Doktor Weingolb

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The plan was to blog but I stopped fighting the weak wireless signal that gave me the Internet one minute and totally disconnected me the next. So I decided to leave the laptop in my room and hit New York hard. While that made for a bit of gap in my blogging, I now have lots to say about my five-day getaway, including a few juicy tidbits about wine and food.

Consider this update as five posts in one (use the anchored links at top to navigate through it -- it's lengthy). I hope this makes up for the recent inactivity.

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First of all, as I alluded to my last post, New York City is fiery hot pit of asphalt and sweat in the summer months, especially when you are caught in Midtown or on a subway platform, or worst of all in Midtown on subway platform (Warning: Never take an uptown train from the 47th-50th Streets/Rockefeller Center station without a towel). What I discovered is that but just 10 streets down from that sauna stop on the B, C, F and V line, I discovered an oasis of refreshment and air-con at the corner of 37th Street and Madison Avenue, also known as the Morgan Library & Museum. The collection alone is well worth the price of admission, but what I went in for was its fantastic café which is at the centre of this amazing building complex.

As you can tell from the photo I posted at the top of this entry, the food is just as inviting as the cool and airy space of the café (pictured below), which the Morgan website accurately describes as "a casual dining atmosphere in the glass-enclosed central court, evoking European alfresco dining." You bet, alfresco! This is by far the greatest place for a picnic during the dog days of summer. Save Central Park for less humid weather.



The brilliant thing is that the Morgan Café emulates a real outdoor courtyard: the high ceiling is composed of a lattice of glass and steel slats, there are trees amid the small dining tables, and on exceptionally warm days like when I was there last week, the sunlight enters the space in bearable measured amounts through the help of automatically shifting shades along the glass structure (follow part of that transition in the photos below).



As for the café menu, plenty of picnic-perfect choices but my order of a plate of cold cuts, goat's cheese and olives is an amazing deal. For only $8 you get to make a couple of your own prosciutto and salami sandwiches (just slap on the cheese and that lettuce onto the complimentary rolls they offer you!) and for $7 more, get a glass of wine. (I felt like I won the lottery the instant this $15 alfresco feast started -- surely you can do no better in Manhattan.)

I chose the Château Routas Rouvière Coteaux Varois 2006, a salmon-coloured rosé from France's Provence region. It was thirst-quenching, quite dry and very likable alongside the spicy marinaded olives and salty cured meats. It had a drinkable table-ready style that some alcohol-drenched rosés from Provence don't handle as deftly. Light and appetizing, this wine is meant for casual lunches when it's really hot out. But I don't need to tell you that. See more detailed notes on this wine.

With this kind of fuel I had energy to wine-shop...

MÂCON, MÂCON-VILLAGES, AND THE MANY RESOURCEFUL TOWNS SOUTH OF THE CÔTE D'OR

My initial instinct was to take a tip from Eric Asimov and so I went for white Mâcon -- Burgundy's best summertime deal. If wine is your bag, Mr Asimov is much-respected and hard-to-miss in the blogosphere. Of all his recent recommendations, I'm finding these white Burgundies to be the most up my alley.

I love this style of Chardonnay, which is full of mineral and bright citrus flavours, though some deem it too light. I happen to value light, and not just because it often translates to light-on-the-wallet. This is Eric's point about Mâcon and its hinterland, known on the label as Mâcon-Villages.

While the results are not yet in on any specific Mâcon bottles (for that please refer to Eric's notes), I can report that New York definitely has better price-points on these wines than here in Quebec. These $12 bottles in Manhattan routinely convert to $20 bottles here in Montreal (and this is not usually the case with most French wines). Expect tasting reports for some Mâcons soon around here, most imminently for the one pictured here!

MACON, MACON & STUYVESANT, AND THE MANY GREEN STREETS OF BEDFORD-STUYVESANT

When I met the wine-wonderful Brooklynguy for lunch in TriBeCa, we discussed our common interest in wine and love for MTA buses. They are certainly cooler transportation than the subway and are routed all around the city and its four boroughs. To get to Macon Street in Brooklyn's Bed-Stuy neighbourhood, buses are the best means of public transit and, much to the glee of Brooklynguy, I recounted how I traveled along the #43 - Franklin, the #48 - Lorimer and the #25 - Halsey.

Why do us winos like buses so much? Besides being street-level and perfectly temperature-controlled (most of the time), they are wine-shopping-friendly, or to put it more precisely, they are bottle-friendly. This is because they have padded interiors and are rather spacious if you like to buy by the case. Most importantly the differential in ambient temperature between a shaded bus stop and the coach is a lot less bottle-shocking than sweltering subway platform and meat-locker train car. (Also the bus is more personable, even when you haven't got a supply of wine on you: just before getting off at Classon Avenue, a kind Bed-Stuy rider pointed out all the globs of sunscreen smudged across my face that I had missed smoothing out.)

Brooklynguy, being the generous and knowledgeable guy that he is, suggested I take advantage of a rare Beaujolais while I could and snap up the Domaine du Vissoux Pierre-Marie Chermette Beaujolais 2005. It's not that difficult to find in Manhattan. I would certainly get it again. It's an unfiltered wine and you can sense it immediately, as in I-can't-believe-it's-not-Beaujolais-cru. My uptown hosts thought it was bold, round, rich and delicious. A hit from an advised expert... check out the full review on Brooklynguy's Wine and Food Blog.

A HEAVY FAVOURITE FROM LANGUEDOC-ROUSSILLON

I have never met Alice Feiring, New York-based wine enthusiast of great expertise and integrity, though she has responded to my brusque queries and desperate emails. She is the one who saved New Year's Eve for us when we hadn't a clue where to take our Cervaro Castello della Sala Antinori Chardonnay for a hopping good time. Well, Alice answered that question and supplied so many more reliable suggestions, like this next wine pick, for instance.

Yes, it was a total no-brainer to instantly buy the Domaine des 2 Ânes Fontanilles 2004 when I happened past it at Astor Wines & Spirits. She wrote about it as an everyday wine with substantial value back in February so I wasn't sure it would still be in supply. Luckily it does seem to be quite well stocked. But unfortunately, it's put into one of those extra heavy bottles that sit in your bag like a stone and makes you wonder why you're schlepping around so much weight at a free jazz concert staged in Washington Square Park. My advice: Make your purchase on the way home rather than when setting out. Astor's open till 9 pm every weeknight.

I'D LIKE A SIX-DAY VERNACCIA IN NEW YORK

For THE best Vernaccia di San Gimignano that gets made you've got to try Mormoraia. It's a little more expensive than most Vernaccia varietals at about $16 per bottle but it does taste like the height of Vernaccia di San Gimignano, a grape that gets very little respect.

Respect is something that it may not need if pure aromatic refreshment comes this easily and this cheaply. In the Mormoraia Vernaccia di San Gimignano 2006 you also get great balance, nutty depth and a profound finish for an otherwise lightweight varietal. I wish I could've brought back more of this across the border. I certainly could've afforded more. As it stands on my map, I've clearly marked down New York Wine Co. (it's 21 Warren Street near the Chambers Street subway station), the Lower Manhattan wine shop that sold me this great stuff.

WHERE TO TAKE YOUR WINE PICKS OUT TO DINNER . . .

And to save the best for last, there's Petite Crevette, the longtime fish-specialty restaurant on Hicks Street in Brooklyn. I had the pleasure of taking a friend of mine out for a birthday lunch there even though she does not eat fish. Fish lover or not, this is a cozy little nook that charms you and sates you, thanks to Neil Ganic, "a chef who has a knack for turning out satisfying, homey but refined dishes that value flavor over frills."

Here's a guy who can single-handedly chat up your table and whip up a codfish burger at the same time. That neither one comes out overdone, rushed, or inauthentic makes this restaurant a true winner. Evenings are much busier so if you like the welcoming chit-chat and attention, definitely try it for lunch. Also definitely bring you own bottle of wine. There's none of those huge corkage fees here. Perhaps a vivacious and slightly rustic Greco di Tufo dei Feudi di San Gregorio 2004 to handle the flavourful fish and mouth-watering appetizers (two words: Cremini mushrooms!) as well as all the other non-seafood plates that are served.

From the Appellation America entry on Gamay:

Given a more standard red wine fermentation, Gamay can produce more serious wines. The best examples come from ten small ‘Cru’ villages in the Beaujolais hills, particularly those from the commune of Moulin-a-Vent. The wines made here often can age in the medium term, gaining mature Pinot Noir-like qualities.

The Louis Tête Morgon "Les Charmes" 2004 has a powerful red berry aroma that you notice as soon as you open the bottle. Then when you taste it, there's a hint of pepper that you might expect from the land where the Rhône reaches up to Burgundy. Since this wine was not aged at all, I wasn't looking for any Pinot Noir impressions. Instead I was looking for why Beaujolais has been praised as the food-friendliest of wines.

Viewing it in the glass this is clearly Beaujolais, lightly pigmented and almost vermillion in colour. It has strong complexity on the palate and while the finish is balanced, it has such a tart, bracing grip I could see why a blind taster might mistake this for a white wine. Close your eyes and the colour red is gone.

A WINE THAT CHARMS A MEAL, A WINE THAT HARMS A MEAL

Nevertheless this wine intrigued me. Dining on a highly-seasoned salmon filet with basil pasta and blanched broccoli, I imagined myself buying more of this wine. But then I tasted it again on the following evening with virtually the same meal, substituting trout instead of salmon and turnip instead of pasta (lightest of wines and heftiest of root vegetables does not make for a good complement so avoid turnip and Gamay combinations -- you probably don't need to try this to believe me). The trout was delicious but "Les Charmes" had faded into a citrusy and piquant shadow of what it was the previous evening.

Personally, I am not sold on the idea that this style of wine is the perfect food wine. Light-bodied but earthy Loire reds, often touting Cabernet Franc, seem to better fill that role. As for this Beaujolais, drink young and drink now, I guess. Charming ain't a long-term investment, cru du Beaujolais or not. (Speaking of "cru" designations, I didn't realize that even this Duboeuf was a cru.)

"Les Charmes" is among the first Old World reds now appearing on shelves in the 2005 vintage. While the 2004 is still available, if you are in Quebec you might notice them disappearing fast. Michel Phaneuf gave it one the best reviews for a 2004 Beaujolais.

St-Didier, Beaujeu, France. 13%.

The distinctive bottle shape of Beaujolais wine is striking. Moulded into a kind of long and pointy bowling pin or one of those clubs that jugglers at the circus toss around, you might only see these wines on the shelves in your store that come with extra headroom. Once you have located that shelf, you might want to investigate these unique bottles even further. A label shaped like a ribbon drapes around the neck of some vintages, reading: "Le millésime du soleil," or 2003: The Year of the Sun. Duboeuf in particular has touted this pedigree on its wares. I quite like this. It's intriguing. It makes idyllic reference to the massive (and really quite horrific) heatwave that Europe suffered during the summer two years ago. To me, the tagline adds mystique and some allure. But I suppose that if all vintages could tag themselves with a mystical or grandiloquent claim to fame then things might escalate into an Aussie shouting match with a few punching kangaroos. And poor use of the idea might not fly: Take "2002 - Le millésime du déluge" (The Year of the Flood), for example. But if a winemaker was to promote a certain crop by conjuring up some appropriate historical or socio-cultural aspects, I'm sure I'd be the sucker who buys it.

And so I bought this. The Georges Duboeuf Régnié 2003 definitely makes a case for vintage taglines. Who doesn't feel like taking a trip back to the year of the sun right about now? After all, it's the winter solstice and darkest time of the year. I went for it and don't feel suckered one little bit. This is lusty and fruit-filled Beaujolais at its best. So get this vintage while you still can. The Gamay it's made from turns in a strong performance. It's not as light as you would think. I paired the wine with fairly bold dishes. Grilled pork chops with garlic, oregano and red onions, and then on the second night, a vegetable lasagne chock-full of roasted flavours. Great Beaujolais. But I contend the biggest revelation in drinking this wine was a general idea on decanting. This bottle makes for just one of the steady stream of 2003's from Europe I've been opening lately and as a result my inkling is turning into something more solid. I'm beginning to think that the rule for these 2003 vintages -- and by this I mean virtually any European red in 2003 -- is to thoroughly aerate your wine for maximum enjoyment. This is a year that definitely had lots cookin'. Don't be afraid to let it out of the bottle at length to best enjoy its full character.

Six days before the unveiling of the 2004 Rézin cuvées, there was another highly anticipated release: the 2005 vins nouveaux. Unlike the Cuvée Rézin Blanc - P St-Vincent 2004, which is sold out, and will remain unavailable for least a couple of months, the 2005 vins nouveaux continue to languish on store shelves. And these "wines of the latest vintage" were out the earliest!

I'm not a big fan of the whole vin nouveau thing. It was conceived in the 1950s as a marketing ploy. If knowing that is not enough to turn me off, then tasting the stuff seals the deal. Yet the phenomenon has its followers as well as its detractors.

Taking a clever stance somewhere in the middle is the Première Moisson bakery chain: Not really a "Nay" or an "Aye" but more like a "We'll boil the stuff and make it good." With that idea in mind, and perhaps a little marketing ploy of their own, Première Moisson has been baking a little vin nouveau into their delicious loaves, which I think is a tremendous idea. Darn tasty too, so if you find this distinctive red loaf, get it. It's not surprising that the French have recognized this Quebec bakery as world-class. They can take plonk and make it fit for a king. Unfortunately, I have not seen any more pain au vin nouveau in their shops. I suppose it was a limited-time offering that coincided with the wine's sudden annual appearance, which is always a Thursday late in the month of November. If some of these Beaujolais keep hanging around the SAQ through the holidays, then I would encourage the bakers at Première Moisson to nip out for some more and put their magic recipe back in action.

Backwash
I let the Loire provenance of the Cuvée réZin rouge - E. Excoffier 2004 fool me. There's no Cabernet Franc in this table wine at all. The Loire grape that makes strong showing is actually Gamay. Syrah, Cinsault and Grenache from the Rhône get blended into the cuvée too. My apologies and another thumb's-up to Thierry Puzelat and the fine folk at réZin.

Yesterday I may have done readers another disservice by not listing the coordinates of Daylight Factory -- it's officially listed as Café Daylight Factory, just so you know. On top of that omission, I may have also done the café an injustice (Disservice + Injustice = Bad first day on the blog). I called it swanky when it's actually a grand-prize winner in the Commerce Design Montréal contest. This bar was remarkably transformed from loading dock. That explains the interesting two-tiered topography. I think I called it swanky because the levels reminded me of a Hollywood sound stage. Not that swanky is bad anyway. Check out the little panorama movie on the link above for a look.