Category Archives: de urbe novo eboraco

Dell’Anima: a new favorite wine list and a lucky son

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Posting in a hurry this morning as I head out to a busy day of meetings and working meals and tastings in NYC but just had to share the FANTASTIC wines I tasted last night at Dell’Anima. That’s owner Joe Campanale and his mom, DellAnimom, who does all of Joe’s social media. Joe, a friend, is such a sweet and talented dude and I simply adore his mom. They work together closely and she is a delight.

The place was packed with downtown glitterati, raw scallops, and black truffles.

1999 Vermentino BY THE GLASS! I was blown away by how much life this wine had in it. Joe’s got a fantastic BTG program, with a lot of stuff from the 90s…

So geeked to see this wine by Produttori Nebbiolo di Carema in the market. Perfect with my risotto alla pilota.

If only more people knew Gianni Brunelli’s wines, we might achieve peace in the Middle East.

La Stoppa’s Ageno is one of my favorite wines of all time. Drank it with dessert.

Burgundy and (homemade) pizza and NYC’s most famous bathtub

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Arrived La Guardia last night and after leaving my blackberry in the cab (something I never did in over 10 years living here!) and then recovering it (!) thanks to the next fare (a super nice guy on the Upper East Side who wouldn’t take reward money, a true New Yorker Samaritan), I made my way over to Alice’s place for some old-school kibitzing, excellent 06 Burgundy (above) and delicious homemade pizza.

One topic of conversation was Alice’s famous kitchen bathtub, immortalized in the local paper first in 2004 and more recently in the society pages, where she discusses the myth of quotidian bathing in the Big City (scroll down to the bottom of the article for her quote and note the sliced bread on the side of the tub above).

Of course, there was no way I was going to miss an opportunity to use what many consider the most famous WC in Manhattan (if not the entire U.S.).

Hey, is that Anthony’s guitar pick on the floor?

The aura of BrooklynGuy’s table

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From the “through a glass darkly” department…

Above: Anyone who reads BrooklynGuy’s blog knows the “aura” of his famous table. Tracie P took this photo of through a wonderful glass of Jura that he poured us when we visited with him and BrooklynFamily on a beautiful spring day in late May.

Alice has sat there. McDuff has sat there. Eric has sat there.

I just can’t convey the delight that flowed through my veins when Tracie P and I were invited to sit there last month while sojourning in New York City (once my home, too) in May.

For the life of me, I simply can’t remember why or how I discovered and started following BrooklynGuy’s blog. Over the course of the two years or so that I’ve been a fan, I’ve found vinous and culinary inspiration, buying guidance, good-natured humor, and an honesty and integrity of writing that are rivaled solely by the genuineness and purity of the style.

Above: There it is, the famous table, the one the appears in many of BrooklynGuy’s posts. Can you feel its aura?

But perhaps even more thrilling than the thought of sharing a glass of wine with BrooklynLady and BrooklynGuy and meeting the BrooklynChildren was the prospect of sitting at the storied table that appears in many of his posts and experiencing its aura.

The bottles that grace and graze that surface have passed the Litmus and acid tests of BrooklynGuy’s impeccable palate. It’s a classic case of Benjaminian mechanical reproduction. Through the repetitive appearance of the image of this simple wooden table in BrooklynGuy’s blog, the object itself has attained an aura that assumes its own unique meaning within the paradigm of ritualistic wine tasting.

Above: Look to BrooklynGuy’s blog for great tips in growers Champagne, the “mine field” of affordable Burgundy, and the often uncharted nuance of the Jura.

Over the course of these two years or so, BrooklynGuy’s become a friend and our visit with BrooklynFamily the other day revealed that not since Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner have two schlubs enjoyed the company of two such beautiful and simpatico wives.

Thanks BrooklynFamily for the wonderful Saturday afternoon visit, for the great wines and blog, and thanks — most of all — for the friendship.

Welcome back,
Your dreams were your ticket out.

Welcome back,
To that same old place that you laughed about.

Well the names have all changed since you hung around,
But those dreams have remained and they’re turned around.

Who’d have thought they’d lead ya (Who’d have thought they’d lead ya)
Here where we need ya (Here where we need ya)

Yeah we tease him a lot cause we’ve hot him on the spot, welcome back,
Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back.

Good Italian food and wine grow in Brooklyn

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brooklyn

Above: The Bisci Verdicchio di Matelica was just one of the killer wines poured for me and BrooklynGuy by Albano Ballerini at his excellent restaurant Aliseo Osteria del Borgo in Brooklyn. Aliseo doesn’t really have a website (although it does have a FB). Trust me: just go there and ask Albano to bring you food and wine.

May is the most beautiful month in Brooklyn. When I visited with Tracie P, her gorgeous blue eyes sparkled in the springtime sunshine of Brooklyn Heights by the waterfront. And when I returned — alas, alone this time during my work week — for dinner with BrooklynGuy and Brooklyn Lady, I discovered that the sunny days of May and its temperate nights are ideal for fine wine and dining in this borough so often neglected by the gastronomically minded.

brooklyn

Above: This Colline Pescaresi 2008 Pecorino by Ciavolich was awesome. Originally from the Marches, owner Albano (an ex-fashion photographer) offers his patrons a tidy but impressive list of wines from the central Adriatic coast of Italy — probably the best representation of the Marches and Abruzzo I’ve seen.

I must confess that I loved everything about Albano Ballerini’s Aliseo Osteria del Borgo: the décor, the vibe, the food, and the excellent wine list. I can see why it’s become one of BrooklynGuy’s favorite haunts. Albano and chef Gustavo Fernandez seem to operate in perfect synchronicity and symphony.

brooklyn

Above: Handmade spaghetti alla chitarra tossed with herbs and fresh pistachios were off-the-charts good.

Who knows how many lives Albano has lived? He’s a real character (un vero personaggio) and an ex-fashion photographer who loves (and knows) great food and wine. When you enter his restaurant, you enter his world, you enter his stories, and you are bound (quite literally) to eat and drink well.

brooklyn

Above: Even something as simple as Gustavo’s grilled steak and pork loin was prepared and presented with such care and poetry that the experience (very reasonably priced) went from A to A+.

When I moved to Brooklyn back in 1997, there was no Al di là, Convivio, or Franny’s (these names will not be unfamiliar to anyone who watched Brooklyn’s culinary street cred grow in the late 90s and early 00s). Back then there was just Cucina on 5th Ave. (remember that joint?).

Albano is an amazing and ambitious gourmand and gourmet and a great host. His tidy wine list is probably the most interesting gathering of central Adriatic wines in this country.

brooklyn

Above: This 50% Montepulciano and 50% Merlot from the 2001 vintage was killer (and I do not use that term lightly where Merlot is concerned!). I’d heard of Serenelli’s wines but had never tasted them. I’d really love to taste the winery’s Rosso Conero (pronounced KOH-neh-roh btw).

Thanks again, BrooklynGuy and BrooklynLady, for hipping me to this excellent dining destination. Great stuff. Highly recommended.

Aliseo Osteria del Borgo
(no website)
665 Vanderbilt Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11238-3831
(718) 783-3400

osteria del borgo

Sicilian food porn (via Brooklyn): Focacceria di Ferdinando

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From the “favorite places on planet earth” department…

Above: The potato croquettes at the Focacceria di Ferdinando in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn — a sine qua non of the classic Sicilian focacceria (see note on usage and meaning of the designation focacceria below).

Saturday morning in New York City found me and Tracie P on the F train to Carroll Gardens, where we had a date with one of my childhood friends (since our bar mitzvah days), Noah (the German professor as he is known on his wife’s blog) and his lovely wife, Melanie (whom we also adore), mother to the Cheese-Hater and author of the recently published Eating for Beginners.

rice ball

Above: The arancino or rice ball, served in this instance as the rice ball “special.” The arancino is a rice ball stuffed with ground meet and cheese, dredged in breadcrumbs and then fried, and in this case, dressed with tomato sauce and ricotta and sprinkled with grated Pecorino Romano.

Our destination? The Focacceria di Ferdinando, one of my favorite restaurants in the world and one of those places that brings nearly all of my favorite palates together — like Anthony and BrooklynGuy. (In one of our insanely close degrees of separation, Anthony wrote me to tell me how much he loves the Focacceria and to hip me to the fact that awesome Brooklyn songwriter Jesse Harris used to have a band called “the Ferdinandos” in homage to this storied joint.)

chickpea fritter

Above: The pièce de résistance, the “panelle special” sandwich. A panella (pl. panelle), pronounced pah-NEHL-lah, is a fried chickpea fritter, a classic of Sicilian street food.

The Focacceria di Ferdinando opened its doors in 1904, when it catered to Sicilian longshoremen who worked the dockyards in Brooklyn. The current owner, Francesco Buffa, took over from the second owner in the 1970s, and very little has changed there. (Francesco is one of the most interesting characters I’ve encountered in New York, a true vitellone as he describes himself in Fellinian terms, an ex-Carabiniere and judo instructor who fell in love with the owner’s daughter when he visited the city in the 70s, still sporting a Mark Spitz mustache.)

chickpea fritter

Above: The vasteddu (or vastedda), slowly braised spleen, served on a roll with ricotta and Pecorino. Alfonso’s post on vasteddu in Palermo is not to be missed.

Long before Batali and Psilakis made offal fashionable again in New York, Francesco served vasteddu (the Sicilian classic slow-braised spleen) in the same way it was served to proletarians who could have as easily stepped out of a De Sica film in the 50s or a Pasolini film in the 60s. This remarkable dish is a trace of another era and a Freudian red thread that ties our culinary heritage to the fiefdoms of pre-Lampedusian insular life.

cannoli

Above: Still life with cannolo.

One might ask: Where is the focaccia? In fact, the terms focaccia and focacceria (foh-KACH-eh-REE-ah) come from the late Latin focaciam, from focus, meaning fire or hearth. A focacceria is not necessarily a place where focaccia (i.e., the savory flatbread made with olive oil) is baked and sold (although in Liguria or Tuscany, you would most certainly find focaccia at a focacceria). It means simply an eatery or bakery of some sort and as such is applied in Sicilian parlance (again, see Alfonso’s post on his recent trip to Palermo).

Also highly recommended at the Focacceria di Ferdinando: the Caponatina (made in the style of Carini, the town near Palermo where Francesco is from), the Pasta con le Sarde (long noodles with sardines, another Sicilian classic), and — when it’s available — Francesco’s marinated tuna steak with celery sauce.

An INCREDIBLE flight with the Philip Marlowe of wine

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It was about 8 o’clock in the evening, end of May, with the Manhattan moon rising above midtown and a look of hard wet rain in the distance of New Jersey. I was wearing my pinstripe blue suit, with a light checkered shirt and an orange square tie. I was neat, clean, shaved and sober, and I didn’t care who knew it. I was everything the well-dressed sommelier ought to be. I was about to pour an 1971 Produttori del Barbaresco.

Words cannot begin to describe the sensations Tracie P and I experienced a few weeks ago in New York, when our dear friend Mary Anne treated us to dinner at Alto in midtown Manhattan, where Levi Dalton — the Philip Marlowe of the New York wine scene — had created a special flight just for us.

There a lot of talented wine professionals in New York but none is sharper than Levi, and man, he’s at the top of his game right now, really and truly in the zone. And I’m sure that anyone who knows Levi will concur: the dude’s dry wit and deftness at wordplay are matched only by the acuity of his palate. Raymond Chandler couldn’t have written a more perfect Philip Marlowe of wine.

I needed a drink, I needed a lot of life insurance, I needed a vacation, I needed a home in the country. What I had was a wine key and a serviette.

Like a mind-reader, Levi couldn’t have thrilled us more than by opening the flight with this Saignée de Sorbée by Vouette et Sorbée. Incredible freshness, sumptuous aroma, sexy but not overly generous fruit flavor.

Next came the 2005 Arbois Pupillon by Overnoy. I’d only ever tasted this wine in Québec, where it seems to be easier to find. To me, wines like this are the “unbearable lightness of being.” They are so light in body yet so rich in mouthfeel, delicately fragrant on the nose yet muscular in the palate. Perhaps only in Barbaresco do I find that same counter-intuitive, ineffable sensory experience. The same equine metaphors apply.

The whole restaurant turned around to see what the fuss was about when Tracie P and I gasped in delight at the appearance of this wine. 1974 not the greatest vintage for this wine but showing admirably. Little did we know what was about to come…

Dreams do come true. Awesome vintage (older than Tracie P!), beautifully cellared bottle. One of the great wine experiences of my lifetime (up there with 1989 Barbaresco Santo Stefano by Bruno Giacosa).

Angiolino Maule’s wines were a discovery for me on this recent trip to New York. Later in the trip, I tasted his declassified Soave. Fantastic wines. Great acidity even in this recioto di Soave. A true connoisseur’s wine.

And not to be outdone in the brandy department… The above photo needs no caption.

“How do you like your brandy?” asked General Sternwood. “In a glass,” said Marlowe.

From Levi Dalton to Romano Levi… what a night! What an amazing flight of wines.

Thanks again, Mary Anne for treating me and Tracie P to such an unforgettable evening in celebration of our wedding. And thanks, Levi, for being such a great friend (however from afar) and for creating such a special flight of wines just for us. I’ll never forget it.

Syrahlandia (no matter where you go, there you are)

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Above: Yesterday was devoted to a sprucing up of our patio for summer, including the purchase of a grill and the grilling of some pork chops and sausage. Tracie P made her classic penne al pomodoro and an amazing cilantro, avocado, and black-eyed pea salad. Palazzino Chianti Classico — grapey and juicy — paired nicely with all of the above.

When you go to Italy, do you order hamburgers, that quintessential dish of Americana? I know of at least one ex-pat blogger who has probably tried (perhaps inspired by nostalgia?) every hamburger in Rome. At nearly every instance, she emerges bitterly disappointed.

Last week, while working in New York City with some Italian colleagues, I was amazed at one woman’s continued bewilderment at the American convention of tipping. “Why should I tip? Why is it not already included in the bill like in Italy? It said ‘tip’ on the credit card receipt so I thought it was included?” It was a sort of cognitive dissonance: despite my assurance that tipping is a widely embraced convention of the U.S. restaurant industry (where her client hopes to sell its wines one day), she just couldn’t wrap her mind around the thought of leaving a tip.

As St. Augustine once said, in a observation about fasting schedules in Milan as opposed to Rome, when in Rome, order a hamburger.

My bewilderment at her bewilderment came to mind when a friend forwarded me a tweet from a man who needs no introduction here, James Suckling:

    Tasted some wonderful Syrahs! 2007 is a great year for Syrah in Tuscany!!

When in Tuscany, do as the Tuscans do: drink Syrah (???).

Last week I found myself bewildered at a quasi apology that Mr. Suckling offered for a wine he gave 92 points out of 100 (a hefty score in a world driven by score-based sales revenue): “Not a big wine,” he wrote of the wine made from 100% Sangiovese, an indigenous grape of Tuscany, “but balanced and pretty.”

Thinking of my colleague the reluctant tipper and the ex-pat in Rome who orders hamburgers, it occurred to me that — like Plato’s man in the cave — we all see the world as projected by the lens of our previous experiences.

It makes perfect sense that Mr. Suckling would apologize from the lighter-bodied style of Il Poggione’s traditional-style Brunello since he clearly loves the richer, “big” style of (international grape, traditionally grown in the Rhône valley) Syrah grown in Tuscany. (I know for example that he loves the wines made by my and his friend Cinzia Merli at Le Macchiole, where a 100% Syrah is vinified in a opulent, rich style, definitely a “big” wine.)

In Italian you say, paesi che vai, usanze che trovi. In other words, you will find different customs in every village or country where you go.

When in Syrahlandia, do as the Syrahlandians do. Drink Syrah.

Or, in the words of Buckaroo Banzai, Hey, hey, hey, hey-now. Don’t be mean; we don’t have to be mean, cuz, remember, no matter where you go, there you are.

Buona domenica, ya’ll!

My guiltiest pleasure: New York libraries

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New York Public Library

It’s been a crazy week for me in New York City, rich with food and wine experiences, interesting people (friends new and old), and stimulating conversations, flavors, and aromas. I’m happy to be heading home to my beloved Tracie P but before I go I’m indulging in what is my guiltiest pleasure: New York libraries! I’m posting today from a reading room where I’ve spent many, many joyous hours (first as visiting grad student and then as a New York resident) at the New York Public Library (above).

Earlier in the week, I visited one of my other favorite haunts, the Butler Library at Columbia University (the reference room, above). (Nota bene: while the NYPL is open to the public, readership privileges are required at Butler so be sure to make the appropriate arrangements before visiting; it’s actually very easy and simple to get a day pass, but some legwork is required.)

What does this have to do with (Italian) wine? I’m doing a little research for an upcoming post on vineyard designation names (a few issues I wasn’t able to resolve with my reference library at home).

Aaaaahhhhh, if only I were a wealthy man, I’d spend my days in libraries, poring over old tomes, looking for forgotten words, parsing verses culled from Barbaric odes…

I also indulged in another guilty pleasure this week: New York pizza!

Thanks for reading and sharing my guilty pleasures. See you back in Texas!

Scenes from a Saturday in Brooklyn

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Yesterday, I took Tracie P on a tour of “my” Brooklyn…

That’s me with Francesco Buffa owner of Ferdinando’s in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, one of my favorite restaurants in the world.

Tracie P often teases me that when I’m around New Yorkers I start to talk with a New York accent. When I’m Brooklyn? Fuhgeddaboudit (I even found myself saying “you twos”).

That the vasteddu, the Palermitan spleen sandwich served at Ferdinando’s.

I’ve got a special post planned for next week on Francesco and the culinary legacy that his excellent restaurant represents.

grower champagne

Can anyone guess where we took this photo of this superb bottle of Champagne by Lassaigne? I’ve got one hint for you: the owner of that table likes Champagne (and he’s got one of the palates, to borrow Cory’s phrase, I admire most in this here enoblogospher).

More on our lovely visit and the wines we tasted together coming up…

Tracie P and I visited Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn Heights, Park Slope (where I used to live way back when), and, de riguer, the Brooklyn Bridge.

It was such a beautiful Saturday afternoon in May and I just felt like I fell in love with her all over again…

Thanks, Tracie P, for let me share “my Brooklyn” with you… I love you.

From Le Bernardin to Barney Greengrass, there’s nothing like a good piece of fish

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Above: White fish salad appetizer, Barney Greengrass.

From Le Bernardin to Barney Greengrass: there’s nothing like a “good piece of fish.” Tracie P and I are staying on the Upper Westside this time around and NO visit to the west side is complete without some smoked fish at one of my favorite delicatessens, Barney Greengrass — an American classic and one of Woody Allen’s favorite “establishing shots.”

Above: You just gotta have the potato latkes.

Thanks, Greg and Eileen, for breakfast! And mazel tov!

Heading to Brooklyn now for some panelle…