Above: brother Tad poses with a magnum of Taittinger La Française and his puttanesca sauce.

The Parzen family brought in the New Year at Tad and Diane’s (my brother and sister-in-law’s) house, where we opened a magnum of Taittinger N[on V[intage] La Française.

Many people drink and think of Champagne solely as a stand-alone, special-occasion wine but it’s one of my favorite “food” wines: when it’s well made, it has good acidity, fruit, and body, and it’s arguably the most versatile wine in terms of its pairing possibilities. We drank the wine throughout our meal and it went great with Tad’s pear wedges (topped with “Maytag” blue and wrapped in prosciutto and arugula), an artichoke and cheese dip (brought by one of the guests), and even Tad’s spicy puttanesca sauce.*

Wine in large format (in this case a magnum or 1.5-liter bottle) is always fun to pour at parties and Champagne in particular shows better when aged in large format (experts haven’t really been able to pinpoint the reason for this but it likely has something to do with the fact that wine generally ages better in large quantities, probably because the oxygen-to-liquid ratio is reduced). The wine was drinking beautifully and paired wonderfully with everything — from the antipasti to ice cream cake and cookies.

My nephew Cole and I had spent the afternoon writing and recording a song using GarageBand. He was impressed by the size of the bottle and so I gave him some pointers on opening Champagne (his father noted it’s a skill that proves useful later in lafe):

– always have a serviette or clean dish towel handy (to wipe down the bottle and in case of spills)
– after you’ve removed the capsule by pulling the ribbon counter-clockwise, always keep your thumb over the cork as you twist the wire (in case it pops; the wire twists away from you and it always takes six turns to remove it)
– make sure the bottle isn’t pointing at anyone (in case it pops)
– tilt the bottle at a 45° angle, hold the cork firmly, place your thumb over the cork, and then slowly twist the bottle from the bottom as you gently apply pressure to pull out the cork

Above: December’s Children at Beaumont’s in Bird Rock (La Jolla) — Justin Richert, Danny Baker (left), John Yelenosky (center), Andrew Harvey, and Irwin (right).

The strike of midnight found me at a local bar, Beaumont’s, where I sat in with December’s Children.

I’ve known and played music with these dudes since I was a teenager. Each of them is a excellent musician in his own right. Danny Baker has got a great voice and his Les Paul Gold Top sounds great (I believe it’s a 57 reissue). My doppelganger Jeremy Farson, an accomplished painter, also sat in (if you click the link, scroll down the page to read about Jeremy).

I rocked out on Voodoo Child and Come On (Let the Good Times Roll) — a great way to ring in 2008 (which has got to be better than 2007!).

* Contrary to popular belief, pasta alla puttanesca is not so-named because it was or is the preferred victual of prostitutes (a common but erroneous folkloric etymology, owed to the fact that puttana means “prostitute” in contemporary Italian). The noun puttana and the adjective puttanesco are derived from the Italian putto (Latin, putus), “boy.” By the sixteenth-century (long before tomatoes and dried pasta were popular in Italian cuisine), the term puttanesco was already used in Italian to denote something belonging to a “lesser station in life,” so to speak, “boyish” or “girlish” or even “whoreish,” if you like. Pasta alla puttanesca is a pasta tossed in a tomato-sauce that has been flavored typically with cured anchovies, olives, capers, and chili flakes: the qualifier alla puttanesca refers to the fact that it is not a rich dish. In other words, it’s not a meat sauce or a sauce flavored with stock. It’s a dressing for pasta made savory by combining “humble” ingredients (another related word, puttanata means “rubbish” or “crap” in Italian, as in the expression, non dire puttanate, “don’t talk crap,” and has nothing to do with prostitutes). A meretrix may enjoy eating pasta alla puttanesca, but the dish wasn’t named after her.

Check out the follow-up post I did on Sugo alla puttanesca.

Although she makes a brief reference to it in her entry “Pasta Sauces,” Gillian Riley, author of the recently published Oxford Companion to Italian Food (October, 2007), does not offer an entry for pasta alla puttanesca. I’ve been leafing through the book during my trip out west…

Above: couldn’t resist the Viña Bosconia 1999 by López de Heredia at Boqueria.

Monday evening found me with my long-time friend Bret Scott at Boqueria, a great and wine and tapas bar on 19th st. named after the Mercado de la Boqueria in Barcelona (don’t forget to aspirate that “c” in Barcelona!).

Bret owns and runs an entertainment agency specialized in spoken word and dance, Global Talent Associates, and he used to book my band back in the day.

Bret’s traveled more extensively in Spain than I have and we both agreed that Boqueria gets it right. I had some tostadas topped with tuna and Bret had a slice of tortilla española (also called a tortilla de patatas), a traditional Spanish potato omelet.

The Viña Bosconia 1999 by López de Heredia was great although a little meatier than the house’s typical light style. I guess its ripeness was due to its youth and possibly the vintage. We both enjoyed it thoroughly (it was reasonably priced) and will definitely return to boqueria.

Above: Jamón Serrano hangs in the shop window at Boqueria.

My niece and nephew Amalia and Abner.

“Don’t carve the turducken^TM without me!!!!” (nephew Eli, bro Tad, and mom Judy)

It was the first time we’d all spent Thanksgiving together in many years. Brothers Micah and Tad made toasts about how lucky we all are to have never known truly hard times in our lives. We all remembered how our “poppa,” our grandfather (our mom’s dad), grew up poor and made it his life goal that his children and grandchildren would never face the troubles he did. He made it…

It all helps to put this year’s trial and tribulations into perspective.

In my toast, I told everyone how happy I was for the support and love they’ve given me over the last four — very (emotionally) tough — months. It taught me, I told everyone, that it doesn’t matter how good or bad the wines you drink and the foods that you eat (even though I make a living writing about that stuff)… all that matters — I know now — is the people with whom you break bread and the folks who share your cup of wine… “Family,” said Micah, “that’s the most important thing…” Thanks to Micah for hooking up our Palm Springs family Thanksgiving. I even got a tan!

Nephew Cole is a rockin’ guitar player (and I mean that… we made a recording of us playing some blues).

Nephew Eli and his dad (my bro) Tad. Eli told me that he is a “fiscal conservative.” He’ll be able to vote next year… amazing…

Tad and my sister-in-law Diane.

The 97 Leroy Bourgogne Blanc was corked (damnit!) but the 99 Quintarelli Valpolicella was a treat, the 04 Roty Gevrey-Chambertin perfect with the meal, and the 03 Barbaresco by Produttori del Barbaresco (opened 3 hours before we drank it at the end) was heavenly.

Mom Judy and sister-in-law Marguerite (she’s expecting… Marguerite, that is…).

Bro Micah wrastles the turducken^TM.