At St. Vincent (San Francisco), David Lynch is a Dædalus among sommeliers

Our meal at the amazing St. Vincent in San Francisco — conceived and directed by Daedalian sommelier and wine writer David Lynch — began with two eggs: one bathed in beet and horseradish, the other in curry and turmeric. If only for their Technicolor, I knew that I wouldn’t be disappointed by the food and wine that would follow.

Had I the means, I would gather all the young wine and restaurant professionals in the U.S. and take them to San Francisco to see how it is superbly done by David Lynch, one of the leading sommeliers in the nation right now (as always), veteran of some of the most storied venues in the contemporary history of American restaurateurship.

Granted, David knows me and my palate, and so when I asked him to pick out a wine for us, I wasn’t surprised when he swiftly delivered the Clos du Papillon Savennières above, “not as extreme” as our beloved Joly, he noted, but no less nuanced or thrilling (and perhaps more graceful and focused).

I was equally impressed by the deft hand of chef Bill Niles, to whom David graciously attributed sole authorship of the menu. The “She Crab” (actually lobster in the current season) was adorned with a dollop of sea urchin liver, Carolina rice, and corn chowder. I ate every last drop.

The eggplant roulades, alone, would be worth a return trip. I loved that chef Niles peels his tomatoes for this dish and I’d be remiss in not noting that this was possibly the best tomato I’ve tasted all year.

Chef Niles may draw from a Technicolor palette of culinary experiences and techniques but he also seems to love some of life’s simplest “street-food” pleasures, like this classic pretzel. I dug the juxtaposition of the elegance of his eggplant and the sheer pedestrian delight of the pretzel.

David named his new restaurant (opened just a few months ago) after St. Vincent of Saragossa, one of the patron saints of grape-growers, often invoked by wine- and vinegar-makers.

(Of course, I couldn’t help myself from reading up on why St. Vincent is considered patron of wine and vinegar.)

He is often depicted (St. Vincent, not David) with vines or grape bunches. Although there’s no element in hagiography that would associate him with grapes or grape-growing, his feast day, January 22, is celebrated in wine-growing France as the beginning of the vegetative cycle.

There are a number of French sayings uttered on that day, like quand Saint Vincent est beau, abondance pour le tonneau (when [the weather on] Saint Vincent is fair, there will be [an] abundance [of wine] for the casks).

Like so many examples of pseudo-Catholic folklore, his association with wine is purely arbitrary and can be attributed to the date of his commemoration (in the Greek Orthodox Church, he is remembered on November 11).

There’s nothing arbitrary about the way David runs his new restaurant and it was fantastic to watch him in his habitat (as the Italians say), greeting a guest, explaining a menu item, and serving a Savennières to a very happy wine blogger…

Image via La Chouette.

A16 still rocking it big time (and an awesome Gaglioppo rosé)

Above: A16 was opened in 2004 and continues to stand apart even after eight years on the cutting edge. On Saturday night, with the restaurant packed to the gills, the margherita pizza — a litmus test for any Italian restaurant — was exceptional.

One of the things that impressed me the most about my trip to San Francisco last week was the complete and utter across the board professionalism of the food and wine professionals I met with.

Even though you’ll find some of the greatest expressions of American and pseudo-European gastronomy in New York and Los Angeles, there is no U.S. city — in my view — that can rival the confluence of world-class service and informed, intelligent, and thrilling wine and food that you find in San Francisco.

When I visited A16 on Saturday night, I was greeted at the door by wine director and owner Shelley Lindgren, who was holding a tray with three spritzers on it.

In the bustle of this high-profile restaurant at 8 p.m. on a Saturday night, a guest proceeded to brush by her, knocking the tray to the floor and the cherry-red spritzers all over Shelley’s white pants. Without missing a beat, Shelley looked up and smiled at the guest, who was mortified. She told her, “o please don’t worry about it! It’s no problem at all! Please enjoy your dinner.”

There are many reasons why A16 continues to pack them in every night. And this is just one of them.

Above: I was so geeked to taste this rosé from Gaglioppo, a wine that I’d been reading about all summer on Shelley’s Facebook. Friggin’ delicious… and a perfect pairing with my pizza.

I owe so much to Shelley. When she opened A16 back in 2004, she was the first wine director in the U.S. to offer her guests an exclusively southern Italian wine list. At that time, no one thought it could be done. Naysayers would ask: what are you going to do about white wine? what about sparkling wine? where are you going to source all the wine you need? and what about wines for your reserve list?

A lot has changed since then. There is a lot more southern Italian wine available in the U.S. today and more and more producers of fine wines from regions like Campania and Basilicata and Calabria are finding their way to the U.S. market.

But there’s no doubt in my mind that Shelley’s work has had a lot to do with this new wave of southern Italian wine in Italy. And there’s no doubt in my mind that her legacy made it possible for me to create my dream list at Sotto in Los Angeles.

“You know,” I said to her jokingly when she visited our table, “one of the reasons why I’m here is so that I can poach wines from your list.”

“That’s what it’s here for,” she told me, “that’s what it’s all about.”

Chapeau bas, Shelley. In my book, you are a model of food and wine professionalism.

Stay tuned: David Lynch’s new St. Vincent is on deck for tomorrow…

“If it’s on my list, it has to taste Italian,” Eric Lecours, Donato Enoteca (Redwood City)

In my experience, the greatest thing about wine blogging is the sense of community, solidarity, and camaraderie that it creates.

I’ve “known” Eric Lecours, wine director at the excellent Donato Enoteca in Redwood City, since 2007 when he first began commenting on my blog. I write “known” because for the first five years of our friendship, we never met in person, even though we regularly traded notes about wines we liked and wines that piqued our curiosity.

We finally connected and tasted together last night over a superb meal that began with baccalà mantecato (above), creamed salt cod, a dish that spoke to my Venetophilia. It’s so hard to achieve the right balance of saltiness and texture in this dish and chef Donato Scotti, who likes to remind his guests that his hometown Bergamo was once the last outpost of the Most Serene Venetian Republic, nailed it. Utterly delicious…

Calamari and broad bianchi di Spagna beans.

I had tasted this wonderful skin-contact Trebbiano d’Abruzzo by Crognaleto in LA the day before the with the importer. It’s going on to Eric’s list as well as my list at Sotto in LA in the fall.

The spaghetti al nero di seppia topped with bottarga was one of the best things I’ve eaten all year. Japanese guests, Eric said, rave about it and I can see why.

The housemade pasta at Donato is exceptional. The agnolotti are Donato’s signature dish. Note the plin (the pinch) that forms the dimple.

“My number one rule is that if it’s on my list, it has to taste Italian,” said Eric. Words to live by.

The 2004 Roagna Barbaresco Pajé is so gorgeous right now, with red fruit that dances atop eucalyptus and sage, very fresh and bright at this moment in its evolution. A 375ml was an ideal complement for the roast pork loin medallions shared by Zanotto and me.

Dulcis in fundo… I hate to break it to all the hipster mixologists out there: amaro doesn’t belong in a cocktail. It’s meant to cleanse the palate and encourage digestion at the end of a great meal.

Chapeau bas, Eric. Thank you for the thrilling meal and the friendship (no longer virtual).

soba!

We took Georgia P to our favorite Japanese restaurant in Los Angeles these days, K-ZO.

She LOVED soba noodles and it was amazing to see her slurp them up. She’d never had a long noodle before but she innately knew how to eat them. So much fun…

Heading back to Texas today… see you on the other side… :)

Mario Batali’s joke on Bill Clinton (and great charcuterie in La Jolla @ArriciaMarket)

Yesterday, Bobby Pascucci (above) shared some of his excellent porchetta di testa (below) with me at his new Ariccia Italian Market in La Jolla.

His testa (pig’s head) brought to mind a salacious tale often retold in New York restaurant circles about President Clinton’s first visit to Babbo.

It’s a little too racy for Do Bianchi but my editors at the Houston Press didn’t bat an eye when I asked them if I could post it there.

Here’s the link (WARNING CONTAINS ADULT CONTENT).

06 Barolo Garblèt Sué, birthday fiorentina & the aeration condom

This year’s birthday celebration centered around a porterhouse cooked alla fiorentina: the steak is cooked upright so that the T in the t-bone release its flavor and the entire steak heats through without cooking the sirloin and tenderloin. This year, Tracie P bought me the steak three days before my birthday and we dry-aged it in the fridge (you just put it on a plate, uncovered, and let it dry out). It’s the simplest thing but it makes such a big difference in the tenderness and flavor of the beef.

When you see the marrow begin to bubble in the bone, quickly grill the steak on either side at high heat.

We paired with a bottle of 2006 Barolo Garblèt Sué by Brovia, one of my all-time favorite Nebbiolo growers and bottlers.

The Garblèt Sué vineyard is on the Bricco Fiasco and its name comes from the name of the farm that lies below, Garbelletto Superiore. (The dialectal inflection of the toponym, Garblèt Sué, was authorized in new legislation that went into effect in 2010 allowing for added geographical mentions, as they are called in red-tape jargon.)

Honestly, the wine was still very tight, even though I had opened it early in the day to let it aerate. But that didn’t diminish our enjoyment of this classic expression of Barolo from Castiglione Falletto, the township that lies virtually in the center of the appellation and is known for its balance of elegance and fruit (imparted by the more generous Tortonian soils to the west of the Barolo-Alba road) and opulence and tannic structure (delivered by the austere Helvetian soils to the east). Even though this wine wasn’t anywhere near its peak, a Saturday night with a Barolo by Brovia is always an undeniable and unforgettable treat for me (thanks again, Tracie P!). This was the second 2006 by Brovia that I’ve tasted this year and I’ve been impressed with how fresh and bright the vintage is showing from Langa.

Beyond the new flip flops (much needed) and the gorgeous brown agate cufflinks (much appreciated) that Tracie P gave me for my birthday this year, she has given me the greatest gift that anyone ever could: our little Georgia P, whose smile could light an entire city block and whose sweetness can wash away even the bluest blues.

We have so much to be grateful for and this year’s celebration of my birthday (my forty-fifth year!) reminded me of how rich our lives have been in the last year and a half. I love both of them so very much…

In other news…

Over at the Houston Press this morning, I explain why I don’t decant wines like the Garblèt Sué and offered a trick for allowing wine to breath over the course of the entire day: the “aeration condom,” I call it.

Thanks for reading and thanks for all the birthday wishes on the Facebook and the Twitter! :)

Georgia P’s first pasta!

Tracie P has been chronicling our “baby-led weaning” here and it’s been a lot of fun: twice a day, Georgia P sits in her high chair and we offer her different foods to eat. She loves yogurt (with blueberries), her mango phase is already over, avocados are still in, steak is king and chicken is fun, too, and she even likes baba ghanoush!

But you can imagine the anticipation — for two food lovers and Italophiles — on the evening and occasion of her first pasta (above).

Tracie P had picked organic wholewheat fusilli at Central Market (our local crunchy-feely gourmet store) and I made a summer pomodoro using tomatoes, onion, and garlic from our community-supported-agriculture farmer at Tecolote Farm (who delivers a basket of fresh produce each week).

I only lightly salted the sauce and the pasta cooking water (because salt is a concern) and of course, I overcooked the pasta (so it would be mushy enough) and I let it cool before we served it to her.

She seemed to like it and ate maybe three or four fusilli before she lost interest.

It wasn’t the first time she ate something that I had prepared (she DEVOURED thinly sliced steak I had grilled for her the other day). But, man, what an emotion to feed Georgia P pasta for the first time!

Thanks for letting me share…

A Michelin guide for Houston? @TonyVallone @TerraUomoCielo

Photo via Spread Some Awesome.

When I took Giovanni to eat at Tony’s last week, he turned to me mid-meal and asked discreetly, “how many stars does Tony have in the Michelin guide?”

When I explained to him that Michelin doesn’t have a guide for Houston (or Texas for that matter), he was genuinely surprised.

Today I posted my translation of his post on our lunch at Tony’s on Tony’s website (for the original in Italian click here).

In it, he makes his case for why Michelin should come to Texas and it’s a lot of fun to read his impressions of fine dining in the U.S.

Here’s the link.

Quintarelli Valpolicella & Lucy’s fried chicken (Giovanni’s Easy Rider tour comes to an end)

There was one sine qua non pillar of Americana that Giovanni had not yet experienced on his “Easy Rider USA Tour 2012”: fried chicken, the way its done in the South.

And so on his last day in Texas, we decided to take a ride to the south side of Austin to Lucy’s Fried Chicken, where irony and hipsterdom collide in a deep frier (photo above by Giovanni). We picked up a bucket of chicken, which, according to Lucy’s serves four but could easily accommodate a party of six (unless folks squabble over who gets the breast).

When we visited Houston on Tuesday, Giovanni had spied a bottle of Quintarelli 2000 Valpolicella, which he generously bought for us to share. As deep as our friendship may run, Giovanni — a top Italian winemaker — and I often disagree about wine. The “rough edges” of many of the Natural and old-school wines that Tracie P and I cherish preclude his nod of approval. He even turned his nose up at a bottle of 2006 Romangia Bianco by Dettori that we opened — one of our all-time favorite wines, showing gorgeously right now! Blasphemy at the Parzen residence!

But one thing we can all agree on is Quintarelli. And the superb bottle inspired an interesting conversation on the use of oxidation and filtration, with Giovanni pointing to Quintarelli as a master in both regards (where many Natural winemakers use excessive oxidation and don’t filter at all).

The richness of the wine (served slightly chilled) was simply brilliant with the fatty, juicy (and delicious) fried chicken and its dark red fruit ideal with the flavors of Tracie P’s mouth-watering fried okra (above) and mashed potatoes.

This morning I took Giovanni to the airport and he’ll be back in Brescia by lunchtime tomorrow. It was great to have him here and share our lives with him. (Italian-speaking readers, please check out his posts on Texas truck culture and his impressions of a Texan wine.)

Thanks again, Giovanni, for the visit and the Quintarelli! Travel safe, friend. As we say in the South, come back and see us, ya hear?