Valentine wines
Lily Bollinger
February 11, 2014 This is not a list of wines that I think you should have on Valentine’s Day. I would never be so presumptuous, other than to recommend Champagne, which I always recommend anyway. Lily Bollinger’s quote bears repeating: “I only drink champagne when I”m happy, and when I’m sad. Sometimes I drink it when I’m alone. When I have company, I consider it obligatory. I trifle with it if I am not hungry and drink it when I am. Otherwise I never touch it – unless I”m thirsty.” La veuve (widow) Bollinger was one of several 20th Century Champagne widows who helped shape the modern Champagne industry. You can read about it here.
Now if you are talking about starting the day right, I would definitely recommend Champagne over just about any other alcoholic beverage. Actually I think it may the only alcohol I drink in the morning. My friend Sally, who hails from Tifton, Georgia, once called brunch “an ugly word for an ugly meal.” It’s certainly not one I go to restaurants for, though I do love to have a late, leisurely breakfast — or to serve egg dishes at any time of day or night. (Eggs are what I would take on the proverbial deserted island if I were allowed only one food.) I have posted over a dozen entries on Champagne on this blog, so there’s no reason for me to make suggestions now. I am living in China and I buy what I can get, at twice US prices!
But I do want to suggest some wines to go with the foods that I wrote about on the blog yesterday — a version of Eggs Benedict with asparagus and a parsley soup — and with either, Champagne would be perfect! Why? Because Champagne is more acidic than most wines and to complement the fatty sauce, the rich ham, and the protein wallop of eggs, you need acid. Champagne grapes are generally picked sooner than other wine grapes, when they have more acid and less sugar. If you think of wine as a part of the meal — as important, say, as the mustard on a hot dog — then you are well on your way to understanding how to pair wines with foods. Wine is of course more than a condiment, but think of how the sprinkle of lemon juice on a piece of Spanish mackerel cuts through the fat and brings out the flavor of the fish itself. That’s part of what the wine you choose to go with your meal should do. No wonder you see so many bottles of Champagne at Galatoire’s in New Orleans at lunch time — people are ordering it not just to be festive, but because it complements the Shrimp Remoulade, the Asparagus Hollandaise, and the Lyonnaise Potatoes. (On the flip side of this equation, bold, gamey foods crave something with forward fruit to round out the flavors, but tannins and acid are the real flavor enhancers. But more on fruit in wine on another day.)
First asparagus of the season, Sichuan, China.
Asparagus is notoriously difficult to pair with wine. There are certain chemicals in it that can make wine taste like cabbage or worse. Probably the same chemicals that affect human urine — though not everyone is affected and not everyone can smell the amazingly immediate effects. Wikipedia notes: “There is debate about whether all—or only some—people produce the smell, and whether all (or only some) people identify the smell. It was originally thought this was because some of the population digested asparagus differently from others, so some people excreted odorous urine after eating asparagus, and others did not. In the 1980s three studies from France, China, and Israel published results showing that producing odorous urine from asparagus was a common human characteristic. The Israeli study found that from their 307 subjects all of those who could smell ‘asparagus urine’ could detect it in the urine of anyone who had eaten asparagus, even if the person who produced it could not detect it.However, a 2010 study found variations in both production of odorous urine and the ability to detect the odor, but that these were not tightly related. It is believed most people produce the odorous compounds after eating asparagus, but only about 22% of the population have the autosomal genes required to smell them.” I know this: it’s immediate with me, and as much as I love asparagus, if I’m going to drink any wine with it, it has to be something crisp and refreshing like Pinot Blanc or unoaked Chardonnay or, best yet, Champagne! It’s also a good idea to serve asparagus with rich sauces like the Hollandaise that I recommended and/or with a rich, cured meat like prosciutto. You can also grill the asparagus to give it a hint of char, but I would still stick with an acidic white wine.
Of course all that really matters is what you like. If you are serving a dish that you love and a wine that you love, chances are you will be okay with your pairing. About 15 years ago at Maculan Winery in northern Italy, I had an amazing experience with asparagus and one of their wines. I incorporated it into an as-of-yet unpublished novel I am working on that is set in the 90s:
She had two opened, chilled bottles of Italian whites with her and a bundle of fresh, local asparagus. “Taste this,” she said, pouring me a glass of a straw-colored wine that gave off a slight almond-like smell. “What do you think?”
I took a sip and there just wasn’t much to think about. “What is this, Frascati?”
“Yep. Frascati. I’ve been looking for a Vin Santo, which has to be sold in South Carolina by the liquor distributors, but, other than Serge, they’re such huge conglomerates now. It’s not the salesmen’s fault. I’m sure they looked up Vin Santo and found that it’s made from Trebbiano and Malvasia and so they brought me Malvasia. Really, it’s not their fault. Trebbiano and Malvasia can refer to any number of different grapes. But the last thing I need with my northern Italian fish dishes is this watery wine from Lazio. Thank God I have Serge, is all I can say.”
“What’s the other wine?” I asked, pouring the Frascati out onto the ground in my courtyard as I tossed the asparagus on the grill.
“Oh, it’s delicious. Serge and Bobby and I went to the winery, but they already had distribution here. It’s Maculan’s Breganze di Breganze. It’s mostly Tocai. It’s the one wine that I think will hold up to asparagus. I guess we’ll see.”
I put my nose down in the glass. I’ve never been a fan of Hungarian Tokays. They’re just too sweet for me. “This is Tokay?”
“Tocai Friulano. It’s a totally different grape. If they ever let Hungary in the E.U., there will be problems with the nomenclature. What do you smell?”
“Salt and hay.”
“Classic. Now taste it.”
I swirled a good sip around in my mouth and took in a little wisp of air, then swallowed. Weird. “Vanilla custard?”
“Now taste the asparagus and tell me what you think.” This is how she would teach me, for years to come.
I tasted the asparagus and it was remarkably, well, asparagus-y. I knew that it had been just-picked, or Jackie wouldn’t have bothered to bring it over. And it was getting toward the end of the seaon. I shrugged my shoulders, not knowing what to say.
“Now taste the wine again,” she said, as she poured herself a glass.
“It’s so creamy, but that custardy thing is gone. But there’s salt. And wildflowers. More like a really fragrant herb flower. I can’t believe it’s not destroyed by the asparagus!”
“Do you have any prosciutto or country ham? I want to taste it with something salty. I know it’s not right for this crab, but can’t you just taste it with some prosciutto wrapped around a poached asparagus? Forget the charred edges and imagine them replaced with sweet and salty ham. I just know that saline thing will disappear and you’ll get a mouth full of fruit.”
I didn’t have the ham but I could taste what she was conjuring. “Oh, my God! That’s brilliant!”
With the Maculans at their winery
But neither I nor the character in the book could take credit: it was how the Maculans served us asparagus at the winery. And, sure enough, Hungary joined the E.U. and now the Maculans no longer make Breganza di Breganza and the Hungarians insisted that they stop calling tocai friulano by that name (it’s now called “tai” and blended with other grapes). But you might try one of their other whites — their Chardonnay, their Sauvignon Blanc (if you’re into that grape… but I think that will accent the grassiness of asparagus), or the Bidibi, which is 60% Tai.
With the parsley soup, I would also recommend sparkling wine or a Chardonnay — even a rich one from California. If you really want a red with it, I would go with a Cru Bourgeois Médoc. This classification was totally revised a few years ago and I am not up-to-date on all the revisions, but back in the day, as they say, Château Greysac was my affordable, go-to Bordeaux in the classic Médoc blend of 65% Merlot, 30% Cabernet Sauvignon, and 5% Petit Verdot. Or thereabouts. In fact, it was nearly everyone’s affordable, go-to Bordeaux because for many years, it was the one that was always available and always good. I can’t begin to imagine how many cases of this quaffable wine Debbie Marlowe and I have downed! Again, Happy Valentine’s Day!