor, Karen Nemiah, “I’m enoying this much more.”

We found the 2007 to be citrusy as well with a bit more grapefruit. It was dry, a touch grassy, and had a hint of a floral nose. But, the nose bothered me. I detected little to no bouquet in the 2006. So, I was encouraged by the fact that the 2007 had any nose at all. But, it still wasn’t much of one. Caudill suggested that perhaps the wine was too cold. When wines are too chilled, any nuance in the bouquet gets lost. Unfortunately, we still felt the same about the bouquet even after it had been sitting out for a while.

Part of what makes organic wines organic is no added sulfites. While sulfites may naturally occur in the fermentation process, no sulfur dioxide—typically the wine’s preservative—was part of the wine-making process.

That said, we all wondered aloud if the reason we hadn’t liked the 2006 Sauvignon Blanc compared to the 2007 was not because it was a better vintage but perhaps because the 2006 had already started to turn.

According to a December 2007 article on Salon.com, “Although organic-wine makers now use microfilters to get rid of bacteria and give their wines a longer shelf life, some wine experts say organic wines aren't stable and change flavor within months of being bottled.”

We followed the Sauvignon Blanc with the Zinfandel 2006. It had a lovely blueberry hue with a candy nose. We sensed a bit of caramel, syrup, and what Karen’s husband, Dave, described as a slight tang of hay. But the sweet-tartness rolled into a medicinal finish. It also lacked the spicy kick that other Zins usually have. I like a Zin to have spice and was disappointed not to detect as much.

We moved on to The McNab, Bonterra’s “flagship biodynamic” wine. With biodynamic wines, the grapes are grown 100% organically, but with an eye toward timing the farming and harvesting of them with the stars and the planets. The vineyard is seen as a whole organism—the vines, the soil underneath, as well as the methods used to grow them.

With a blend of Merlot, Cab and Syrah, I admit it was fruit-forward boasting pleasant cherry. But the finish was weak and lacked depth. However, a second try by my neighbor, Jill Rabideau, tasted “a little smoother and better than the first time around.”

When it comes to biodynamic wines, like The McNab label, there are some who swear the fruit is livelier and almost dances on the palate. In the Salon.com article, Marnie Old, assistant dean of wine studies at New York's French Culinary Institute, was quoted as saying that regardless of how wines are certified, those made from pesticide-free grapes have more flavor that is pure, interesting, and unique.

"Everything you do to that ingredient, the grape, is reflected in the final product. It's sort of like you can taste the fingerprint of the wine,” she said. “As you start climbing into the ranks of premium wine there's a distinctiveness of the flavor."

My biggest issue with organic wines is the lack of depth in comparison to non-organic wines. I really wanted to be proven wrong here. I wanted to taste some remarkable wines that knocked my socks off. Instead, I found drinkable wines that are just…fine. Nothing more and, in some cases, a whole lot less. They were fruity, but one-dimensional.

Of the organic wines, the Bonterra label carried the better of the bunch. The McNab, in particular, stood out. But comparing organic to non-organic, they just don’t measure up and I feel like they should. That may be, in fact, why the organic wines have such a stigma.

So, why then, should I pick an organic wine over a non-organic one? They aren’t better. Some are decent and pleasantly drinkable. Others shouldn’t be considered wine but liquid torture in a glass. The organic vines may be tended to in a more sustainable and responsible way. For that, I applaud the organic wine movement. But while the grapes might be happier, I’m not.

I would still like to thank Mr. Caudill for the chance to taste the Bonterra wines. Our little wine group may not have fallen in love with them, but we definitely had fun trying.

Organic Wines: Are They Any Good?

A few of my neighborhood buddies gathered at my house this past weekend for a wine tasting. While it’s not unusual for my neighbors to be seen huddling around my kitchen counter for a glass or two, this time the wine was organic.

I picked a few bottles up at Mo’s Wine & Spirits on Post Road in Fairfield. I spoke with Sharon Kardos who writes for the store’s blog. She was rather knowledgeable about the merchandise and said she has a number of customers who inquire about organic wines.

The wines we tasted ranged from around $12 to $30. Kardos suggested two whites and two reds. My neighbor Charles Gill, our resident “wine guy”, brought over another bottle of white making five bottles in all.

The first white we tried was Gordon Brothers Sauvignon Blanc 2006 from the Columbia Valley in Washington state. There was a touch of smoke and oak with a mineral finish. We all agreed it was a bit thin, but certainly drinkable. Charles noted that, because it was a Columbia Valley wine, there was a better chance of it having good notes.

“There are some really great wines coming out of the Northwest,” he said. “It’s the new Napa Valley.”

Charles brought over the next one we tried, Bonterra Vineyards Sauvignon Blanc 2006 from California. It had lemon and herbs. But it was a simple wine with little to no bouquet. It was certainly drier, or less sweet, than the Gordon Brothers with a clean finish. But that finish didn’t sit well with some. “It’s clean,” said my neighbor Sue Potter, “but it’s the kind of clean that reminds me of a cleaning product.”

The last white we drank was the Frey Chardonnay 2007 also from California. The kindest description we could muster was that it tasted like Sour Patch Kids®, the sour-coated soft candy. It was really nothing more than glorified grape juice. Frankly, I don’t think you could consider it wine.

We quickly moved on to the reds. The first one we tasted was actually the most expensive bottle at about $30. It was the Scott Paul Pinot Noir 2006 from the Willamette Valley in Oregon. This was by far the best wine of the evening. It had a vanilla and gingerbread bouquet with a blackberry jam finish. It was pleasant and drinkable and would pair nicely with food, anything from salmon with an orange-balsamic glaze to grilled lamb.

The final wine was the Our Daily Red 2007 from California. According to Kardos, this wine flies off the shelf at Mo’s. We found it to be tart and seedy with a bit of grassiness. It was slightly earthy, yet had a raspberry sorbet finish. I found it to be less enjoyable than the Scott Paul Pinot Noir. Nonetheless, I didn’t feel like spitting it out in a comical spray as I did with the Frey Chardonnay.

When I asked Kardos why there seemed to be a growing interest in organic wines, she said, “If you’re eating organic, you’re going to be a little more conscious of what you put in your body.”

She went on to say that lots of vineyards are more responsible in their farming habits. These vineyards recycle, use biofuel, use screw caps instead of cork, reduce the glass size of the bottle and try to reduce their overall carbon footprint.

However, there’s a difference between growing sustainably, growing organic and growing “biodynamic”. And, some wines only call themselves organic but don’t necessarily practice organic farming. Which means, you have to read your labels carefully.

To put it simply, organic wines are grown without the aid of chemical fertilizers, pesticides, fungicides or herbicides. They may or may not contain sulfites, or sulfur dioxide. Sulfites are a preservative that have antimicrobial and antioxidant properties. But some consumers are sensitive to the additive and prefer their wines without them, hence a growing interest in the organic labels.

If the wine is 100% organic, it is made from 100% organic ingredients, carries the USDA Organic label, and contains no added sulfites. If the wine is simply labeled as organic, it is typically made from 95% organic ingredients with 5% of it non-organic. If it is listed as Made With Organic Ingredients, it is only 70% organic.

According to the Organic Wine Journal, sustainable wineries “jokingly refer to themselves as ‘organic unless something goes wrong.’” These vineyards essentially try to use less chemicals and are mindful of responsible farming. But that doesn’t make them organic, just conscientious.

Biodynamic wines are organic as well, but the growing involves so much more. It was a concept that was originated by Rudolf Steiner, an Austrian philosopher from late 19th and early 20th century. The grapes are grown 100% organically, but with an eye toward timing the farming and harvesting of them with the stars and the planets. The vineyard is seen as a whole organism—the vines, the soil underneath, as well as the methods used to grow them.

While we tasted each of these wines listed above, I can’t say any one of us walked away thinking we would drink them again. They were too young and too thin. They lacked complexity and nuance many oenophiles come to enjoy in their wine.

As Kardos explained, what makes the wine is the sulfites. “They are a necessary evil,” she said. “You certainly can’t age wine without it. And while wine has naturally occurring sulfites from the fermentation, wine is virtually worthless without a certain level of sulfites in order to age and grow in complexity.”

The concept of organic farming is a good one, perhaps even a noble one. But great organic produce doesn’t necessarily translate into great organic wine. Unfortunately, organic wines, or at least the ones we tasted, have a long way to go in order to be considered good.

you've just gotta go...

there are only a few moments in one’s life when food becomes the medium for a personal transformation. i had one of those moments last saturday night. my husband and i went with two other couples to miya's sushi in new haven.

we had been there two years ago. little did we realize, our “waiter” that night turned out to be the executive chef and owner, bun lai. he asked us what we liked and if we were game for a little adventure. he ordered for us off-menu and we had a fantastic meal—one of the best i’ve ever eaten.

this time, i wanted to recreate our adventure. i contacted the restaurant to see if bun would be there. he e-mailed and said to let him know when we made a reservation. he did not disappoint. the fish was supremely fresh. the preparation was innovative and imaginative. each dish blurred sublimely and seductively into the next.

we started with raw, warmed scallops in oyster sauce. tilapia with just a kick of heat accompanied by sliced cucumber so thin they were practically invisible. the tuna, so fresh and pink it was probably illegal in seven states, was encrusted with herbs and sauvignon blanc. the tuna was quickly followed by ivory obelisks of marlin. and then a dish he prepared based on nothing more than a musing: what if sushi had been invented in africa? an unleavened wheat crepe filled with crunch and spice and a touch of goat cheese to remind you sushi doesn’t necessarily have to be fish.

the pièce de résistance was a potato wrap with crabmeat. it was topped by what looked like a deep-fried japanese shore crab as its jaunty chapeau. paired with a lemon dill sauce drizzled on top, the little crab crunched like a potato chip as the whole ensemble was plated on lava rock in an itty-bitty tower.

all these wonderful morsels, a sort of pan-asian amuse bouche, were chased down with fruited beer cocktails, fermented sumac (no, not the poisonous kind) and a liquor made from pine needles.

these are the moments in life you remember most: a table full of friends and a belly full of great food.

life doesn’t get much better than that…

looking good...

i just bought some new sushi plates. (i ordered them online from crate & barrel and had them delivered only to remember that there’s a crate & barrel down the street. so much for decreasing my carbon footprint.)

you would think that i’d opened the door to balloons, tv cameras, and ed mcmahon holding an oversized check. nope. just sushi plates. but to me, they were the sweetest little thing in the mail. sleek white ceramic with a slight upturned edge, a small bas relief of swimming fish and ocean waves. beautiful.

it made me think: cooking is not just about the food. it’s all the fun that goes with it. it’s the presentation—all the pomp and circumstance . you can make the greatest pasta in the world. but if you don’t have a nice plate for it to sit atop, all you’ve got is a mound of glutenous wheat by-product on your table.

and think about the number of times you’ve looked at a cookbook, magazine or television show where the finished product is placed in front of you with a culinary flourish, et voilà. makes your mouth water, doesn’t it? who knows, maybe that dish of pad thai, grilled fish, or steak tartare tastes like crap. but if it looks good, you want to tear into it. maybe, if you like cooking as much as i do, it makes you want to shop for ingredients and prepare that same dish immediately.

either way, the point is still valid: food is nothing without the presentation. it’s not only got to smell good and taste good. it’s got to look good. it’s one of the things that makes cooking great: you use all your senses to experience it.

so pull out those good dishes. who cares if it’s a wednesday? use the good china.
don’t save them for a special occasion when every night can be a special occasion!

the greeks have it

i discovered the joys of greek yogurt less than a year ago. it’s creamy. it’s smooth. it’s thick and oh, so good with honey. in fact, i love it with honey. some people can take it plain. those must be the same people that enjoy their coffee black.

plain is simply joyless. there is no fun in plain yogurt. yogurt is meant to have stuff in it. why else would dannon put the fruit on the bottom? of course, commercial yogurts in the U.S. just don’t stand up to the greeks. it’s like comparing homemade pasta with kraft macaroni and cheese.

there are some who enjoy making their own yogurt. perhaps one day, i will take the challenge. in the meantime, i’m happy to skip over to trader joe’s and pick up a little tub of FAGE and call it a day. but for those who would like to give it a go, here’s a recipe for the homemade stuff from the New York Times:

4 cups whole or reduced-fat (2%) milk

2 tablespoons plain yogurt with live active cultures, greek or regular.

1. in a heavy medium saucepan over medium-high heat, bring the milk to a boil. remove from the heat and let the milk cool to 110 to 115 degrees on an instant read thermometer. transfer the milk to a ceramic container or pyrex pan.

2. place the yogurt in a cup. add 2 to 3 tablespoons of the warmed milk and stir to mix. pour the yogurt mixture into the milk and stir to mix. cover the container with a towel or a dinner plate. do not use an airtight cover, as the bacteria need to breath. set in a warm place (70 to 100 degrees), until the yogurt has set and the texture resembles flan or cheesecake, anywhere from 6 to 12 hours, or more, depending on the temperature and the quality of the starter. (an oven turned off with a pilot light is a good place or in a cabinet over a warm oven.) transfer to the refrigerator, cover tightly and use within 4 days. makes 1 quart.

3. don’t forget to put your yogurt through a cheese cloth or similar strainer to slough off the excess liquid. yogurt can get pretty sloppy.

enjoy!