Rocking Out in Montréal

Above: me with good friend and Montreal Mirror Music Editor Rupert Bottenberg.

The second week of July brought Nous Non Plus to Québec where we played in Québec City and Montréal. We drove up the night before the first show and stopped in Montreal to catch up with Montreal Mirror Music Editor, Rupert Bottenberg, at BU on Boulevard St-Laurent. Over the years, Rupert and I have become friends through music, getting together when we’ve played in Montréal and when he comes down to NYC for the College Music Journal festival. Since Rupert and I have historically met in loud rock clubs, where beer is the beverage of choice, it was high time we connected over a glass of vino.

I’ve been really impressed with the excellent cuisine and wine lists in Québec. Rupert suggested that we try BU (the name comes from the past participle of boire, to drink, and is meant to evoke — claims the owner Patrik — the term cru, i.e., a French "growth," or vineyard site).

Above: our enthusiastic sommelier Olivier moves faster than the speed of light (photo by Lorraine Carpenter).

When I first glanced at the list, the 2000 Bucci immediately caught my eye. A six-year-old Verdicchio might seem a stretch but Bucci is known for its longevity (I recently tasted the 2002 at Del Posto in NYC a few months ago). The wine was very much alive, with good alcohol and acidity, and paired well with pâté-topped crostini (while the list at BU is primarily French, there were some good Italian selections and the menu was italophile). Bucci’s Verdicchio is a stunning example of what an otherwise humble grape can do when treated naturally and respectfully. I love the taste and mouthfeel of old wine and I was glad to share this one with my bandmates and friends.

Although I’ve never traveled to Mâcon, I’ve read that mâconnais custom calls for the older wines to be served first. This is due to the fact that the Chardonnay grown there makes for intensely aromatic wines that become more gentle over time. The younger wines would overpower the palate if poured first and in spite of my self-doubt, I was glad that we did the Domaine Cordier Mâcon-Milly-Lamartine 2003 as the second wine in the flight. It was a real treat (and great value) and married well with the marinated octopus. North Americans are so accustomed to drinking overly oaked and concentrated California Chardonnay: we were all pleasantly surprised by the wine’s gorgeous fragrance and freshness.

The Maréchal Ladoix 2003, recommended by our wonderful sommelier Olivier, was good, although very ripe, perhaps due more to the vintage and its youth than to the winemaker’s approach. The wines from Ladoix are often called flabby but I liked the acidity in this village wine and its fruit, although overly pronounced, was genuine on my palate (not extracted through concentration).

I liked the Domaine du Colombier Crozes-Hermitage Cuvée Gaby 2003, also recommended by Olivier, but it certainly needed more time to develop. Every time I’ve traveled to Québec, I’ve been impressed by how many Rhône wines the restaurateurs have in their cellars: Crozes-Hermitage represents one of the best values in fine wine today, a relatively undiscovered country for those of us who reside below the Canadian border, and I am always excited to try the wines that the Québecois are cellaring.

The next night found us in Québec City where we performed once again at the Galerie Rouge, right next door to what has become one of my all-time favorite restaurants, L’Utopie. Although we didn’t have time for dinner, I did pop in before our set to taste a few wines. Belgian sommelier Bernard Mesotten is one of the most impressive young wine professionals I have met and without blinking an eye, he produced three wines and a distillate that I had never tasted before: a Chardonnay, a vin jaune, a Poulsard, and a vin de liqueur from the Jura region in France, each from the Overnoy estate (see photo below). Knowing I had about 45 minutes before the band took the stage, he quickly created this flight for me. Nestled between Burgundy and Switzerland, the appellations of Jura are relatively unknown in North America. I was particularly impressed with Poulsard, a black grape that makes a wine so light and fresh that its often compared to rosé, and the vin jaune, "yellow wine," which is made by allowing the lees (the dead yeast cells) to form a film over the wine, thus creating a natural cap so that that wine can age in open vats (perfect for the cold climate of the region because the lower temperatures naturally stop fermentation). The wine has a wonderfully viscous mouthfeel (due partly to the evaporation during the uncovered aging) and the oxidation gives the wine complex flavors that you normally find only in old whites. To my mind, Bertrand is everything that a sommelier should be: passionate and curious about wine, generous with his knowledge, and always searching for wines beyond the obvious choices. Next time we perform there, I hope to sample more lots from his excellent list of Languedoc Syrahs. Bravo Bertrand!

We played to a packed house that night and as our popularity has grown in Québec, it’s been amazing to see the francophone fans respond to our new album, mouthing the words to the songs as they rock out to the music. Nous Non Plus’ little utopie indeed.

Above: a few of the wines tasted at Utopie before our show next door at the Galerie Rouge (photo by Greg Wawro).

Wow Cleveland!

Yesterday, following our performance on the Miller Lite stage at the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame (as part of the College Music Journal festival… that’s me on the far left), Nous Non Plus joined friends Jenny and Daniel Margolis at Lolita in Cleveland.

While many wines were consumed that night, the highlights were a Castellblanch Rosado Seco NV and a Struzziero Acuto di Soprano 1999.

The Rosado Seco is a traditional-method (i.e., double-fermented in bottle) Cava rosè, made, I read on the winery’s site, with Trepat (a grape commonly used in Northeast Spain for light reds and rosés) and Garnacha (a varietal akin to Grenache grown in Southern France and the Southern Rhône and Cannonau from Sardinia). The wine was bright with balanced fruit and gorgeous fizziness. It was a perfect pairing for the housemade charcuterie that Lolita serves (the most impressive part of the menu, although the mezedes (the traditional "small plates" of Greece, served similarly to the tapas of Spain or the cicchetti of Venice) were also fantastic, especially the seafood.

Jeremy Parzen

I’ll confess that I didn’t know the Acuto di Soprano and when the waiter recommended it. The wine was excellent and although I had heard of the producer Struzziero, I had never heard of a label with this proprietary name. Taurasi is made from 100% Aglianico grapes, the noble varietal of Southern Italy, grown in Campania. Its most famous producer is Mastroberardino, a favorite of mine. Although Mastroberardino virtually created and holds a monopoly over the appellation Taurasi, there are a few other producers who make it. As it turns out, this wine was created for HBO by Struzziero to sell as a souvenir from the Sopranos (something about Anthony Soprano’s lineage and a wine he discovers in an episode of the show). The wine had no oak on it and was made in the traditional style. Excellent juice and at a reasonable price, too. Surprisingly good for a "gimmick" wine. (Although I’ve never tasted it, they say that the so-called "porn star" wine, Sogno Uno, is a respectable blend of Cesanese, Montepulciano, and Sangiovese).

The service at Lolita was good, the waitstaff and chef highly knowledgeable about the dishes they prepared and served. I’m not so crazy about the Riedel stemless stemware (see photo above, a conundrum indeed) but the evening ended with us all singing and smoking in the courtyard over some excellent dried-grape Muscat.

Big Wednesday

Una Serata da Leoni

I Normanni Falanghina 2004
Castello di Verduno Verduno Basadone 2004
Livio Sassetti Rosso di Montalcino 2002
Castelli Martinozzi Rosso di Montalcino 2001
Produttori del Barbaresco Barbaresco Rabajà 1997
Giacomo Conterno Barolo Cascina Francia 1995
Schramsberg Blanc de Noirs NV

Last night, an old friend from college days, Steve Samson, and his friends Debbie and Mike came over to cook up some food and drink some Nebbiolo. Steve and I met during our junior year abroad in Italy. Since that time (so many years ago), he has enjoyed a remarkable career in cooking, studying and working in Italy and New York, and ultimately becoming the executive chef of Valentino in Santa Monica, one of the country’s premier Italian restaurants, with one of the world’s most remarkable Italian cellars.

Steve is a world-class chef and I knew that the dinner would be worth remembering, a true serata da leoni, an evening for the lions (a reference, in my world, to the Italian title of the great surf flick Big Wedsnesday, Mercoledì da leoni in Italian).

Our mutual friend Puddu from Bologna writes: "as the roman would say ‘ammazza che magnata’!!!"

Crab Salad topped with
Diced Avocado, Apple,
and Julienned Serrano Peppers

I Normanni Falanghina 2004

The bright, approachable Falanghina, a white grape from Campania (Southern Italy), paired perfectly with the seafood. The wine’s acidity stood up nicely to the richness of the avocado and the sweetness of the apples.

Seared Scallops served over Purée of Jerusalem Artichokes
with Hazelnuts sautéed in Butter and Mandarin Oranges

Castello di Verduno Verduno Basadone 2004

Perhaps Italy’s smallest appellation, Verduno (Piedmont) is made from the rare Pelaverga grape, an aromatic, spicy red that goes great with food. The wine was light but sturdy enough to match nicely with the fatty scallops (the Verduno township also produces Barolo).

Above: Chef Steve Samson rolls out the dough for his stuffed pasta.

Tortelli Stuffed with Swiss Chard and Ricotta
served over Tomato Cream Sauce

Livio Sassetti Rosso di Montalcino 2002

Chef Steve writes that "there’s no cream in the tomato sauce. I blend it on high and add EVOO [extra virgin olive oil] while blending. The emulsification of the oil gives it the light color."

The 2002 vintage was a poor one for Central Tuscany. Many producers in Montalcino did not make Brunello (or they made less than usual) and used their top fruit for their Rosso. I’ve really enjoyed Sassetti’s 2002 Rosso (his Brunellos are, in general, a little too expensive for me, but I found this Rosso at a good price). Although we enjoyed it with the stuffed pasta, we all agreed that the more traditional Castelli Martinozzi Rosso 2001 was better (see below).

Pennoni al Ragù di Agnello (Lamb Sauce)
served over Fresh Ricotta and topped with Grated Pecorino

Castelli Martinozzi Rosso di Montalcino 2001

Martinozzi’s wine are among my favorites. His vineyards are in Santa Restituta, one of the highest subzones in Montalcino and close enough to the western coast to benefit from superb ventilation (the altitude cools the grapes at night during summer, thus allowing them to ripen more slowly; the ventilation helps to keep the fruit dry, thus reducing rot). He uses no barrique for this wine: it reminds me of the wines I began to drink in Montalcino in the late 1980s, before the modernist craze took off there. Martinozzi is the real deal: grapes + earth = wine. (Although, when I interviewed him recently, he told me that he does barrique his Riserva wine, as per the tastes of the Swiss and German markets, he said.)

Pork Shoulder Braised in Milk with Wilted Kale

Produttori del Barbaresco Barbaresco Rabajà 1997

In a recent Wine Spectator Piedmont vintage guide, the authors recommended holding your 97s and drinking your 96s. As for my cellar, my 96s are still under lock and key and I’m just beginning to see the 97s show their stuff. The vintage saw a very warm summer and the wines are already coming around. I decanted this bottle early in the evening. There’s not much I can say: 1997 single-vineyard Produttori Barbaresco is one the best I’ve ever tasted. I love this juice.

Piedmontese Cheeses (Bra, Robiola, Castelrosso)

Giacomo Conterno Barolo Cascina Francia 1995

I’ve been lucky enough to taste older vintages of Giacomo Conterno’s wines on a few notable occasions (including a luncheon, at my old job, where I poured a vertical of his famed Monfortino from the 1950s; another was a 1971 shared with me by sommelier Bob Franco of I Trulli). I opened and decanted this bottle at the very beginning of the evening and by the time I served it, it was pure hedonist indulgence. As Murray Moss (one of my new bosses) noted to me the other day a propos a nineteenth-century ceramic figurine that he adores, I wouldn’t want to exist in a world without Giacomo Conterno’s wines. I’m sure the 1995 would have had many years ahead of it, but after decanting and a few hours of aeration, it was simply gorgeous.

Wine and Song

Schramsberg Blanc de Noirs NV
After so much great wine, the evening ended in true Italian style: some bubbles and a song, a true serata da leoni.

A hearty thanks to Steve Samson for sharing his culinary wizardry.

Crystal City Riesling

Above: Robert Weil Rheingau Riesling Spätlese 2002 and Fritz Haag Riesling Auslese Brauneberger Juffer-Sonnenuhr 2002.

Last night Nous Non Plus performed in Las Vegas, where, between loading in our gear and playing the gig, we took time out for a round of Karaoke and some excellent German Rieslings accompanied by fantastic (although very spicy) Thai food.

This bizarre restaurant was highly recommended by my friend Steve Samson, ex-executive chef at Valentino. The Lotus of Siam occupies a modest space in a strip-mall, otherwise devoted to 99-cent stores and Karaoke bars. By the time we sat down (after a few rounds of Karaoke awaiting our table), there were Low Riders in the parking lot, partying and showing off their hydraulics.

When the waiter brought us the book, I was completely blown away: there must have been more than 300 lots, including 1995 Margaux ($450). The list was dominated however by German Riesling. Although I have some experience with Alsace, I must confess that I know next to nothing about German wines. The waitstaff was not much help in choosing the wines, so I based the selection on what the restaurant’s cellar master seemed to prefer (he had verticals of both producers).

The first wine was a Spätlese or "late harvest" from the Rheingau, the second a Auslese or "later harvest" (i.e., a superior wine in the German appellation system) from Juffer-Sonnenuhr (vineyard site) in Brauneberger (appellation) in the Mosel.

As we dined on a series of dishes that included super spicy ground pork, sausages made from pork testicles, stewed pork, each accompanied by lettuce and julienned carrots and sliced cucumbers and tomatoes, these sweet wines stood up well to the intense flavors of the cuisine. While the first wine did not show a great deal of character, the second opened up nicely, revealing fruit at first but minerality and structure as it came to room temperature. German Rieslings are famous for their longevity and the character they develop with the passing of the years. I could only wonder out loud how these wines would show if given proper time to age. They did pair beautifully with the food.

Addendum – Upon reading this post, Nous Non Plus drummer Greg Wawro (below, far right) told me that he felt the foods were so spicy that they overpowered any balance in the wines. In retrospect, I have to agree: the sweetness of the wine paired well with the intense flavors but the spice overwhelmed our palates. Greg is right to note that the tasting conditions were far from ideal. Nonetheless, it was a stimulating if not balanced experience: as the Romans used to say, when in Vegas…

The show that night was well-attended, even though we didn’t go on until 1 a.m. Between watching our good friends Hello Stranger and the end-of-night beers and goodbyes (it was the last night of a three-night run), we barely made it back to our hotel by sunrise. The joke of the evening was "what transpireth in Vegas, remaineth in Vegas." But this experience was definitely worth bringing home (see pic below).

From left: Dan Crane, Jeremy Parzen, Ryan Williams, and Greg Wawro. Menswear by Imp of the Perverse. Photo by Emily Welsch, who also attended.

92 Biondi Santi Rosso and 89 Grattamacco

Bandmate and neighbor Greg Wawro brought over a few aged Porterhouse steaks last night to pair with some big Tuscan wines that I had been saving: a ’92 Biondi Santi Rosso and an ’89 Grattamacco (note how dated and simplistic the label of the Grattamacco appears in the photo above).

The 1992 vintage is widely considered to have been a poor one in Tuscany: did Franco Biondi Santi use his top grapes for this Rosso that year? I think that this is the case since he made little or no Brunello that year… at least, there doesn’t seem to be any on the market. This bottle came to me via a self-described hobbyist of vintage wine who lives in Mondovì in Piedmont. It was so moderately priced that I couldn’t resist buying it. I wasn’t sure if it would survive the trip nor was I certain that the wine hadn’t lost its life. I decanted it about thirty minutes before drinking. Although the first aromas were not so pleasant, the wine opened up beautifully. It certainly had seen better days but for me, there’s nothing like the taste of old wine. It was bright and still had a lot of good acidity. Biondi Santi’s wines are made expressly to age and this one paired wonderfully with our bistecche alla fiorentina (alla Upper West Side).

The 1989 Grattmacco… pure hedonistic pleasure. I’m really not one for Bordeaux-style wines from Italy. But I had a chance to taste a lot of Grattamacco working for one of my former clients and really came to enjoy the wines. When I had the opportunity to buy this bottle at a discounted price (one of the perks afforded by the client), I jumped. Historically, Grattamacco has been made with Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Sangiovese. This bottle seemed to be an even balance of the first two, with lesser amounts of the Italian grape. It was fantastic and paired beautifully with aged cheddar.

The best thing about the Grattamacco was how the wood (i.e., the barrique, the new oak) had integrated – or better yet – had had the time to integrate well. In this country, we are so accustomed to drinking young overly oaked Bordeaux-style wines, that most wine enthusiasts believe the prickly sensation in the back your mouth is a good thing. On the one hand we drank a wine that had no barrique whatsoever. Although the Rosso has passed its peak, it was still very much alive. An oaked Rosso di Montalcino would never last that long (fourteen years!). On the other hand, we drank a very modern wine where the flavor of the wine was not overshadowed by the new wood.

A judicious balance of Old World and New… the wines were some of the most interesting and rewarding that I have ever opened in my home.

A Northern Utopie

Above: Nous Non Plus in their own little Utopie in Québec City (photo by Emily Welsch).

Last night found Nous Non Plus in Québec City, where we dined at l’Utopie, a fine restaurant – as the fates would have it – smack dab next door to the club where we performed. Maître d’hôtel Frédéric and sommelier Bertrand graciously created a meal for us, pairing flavors and textures to the wines we had selected under their tutelage. (In another happy twist of fate, I would run into the two of them at a tasting in New York only a few days later!)

The first wine was a white: Costières de Nîmes 2003, a blend of Grenache Blanc and Roussanne. The latter, Bertrand told us, has been aged in large oak casks in order to achieve measured oxidation of the wine. As a result, the wine was rich in color and wonderfully aromatic. On one level the style struck me as completely modern: the wine was highly manipulated and some might say affected. At the same time, I thought about how he had used a very old technique (aging in large oak barrels where greater amounts of air cause the wine to "age" more quickly) to obtain the richness he wanted (in balance with the conventionally vinified Grenache). The wine was bold and drank more like a red than a white in its mouthfeel and finish. Fréderique paired it with Sea Scallops sprinkled to taste with aromatized fleur de sel.

The next wine was a Coteaux du Languedoc 2003, a 100% Carignan. The wine seemed to embrace the "biodynamique" approach that has become an overarching philosophy for French winemakers in recent years. The sturdy Carignan paired well with Nova Scotia stockfish served over grilled chestnut soup and mashed green cabbage and raisins.

While the star of the evening remained the Costières de Nîmes, the biggest treat for me was the St-Joseph 2003, a 100% Syrah. Many believe that Northern Rhône represents today the greatest value in fine and collectible wine and this wine was fantastic. I enjoyed it immensely with the macreuse, a lean cut of beef served over celeriac, foie gras, marrow, and armillaire mushrooms.

As Bertrand and Frédéric rocked on the dance floor at our show, I couldn’t help but think we had found a small utopia in Québec. The band played seventeen songs, including three encores, and we all slept very well that evening.