Carbonara & more thoughts on its origins, a pairing inspired by Brooklyn Guy

best carbonara recipe

Above: Tracie P’s Carbonara last night. To borrow an expression from Charles Scicolone, “I am blessed.”

“One of the things that is endlessly appealing about New York, for anyone with more than a passive interest in food,” wrote Craig Claiborne in the New York Times in 1965, “is a continual sense of discovery either in products or the environment in which they are sold. It may be a spice or a bread or a cheese in Brooklyn, Greenwich Village, the Lower East Side, but there is always the prospect of the unexpected.”

His words ring as true as if they were written yesterday, don’t they?

In this instance, he was writing about the pancetta at the “Salumeria Italiana, known in the neighborhood as Frank’s Pork Store, at 26 Carmine Street (near Bleecker Street and the Avenue of the Americas).”

Pancetta “is designed to be sliced paper thin and eaten as part of an antipasto or scrambled with eggs. The closest thing it may be said to resemble is prosciutto, and like prosciutto, it is delicious when draped over melon or figs and served as a first course. Mrs. Bocassi, the owner’s wife, commented recently that many Italians used pancetta to make spaghetti carbonara.”

cesanese del piglio

Above: We paired with this Cesanese del Piglio by Cantina Macciocca, sent to us as a sample by importer Katell Pleven of the Vine Collective. In my experience, the Cesanese grape has the right spice to stand up to the intense flavors of Carbonara. I loved this wine by organic farmer and native yeaster Macciocca. Although a little hot with alcohol, it was fresh and meaty and its peppery notes sang with the Carbonara.

Carbonara has been on my mind after reading Brooklyn Guy’s recent and superb post and reflections on wine pairings and recipes.

(Here’s a link to my last post on Carbonara and its origins.)

The Claiborne passage above is significant not only because “Mrs. Bocassi, the owner’s wife, commented recently [in 1965] that many Italians used pancetta to make spaghetti carbonara,” but also for his observation that pancetta “is designed to be sliced paper thin and eaten as part of an antipasto or scrambled with eggs” (italics mine).

By the time he wrote this piece, Carbonara was already an immensely popular dish in the U.S., in part thanks to opera singers who mentioned it as their one of their favorite Italian dishes.

In an article published in 1962 entitled, “A Diva’s Proper Interest in Pleasures of the Table,” Claiborne wrote of soprano Eileen Farrell that “Miss Farrell speaks with warmth, however, of spaghetti carbonara.” It’s one of the earliest mentions of Carbonara, the dish, that I can find in the Times.

I’ve also found an instance where soprano Birgit Nilsson mentions it as a favorite Italian dish.

passerina frusinate

Above: Most Passerina comes from Abruzzo but this one, a 2011 by Macciocca, is raised in Latium (Lazio) in the township of Frosinone (Frusinate in dialect). It’s an example of the viticultural connection between Abruzzo and Latium, a relationship that’s even more evident in the regions’ gastronomic ties. This wine took a moment to open up and show its true colors but we both thought it was delicious once it did. Great acidity, balanced fruit, and a nice minerality that you don’t expect in Passerina.

I’ve never met an Italian who scrambles eggs with pancetta. And I was surprised by Claiborne’s observation.

Is it possible that Carbonara could be the child of American influence not via American soldiers (as some have speculated) but via opera singers who wanted eggs and bacon when they traveled to Rome to perform?

(Pancetta is Italian for cured pork belly, the equivalent of bacon.)

Browsing the Times archive for the word carbonara, I also came across a number of obituaries for persons named Carbonara.

It occurred to me that Carbonara, while not among the most common, is a relatively common surname, probably originating in Apulia (Puglia).

Then I started thinking about the wave of Apulian immigrants who came to New York in the 1950s and 60s (hence the prevalence of the surname in New York during those decades).

Could this be one of the elements that will help us to unfold the mystery of the origins of Carbonara?

One thing is for certain, the dish Spaghetti [alla] Carbonara appears for the first time in the post-war era (see my research here), when dried pasta became a popular dish in Rome and later throughout Italy (yes, it’s that recent).

Could the dish be the result of migratory influence and contamination coupled with the influx of American celebrities in the years after the second world war?

Either way, I’m glad that Brooklyn Guy got us thinking about it because Tracie P’s Carbonara is always delicious.

This is what we do at our house after Georgia P goes to bed: we make food, we open wine, and then we spend the better part of the evening talking about it. I am truly blessed.

Dulcis in fundo: yesterday, Italian wine maven Charles Scicolone posted about his recent trip to Italy, calling the Carbonara at Roscioli “the best in Rome.” His post includes a photo.

@SottoLA wine list named one of “best in LA” by @SIreneVirbila @LATimes #DreamComeTrue

sotto los angeles

Above: Our very first staff wine training at Sotto in Los Angeles when the restaurant opened more than two years ago.

What a thrill for me and Tracie P to learn that S. Irene Virbila has named the wine program at Sotto, where I co-curate the list, one of the “best” in Los Angeles!

It means even more to me because I grew up in Southern California and went to U.C.L.A. for both undergrad and grad: like it was yesterday, I remember my first starry-eyed meals at Valentino and Spago, two restaurants also named in this shortlist of top wine programs in Los Angeles. And now my name is up there with theirs! Wow…

fatalone primitivo

From day one, my co-curator and bromance Rory Harrington and I have taken a very radical approach to the list at Sotto and we’ve never strayed from that course. We have always featured food-friendly wines that truly reflect the grapes with which they are made, the place where those grapes are grown, and the people who grow them.

But like a tree that falls in the forest when no one is there to hear it thump, our wine list wouldn’t have any meaning if guests didn’t enjoy our selections. More than two years into this project, I never stop being thrilled by watching someone taste an old Taurasi, Gaglioppo, or Gioia del Colle Primitivo for the first time. Of all the rewards that this experience has delivered, this has been the greatest by far.

I’m currently on paternity leave from my monthly visits to the restaurant. But I’ll be back again in September and we already have some interesting wine events lined up for the fall.

Thanks SO much to everyone for supporting me and the restaurant in this adventure. And thanks from the heart to Ms. Virbila for taking the time to enjoy the wines that we love so much…

Grignolino & bbq tomorrow @StilesSwitchBBQ @VinoVinoWine & please read @EricAsimov

stiles switch

Above: Barbecue from Stiles Switch in Austin. Image via Fed Man Walking, a blog authored by former Austin American-Statesman folklore and food columnist Mike Sutter. Click here for his review of the restaurant.

When I first moved to Austin at the end of 2008, there really weren’t a lot of great bbq options in town. You had to drive out to Driftwood (Salt Lick), down to Lockhart (Kreutz et alia), or up to Llano (the original Cooper’s) for the real deal (although Sam’s on East 12th was always good in a pinch).

Then, in 2011, the Austin bbq war happened. A number of new and highly competitive places opened, including the highly praised Franklin’s. The not-so-collegial conflict was punctuated by thieves stealing raw brisket from the local supermarket chain H-E-B by stuffing them in their pants.

Although Franklin’s remains the darling of the national media, Stiles Switch (on the north side of town) emerged as one of the winners of the conflagration and was recently voted one of the top 50 bbq destinations in Texas by Texas Monthly.

It’s where Tracie P and I get our bbq and it’s also where my client Vino Vino will be hosting a dinner tomorrow night with the wines of Marchesi Incisa della Rocchetta — Grignolino and Barbera. $35 for bbq and Grignolino sounds pretty good to me

Tomorrow afternoon, Vino Vino will also be hosting its annual rosé wine festival, Pink Fest, one of the best wine events in town.

I’ll be at both happenings. Come out and taste with me if you’re in town!

In other news…

Please read Eric the Red’s EXCELLENT article today in the Times, “If Only the Grapes Were the Whole Story.”

“Think of wine as food,” he writes. “Concerns about where food comes from and how it’s grown, processed or raised ought to be extended to wine. If we ourselves don’t set standards for quality and authenticity, who will?”

Buon weekend e buona lettura, yall!

Confessions of a Natural wine addict (all is fair in love)

“A writer takes his pen and writes the words again/all is fair in love.”
—Stevie Wonder

dettori bianco

Above: Four of six bottles of Dettori 2010 Romangia Bianco have been fizzy and slightly sweet.

Dettori Romangia Bianco, a skin-contact wine from Sardinia made from 100% Vermentino grapes, is one of our all-time favorite wines.

Tracie P and I have a mini-vertical of the wine in our cellar and we buy a case of every new vintage to put down each year.

That’s just one of the reasons that I was so thrilled to see the wine finally make it to the Texas market (until now, I’ve bought the wine in California where I keep my cellar).

But the number-one reason was that we love drinking it.

dettori back label

Above: The Dettori back label with a note on the winery’s approach to vinfication. Click image for high-resolution version.

I can’t imagine that anyone, even the greatest Natural wine skeptic or detractor, would deny that Dettori’s wines are Natural wines.

As Alessandro Dettori writes on the back of each bottle, the only ingredients are grapes and sulfur. And no enzymes or additives (he calls them adjuvants) are used in vinification.

In my experience, the wines can be radically different from vintage to vintage. But their intense tannic component seems to keep the wines relatively stable although never homogenous.

dettori vineyard

Above: Alessandro Dettori in his “oldest vineyard.” I’ve never been to the winery but my friend Georgios Hadjistylianou graciously let me use these photos from his recent visit there. Here’s the photo album. Thanks again Georgios!

I won’t conceal my disappointment when four (so far) of six bottles turned out to be fizzy and slightly sweet.

When the importer came through town and tasted the wine with me earlier this month, the 2010 seemed to align with my previous experience. It was tannic and rich, very youthful in its evolution. I couldn’t wait to buy some.

And when my local wine merchant told me he was holding the last six bottles for me, I hurried to the shop to pick them up.

But I’m sad to report that somewhere along the way — probably due to the extreme and often capricious Texas heat — the wine underwent a secondary fermentation in bottle.

dettori cellar

Above: Cement vats at Dettori.

As Tracie P noted, they taste like vino paesano, the “country wine” that is often sold in demijohns in proletarian Italian wine shops. It’s fresh and bright, the alcohol and tannin are tame, the acidity is zinging, and the gentle spritz makes it even more food-friendly.

I’m a wine professional and am well aware that a flawed or corked bottle here and there are variables in the vinous equation. But four out of six bottles and counting could be grounds to ask for my money back.

But, no, I would never do that.

I’m a Natural wine addict and if nature — including the moody temperatures of my adoptive state — has delivered the wine in this condition, it’s my bitter sweet pill to swallow.

“We are artisans of the earth,” writes Alessandro on the back of his bottles. The wines are “what they have to be and not what you want them to be.”

We’ve been drinking the flawed but wholesome wine as an apertif and pairing it with early summer pesto and pasta al pomodoro. Not as cheap as a vino paesano but equally enjoyable.

It’s a wine that reminds us that all is fair in nature and in love…

Sergio Esposito acquires Biondi-Santi library in $5 million purchase (the blue chipization of wine)

sergio esposito italian wine

Esposito’s Italian Wine Merchants on 16th St. in Manhattan. Image via Google Places.

According to a press release issued last week by PRWeb, Italian wine merchant Sergio Esposito has purchased the Biondi-Santi library for $5 million.

The “7,000-bottle” archive stretches back to 1945.

A wine industry observer, who spoke to Esposito about the acquisition, told me that the winery’s owner Jacopo Biondi-Santi was facing financial pressures in the wake of business investments gone awry.

Jacopo is the son of Brunello patriarch and patrician Franco Biondi-Santi, who died less than two months ago at age 91.

The sale of the wine is significant because it is “the largest vertical collection sale in history of ‘blue chip’ Italian wines.” It also represents Esposito’s latest move in his quest to amass a behemoth-sized collection of investment-worthy Italian wines.

Esposito is the director of the Bottle Asset Funds, “a $50 million investment fund” founded in 2008 that invests in “‘blue chip’ wines in inefficient markets.”

franco biondi santi

Above: Brunello patriarch and patrician Franco Biondi-Santi died in early April 2013.

I worked as the media director at Esposito’s Italian Wine Merchants in Manhattan when it was still co-owned by celebrity chef Mario Batali and celebrity restaurateur Joe Bastianich, who pulled no punches in his brutal account of their business dealings.

In my view of the Italian wine world, the acquisition marks yet another milestone in the big-businessization of Italian wine.

Is that a good thing?

In the New Testament “Parable of the Talents,” the master praises his servants for investing well. No one can fault Esposito and his group of investment bankers for wanting to augment their business and increase their earnings.

But the moment a bottle of wine — the fruit of the vine — becomes a “blue chip,” it ceases to be an expression of a place and of the persons who tended that vine. It’s no longer the child of tradition and culture but a mere object to be traded among the world’s elite.

It’s the ultimate reification of agriculture. And the moment that we forget where that bottle comes from, we lose sight of the humanity that produced it. In that estrangement, we lose sight of ourselves.

eddy murphy trading places

Image via The Escapist.

What it means to be a Texan & remembering Melvin on Memorial Day

melvin croaker

Above: Melvin (above, right) taught me a lot about what it means to be a Texan.

Especially when I revisit the North American coasts where I used to reside, friends often ask me, so how do you like living in Texas?

When I tell them that I love living here, they sometimes respond with skepticism.

But you live in Austin! I love Austin. But that’s not really Texas.

To that, I answer quoting my cousin Jonathan Levy, a professor at Princeton and a native Houstonian.

“What a lot of people don’t realize,” he likes to say, “is that a lot of what they like about Austin is actually Texan.”

Great music? Texan.*

Barbecue? Texan.

Tex Mex? Texan.

Politeness, dignity, consideration, and humanity in personal interaction? Texan.

Continue reading →

Ribolla just plain Ribolla & cafeteria penne al pomodoro

bastianich adriatico

My goodness! Tracie P and I have almost four cases of wine stacked up in our samples corner!

That’s not a bad thing: I’m always game to taste wines I’m unfamiliar with and always geeked to taste new vintages of wines that I know and follow.

Luckily for us, the Texas summer is already here and it’s too hot to ship wine. And we have plenty of bottles that I need to sort through and taste in coming months.

The other night we opened the Bastianich Adriatico Ribolla, sent to us by my friend Wayne who works as the Bastianich “special ops” man in Friuli.

Continue reading →

White asparagus penne & @CanteleWines Negroamaro Rosato

penne white asparagus

Now that we’re rolling into the last few months of our second pregnancy, I’ve begun cooking dinner nearly every night so that Tracie P can rest at the end of her day.

The star of last night’s dinner was penne with white asparagus (above).

I peeled, trimmed, washed, and steamed a bunch of beautiful white asparagus until tender and then puréed the stalks and tips with about a quarter cup of white wine (I added the wine while the asparagus was still piping hot so that the alcohol would evaporate).

Then I folded in some freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano and an eighth of a cup of milk.

Before folding in the Rustichella d’Abruzzo (our house brand) penne, I added some of the pasta’s cooking water to the purée.

As Tracie P likes to say, one of the greatest feelings in the world is when your daughter enjoys eating something you cooked for her. Georgia P INHALED it. :)

best negroamaro rosato

Tracie P (who has a glass of wine a couple nights a week) and I paired with one of our all-time favorite Apulian wines, our good friend and client Paolo Cantele’s 2011 Rosato from Negroamaro.

The wine had actually been open since the night before but hadn’t lost any of its freshness or zing. And its balance of delicate tannin and fruit was a superb complement the sweet asparagus and salty Parmgiano Reggiano.

If I do say so myself, it couldn’t have been a better pairing.

Paolo and became fast friends back in 2009 when we first met and I’ve been giving him and his family a hand with their English-language media for about two years now.

This year, we launched a new blog devoted to their presence in the U.S. market, CanteleUSA.com.

Check out my post today for their blog on “Why Italians drink more rosé than you’d think”.

Rufina as spoken by Federico Giuntini A. Masseti

The latest installment of the ongoing Italian Grape Name and Appellation Pronunciation Project.

One of the greatest lacunae of the Italian Grape Name and Appellation Pronunciation Project has been the appellation name Rufina, pronounced ROO-fee-nah, with stress on the first syllable.

It’s a tough one for non-Italophones in part because they are accustomed to the stress falling the penultimate (as opposed to antepenultimate) syllable of most Italian words.

But it’s also challenging because many confuse it with the Chianti Classico producer Ruffino (roof-FEE-noh).

While there are a handful of Chianti Classico producers that I follow and collect, I believe that the greatest Chianti comes from the village of Rufina, where higher altitudes make for greater acidity and freshness in the wines. If you ever get a chance to visit the village, you’ll see how your ears pop as you drive up the winding road that leads to its center.

At this year’s Vinitaly, I asked Federico Giuntini A. Masseti, a Rufina native and managing director at one of my all-time favorite producers, Selvapiana, to pronounce Rufina for my camera.

Check out this excellent profile of the winery from the Dalla Terra website.

And please click here to view my thread of posts devoted to this special winery, one of Italy’s gifts to the world.

selvapiana 93

Solaris: disease-resistant hybrids make waves in Italy @CorriereDiVini @terrauomocielo

werner mornadell

Above: Werner Morandell netting his vineyards in the Mendel Pass (image via his Facebook).

As Giovanni notes today on his excellent blog Terra Uomo Cielo, this is the time of year when grape growers treat their vineyards with sulfur and copper to reduce the risk of fungal diseases, chiefly oidium and perenospora.

At the sound of the tractors’ motors revving up on their way to the vineyard, he is reminded that “not only do the products used to safeguard the fruit pollute. So does the movement of the tractors” belching out diesel aromas more offensive to Giovanni, he writes, than the smell of the sulfur.

There is at least one grape grower in Italy who believes he has found a chemical-free solution to fungal disease: Werner Monrandell (above), winemaker in German-speaking South Tyrol, where his “super-organic” vineyards have no need of sulfur or copper treatments thanks to disease-resistant hybrids he has been developing since 1993, Solaris and Bronner.

The latter is named after the researcher who developed it. The former, evidently, after the 1961 novel and 1972 film.

According to a post by Corriere della Sera wine writer Luciano Ferraro, published on Saturday, the dried-grape Bronner is already available for sale in Italy and the Solaris, while not commercially available, has been offered to Italian sommeliers and viticultural research institutes where it is being studied.

Morandell is one of roughly fifteen grape growers, mostly from Trentino-Alto Adige but also Piedmont and Veneto, who are working together on this project.

“Every year in Europe,” say Morandell in an interview with Luciano, “72,000 tonnes of poison (pesticides, fungicides, insecticides, herbicides, etc.) are scattered on the fruit crop. Roughly 70% of those are employed in viticulture and they leave a residue on the grapes. It’s time to stop this [practice] because it’s possible to make fabulous wines even without chemical treatments to combat oidium and peronospora.”

Some winemakers remain skeptical, like Giovanni, who recently became a grape grower himself.

“I wonder if Solaris will have the same results if it’s planted elsewhere,” he writes.