Dreaming of Chassagne-Montrachet

Last night, I went to bed early... way too early. I was playing Call Of Duty: Black Ops when I started to feel a little hungry around 7pm. In between games, I scuttled back and forth to the kitchen, cut shallots, measured cups of rice, selected bay leaves, and opened chicken broth to whip up some rice pilaf. I had a USDA choice porterhouse steak in the fridge, and after the rice was done cooking, I took a break to make the steak. I planned on playing Call Of Duty for a few more hours, so I didn't open any wine (lest I dull my reflexes). Instead, I washed it all down with bottled water laced with Emergen-C powder.

Within an hour, I was feeling sluggish, then sleepy. I've noticed lately (ie the past couple of years) that eating a lot of rice makes me sleepy, and I suspect that it might be the precursor to diabetes. The heavy carb load overwhelms my system and I go into a food coma. I know some would say, "Well, dummy, if you know that, then why don't you just eat a smaller portion of rice?" Yeah, right. Instead, I fell asleep on my couch from 8:30pm to 3am. (So I guess when I say that I went "to bed" early," I mean "my couch.")


Most people find sleeping on my couch very comfortable, but I don't -- not compared to my pillow-top king-sized bed and down feather pillows. The initial discomfort lead to a weird dream: Danny Trejo, impersonating a police officer, pulled me over in a residential neighborhood for speeding. I had a suspicion that he wasn't really a cop because he was driving a Toyota Celica that had flashing red and blue lights on the dashboard. When he asked me for my licence and registration, I asked to see his badge. He quickly made some excuse, and then sent me on my way.

I woke up, uncomfortable because I couldn't splay out like I usually do in bed. But I was still sleepy enough that I couldn't be bothered to actually get up and go to my real bed. So I flipped over a couple of times, tucked my arm under my head, and got comfortable enough to fall back asleep. This led to my second dream.

Well, it wasn't so much a dream as it was a re-living of an evening from a few weeks ago.

Emily and I had just had dinner at the bar at Bottega in Yountville, and now we were back at my place sitting on the couch. I asked, "Red or white?" and she said, "White." I was delighted at the chance to open something white, because about 90% of the time, people opt for red wine. "Hey, is it okay if I open some white Burg?" I pulled my last bottle of 2003 "Tete de Cuvee" Chassagne-Monrachet from Verget.

I opened, poured, smelled, swirled, and then smelled again. From that moment, our little get together was instantly transformed into a memorable event.

"Oh, wow..." Emily said after deeply inhaling the wine.

She was sitting sideways at the end of the couch, snuggled into the corner pillows, with her legs tucked to the side. Her eyes closed for a few seconds after her first sip, searching for words, it seemed. But then her eyes opened and she just smiled. "Mmmmm," seemed to sum it all up.

"Oh my god," I said. "This is what chardonnay should be." Emily nodded.

My pronouncement, though, was more than a comment on the fact that I really liked this wine. I was expressing the fact that it was a seven year old chardonnay from Chassagne-Montrachet made in a style that, in my mind, is the antithesis of the California style.

When most Americans think of chardonnay, they think of young wines not more than a couple of years old. As a rule, we don't age chardonnay in this country. Indeed, most Americans don't even realize that chardonnay can be aged. I recall a day a few years ago when I was still working at the restaurant at Domaine Chandon, and one of the servers alerted me to a bottle of Chablis a guest had brought in and wanted me to open. "It's like three years old," the server said with a laugh. "You mean it's only three years old," I said, and she just gave me a confused look.

If you put my feet to the fire, I'll readily admit that Chassagne-Montrachet is my favorite region for chandonnay. Even though Puligny-Montrachet is considered more prestigious, I favor the fuller, more feminine style of Chassagne-Montrachet. This especially holds true when I compare the two regions through the lens of an older wine: I find that the bigger, more concentrated fruit in Chassagne-Montrachet helps to balance the acid in wines more than a few years old. (By the way, when I use the phrases "fuller style" or "bigger, more concentrated fruit," I'm not talking about anything approaching the California versions of those terms! I use those terms to describe the relative differences within white Burgundy.)

Anyway, back to this wine...

This 2003 Chassagne-Monrachet from Verget exhibited superb balance and elegance. Ripe (almost baked) apple, honey, almonds, and a touch of toast on the nose danced against the subtle minerality. The round acids in the background balanced freshness with maturity. The body was the perfect weight, the mouthfeel was the perfect silkiness sans unctousness.

So, yeah... that's what I dreamt about. This amazing wine was not only a beautful wine to end the year on, but it had the ability to enhance a wonderful evening. We sat, sipped on this Burgundy, talked for a few more hours by the light of my HD blu-ray fireplace, and before we knew it, it was 1am. I love that wines can be these magical potions with the power to transform a situation, and I only wish that it wasn't my last bottle of this wine.

Valrhona Chocolate Mousse in Chocolate Bags, Diced Mango, Hazlenut-Filled Pirouette Cookies, and Mint

New Years Eve was pretty quiet. In years past, I usually had to work, but even if I didn't, I don't usually celebrate NYE. In my mind, it's kind of a non-event. It's always such a let down after the countdown and everything in the world is exactly the same as it was a few seconds before.

Nicole had a few people over (including some new guy named Glen I had no idea she was dating) for a west coast pinot noir tasting and dinner. It was meant to be a potluck, so I volunteered to bring dessert. It being NYE and all, I wanted to do something fancy. But I was having trouble coming up with ideas and inspiration didn't hit until the morning of NYE.

I decided that the show piece would be chocolate "paper" bags... filled with something, I didn't know yet. I first saw this presentation many, many years ago. I guess "penny candy" (that's how old the idea is) used to be bought in miniature waxed paper bags, and pastry chefs would paint the insides of the bags with chocolate. Once the chocolate had set, they would tear away the bags and you'd have a chocolate form that looked like a little paper bag.

A few years ago, when I was working at The Restaurant at Domaine Chandon, I was reintroduced to the idea. The pastry chef would make these bags and then fill them with a raspberry milkshake and it would be served with a straw. Most people thought it was cool, but I didn't really think filling something that was supposed to look like a paper bag with a liquid made much sense.

Traditionally, the "bags" are laid on their sides and filled with berries, truffles, cookies, etc. so it looks like they're spilling out of the bag. But berries weren't in season, and I wanted something more luxurious than cookies or berries anyway. I decided to make and pipe in chocolate mousse using Valrhona chocolate, and then garnish with diced mango and a chiffonade of mint.

I guess they don't make the little waxed paper bags anymore, and instead, little cellophane bags are used. I found some at the local culinary/kitchen store here in Napa (Shackfords). They don't come folded with flat bottoms like the paper bags you use for kids' lunch bags. Instead, they are kind of like the bags that you'd buy baguettes in, where the bottom of the bag ends in a crease. To get them flat, I'd have to push a little box into the cellophane bags to form the flat bottom. I looked around my apartment for something that would be the right size. Funny enough, I found that the little box the Dom Perignon Champagne stoppers came in were the perfect size!

Once I formed all the bags, then it was a matter of melting the chocolate in a double boiler, using a pastry brush to paint the insides of each bag (making several passes), and then letting them set in the freezer. Sounds simple enough, but the whole process took almost three hours to complete 16 bags. By comparison, the chocolate mousse only took about 20 minutes to make.

Transporting the fragile chocolate bags from Napa to San Francisco was nerve wracking. I placed them in a milk crate and wedged loosely crumpled paper towels around the sides. The one thing I had going for me was the weather: it was winter, so I didn't have to worry about them melting (so long as I didn't turn on the heater in the car).

Assembling/plating the desert was pretty straightforward. Unmolding the chocolate from the cellophane is delicate business, so that took a few minutes. Aside from that, it was a snap.

Oh and those hazelnut creme filled pirouette cookies you see in the pictures? Pepperidge Farms. Yep.

Happy New Year!

Cyndi sent you a message on Facebook...

Between You and Cyndi Axxxxxx Rxxxxxxx

Subject: Deep Fried Turkey

Cyndi Axxxxx Rxxxxxxx
November 22 at 6:04pm
Do you have a good deep fried turkey recipe? I want to inject it, but dont really love the store bought kind...wondering if you have some magic up your sleeve...

I am gonna come up there one of these days, I will let you know. I would love to try your restaurant!

Happy Thanksgiving!
CC


Scooter Salvatierra
November 22 at 10:12pm

my parents have done fried turkeys a few times, but i'm more of a purist so i can't say that i've done it myself. i don't really have a recipe for you, but...

in culinary school, i had a chef who once told me that he injected a turkey with a special solution before frying it. he said that he took some duck fat and heated it up with rosemary (to release the rosemary oils). then he took two parts of the rosemary infused duck fat, two parts of rendered bacon fat, and one part simple brine... shook it up while it was still warm to kind of emulsify everything, and then injected it into the bird.

let me know what you end up doing and how it all turns out.
scooter

Is EaterSF turning into PETA?

Recently, EaterSF (the San Francisco Blog that keeps us up to date on restaurant openings/closing and when chefs move to a different restaurant) posted that The French Laundry was serving Bluefin tuna (which is considered an endangered species). Within days, EaterSF posted an update saying that TFL removed it from the menu and released statements through their PR people. And that prompted me to e-mail this to EaterSF:

I'm sure that a lot of people have weighed in on this subject, but I just wanted to add my voice to the din.

I think that it's abhorrent that EaterSF has taken such a political stance on this issue. More specifically, I'm offended that EaterSF is being used as a forum and a tool to exert pressure on restaurants to conform to your political agenda. If one, some, or all of the staff members at EaterSF feel strongly about a particular issue, that's fine. But I signed up to hear about restaurant openings and the movements of different chefs, not opinions on food ethics. It's a slippery slope, isn't it? What's next? Veal? Foie gras? Hydrogenated fats? GMO corn? Caviar?

To be clear: I am not trying to advocate a particular position on the Bluefin tuna debate. I am upset about EaterSF being used as a soapbox to pressure and influence
restaurants/chefs. I'm particularly disgusted with the sanctimonious relish of the abuse of power when I read, "That's right kids, in a matter of days, the lab-hatched wonder has been scrubbed..."

Thanks for listening, and keep up the otherwise great work.

-- Regards,

A Perfect Moment

I've long held the belief that our memories are the most precious things we have in our lives. As I get older I try to live consciously in the moment, and this allows me to recognize the moments that future memories are being forged. The cognizance of living-in-the-moment applies to both good and bad times, happy and stressful times, moments of great fortune and of terrible luck -- indeed, my point is that my effort to live-in-the-moment applies all of the time!

On very rare occasions, I encounter what I like to call "a perfect moment." These perfect moments can be triggered by different things. Sometimes it's a defining moment in my life. Sometimes it's an epiphany of self-awareness that leads to a better understanding of myself and my life. And sometimes, it's just one of those moments of perfect happiness when it all comes together.

My birthday was this past Wednesday, and for dinner, Taylor took me to La Toque. The great service and exceptional food and wine makes La Toque one of our favorite places for our dinner dates. But equally important is the quiet and subdued experience that allows us to create a private and romantic cocoon for a few hours.

I had brought a bottle of 1996 Dom Perignon Rose as a back-up bottle of Champagne, but luckily there was Krug "Grande Cuvee" available on the wine list. Grande Cuvee is the Champagne that, in many ways, is a symbol of my relationship with Taylor -- and when I put my nose to this wine, it reminds me of her. Luxuriously, we took our time, and we finished most of the bottle of Champagne before we eventually ordered three courses each.

And then, while enjoying my second course... it happened. A perfect moment.

Yes, I was sitting at La Toque on my birthday, eating seared foie gras, drinking Krug "Grande Cuvee," and holding hands with Taylor -- but it was more than that. It was a moment in the shadow of the fact that I had overworked myself for six-weeks, helping to open a restaurant. It was the luxury and ritual of fine-dining that contrasted working at Brick and Bottle. It was the fact that I had previously worked at La Toque and felt comfortable and at home. It was the dim lighting that helped form that romantic cocoon. It was the soothing sound of Miles Davis in the background. It was the softness of Taylor's skin, the sound of her voice, and the smell of her hair. And it was the love that I felt for this woman.

Perfect, indeed.

When the First Sip Is the Sommelier’s, Not Yours

A recent article in the New York Times discusses the practice of sommeliers tasting the bottle of wine that the guest has ordered before the guest tastes it.

Inevitably, it's reposted on Facebook and everyone registers their hate for the practice. But based on the comments and the discussion, it's obvious that no one actually reads the article. Everyone has the reactionary stance that somms are pretentious and are trying to steal some of their wine. Here's what I posted in response:

"I'm coming to the conversation a little late, but I'd like to weigh in and agree with Steve. The somm tasting the wine is a QUALITY CHECK of the wine and the specific bottle. It's not much different from cooks/chefs tasting the food before it's plated and sent to the guest.

"For whatever reason, there seems to be a distrust of sommeliers and an assumption that the tasting is done for selfish reasons. Just like the chef is tasting the food as a quality check and not because he's hungry, the somm is just looking out for the best interest of the guest and not trying to steal some of your wine. (More often than not, the last thing he wants to do is have to taste yet another bottle of $12 Sonoma Cutrer chardonnay.)

"It really doesn't have anything to do with "already knowing the wine" -- that is already assumed if it's on their wine list. Indeed, if it's a rare, very old, or an expensive bottle of wine, the somm is better qualified (ie experienced) to judge if the bottle is off or flawed. There can be a lot of bottle variation within the same wine/vintage, and there are a host of flaws that may exist in the bottle -- and this becomes more important to judge if the bottle is rare or very expensive.

"Some people might feel that it's presumptuous for the somm to feel that he's more qualified to judge the wine than the guest. But he IS, and that's why he's the somm. Just as the properly trained chef is more qualified when it comes to food, and your properly trained doctor is more qualified when it comes to your health and your body, the properly trained somm is more knowledgeable about wine and has more experience detecting flaws/variation in bottles of wine.

"When it comes to educating the public about the job and role of the sommelier, I know that there's still a lot of work to be done. I read the article a few days ago, and I really wish that it would have explained the reasons for the practice, and not just raised an inflammatory question."

Another Sleepless Night

it's 6:20 am and i have not been able to sleep all night. i hate this. i've been lynig in bed for hours trying to fall asleep and i finally got to the point where i felt like screaming so i got up and gave up on sleeping. usually, i'd just stay up if i'm not sleepy or can fall asleep. but i have a double to work in a few hours so i've been trying to get some rest.

i hate this.

i was feeling so frustrated that i just wanted to talk to somebody about it -- i just needed a shoulder to cry on -- but everyone's asleep and it not right for me to wake someone up just to whine, and in the process deprive them of sleep.

these hours in the middle of the night when i can't sleep are the loneliest part on my life. even when i have lived with someone, and she's lying asleep next to me, i can't wake her just to keep me company. i'm always alone at during these hours, and i hate it.

and the other thing that sucks is that no one understands -- especially at work. if i'm late a few minutes because i've overslept, or if i have to call in "sick" because i haven't slept in two days, everyone just thinks i'm slacking off, or that i'm lazy. they don't understand that i'd sacrifice a lot of things to have a normal life, but it just ain't in the cards.

instead of 32 hours of sleep in the last four nights, i've gotten a total of about 13 hours. and in a couple of hours, i've got to get ready for work and then start a 14 hour shift on my feet.

ever fantasize about what you would ask for if you had three wishes and you could wish for anything? well, if i had just ONE wish... this would be it. "I wish I could have a normal sleep schedule, where I would get sleepy at night and then sleep for 8 hours and then get up in the morning, feeling refreshed." it sounds like a simple wish, but i'd want that more than a million dollars, and i'd want that more than the perfect woman.

i just want to sleep.