Heading to the hospital! #BabyP2013
Bufalina! GREAT pizza and Cornelissen FINALLY make it to Austin, new era for city’s food scene
Above: Italian-American owner and pizzaiolo Steven Dilley studied pizza baking in Naples and is a perfectionist when it comes to delivering the classic Margherita. Tracie P and I were both duly impressed and I do not hesitate to say that this is one of the best pizzas in the U.S. today (and I eat a lot of pizza in a lot of different American cities).
On Saturday night, thinking that a bottle of Natural wine, a great Neapolitan-style pizza, and a “date night” might be just the thing to tempt fate and bring on Tracie P’s labor, we went out for an early dinner at Austin’s new Bufalina.
Our friend Steven Dilley — an Italian and Natural wine lover and a brilliant collector of fine wine — has been talking about his dream to bring authentic Italian food to Austin for nearly two years. And he’s finally succeeded in opening his small, cozy restaurant.
There’s no doubt in my mind that Bufalina will be remembered as a watershed in this Italian-hungry town.
Above: As with a Gibson Custom Shop Gold Top Les Paul guitar, the instrument is only as good as the person who uses it to perform. Steven not only brings his professional training as a pizzaiolo to the table but he also delivers his experience as an Italian-American and a connoisseur of Italian gastronomy. That’s him [hu]manning the oven.
Steven’s menu is simple: a handful of fresh appetizers, salads, cheese and charcuterie plates and — on the night we visited — five classic pizzas.
Even the “Fresca,” which some might view as falling outside the rigidly traditionalist canon, is a ubiquitous dressing in Naples today and is among the most popular pizzas among young people (Tracie P noted drawing from experiences of living in Ischia and Naples for nearly five years).
But what will really make Bufalina stand apart from the small crowd of Italians in Austin is Steven’s deft hand, his verve with peal, and his sensibility and experience as someone who has traveled and lived in Italy and who dines regularly in major U.S. markets (where the pizza wars, however quiet these days, still continue to inform our nation’s pizzaioli).
There’s no question that he’s raised the bar for his peers and his colleagues. Just look at the pizza above: perfectly undercooked in the middle, burned but not too much so on the edges, not too thick, and topped with classic wholesome ingredients. The apotheosis of the Margherita.
Above: I never thought I’d live to see the day that Cornellisen would be available in Texas! Regrettably, I’ve ruffled more than one feather by writing about the hard-to-crack wine distribution system here in Texas (and I feel really shitty about that). But with so many young, adventurous distributors and importers popping up lately, I have to concede that I was wrong. The system is working great and it’s working wonders. As Steven wrote to me the other day in an email, “it’s hard to complain these days.”
But the thing that the opening of Steven’s pizzeria will be remembered for, perhaps more than anything else, is his truly extraordinary wine list (see his menu and list here).
It’s a small, tightly focused list and it’s dominated by Natural wine, biodynamic wine, and acidity-driven, food-friendly, lip-smackingly delicious wine.
We drank the rosato by Cornelissen, arguably the world’s most radical Natural winemaker) and it showed beautifully (click here for a thread of posts on the wines of Frank Cornelissen).
At 41-weeks pregnant, Tracie P is extremely attentive about the foods she eats and the wines she tastes. I can’t think of a better wine to pour for her: Frank’s wines have nothing added to them whatsoever (not even sulfur) and they are raised in growing sites on the slopes of Mt. Etna (as he explained to me last year in Los Angeles) where chemical farming was never employed. Like Soldera, he told me, he sought out vineyards where he could achieve his vision unfettered by the yoke of herbicide and pesticide. And his wines have an unmistakable clarity and Technicolor quality in their aroma and flavor.
But there were so many other wines on the list that would have fit the bill: Roagna, Foradori, Occhipinti. And beyond Italy: Pépière (yes, it’s in Texas, I learned from Steven’s list!), Jean Paul Brun, Lioco.
The wine scene in Austin has changed significantly significantly since I moved here nearly five years ago. And Steven’s list wouldn’t have been possible when I first arrived.
His carta dei vini is a bold statement in a city where most Italian wine comes from country’s great négociant producers.
Above: Tracie P and I had a fantasy that her water would break at the restaurant. But, alas, we’re now officially 41-weeks pregnant. We’re headed to the doctor shortly and we’ll make a decision about whether and when to induce her labor. We’re so grateful for all the thoughts and wishes we’ve received here on the blog, Facebook, and the Twitter.
There are many new restaurants opening in Austin this summer and this fall. As Austin’s food scene continues to evolve and expand, more and more wine directors and sommeliers are making a shift from wine lists dominated by the usual suspects to wine lists that challenge and hopefully broaden their guests’ sensorial horizons.
Once things settle down at the Parzen household, we’re looking forward to trying (and writing about) all of them.
In the meantime, a wholesome Margherita for daddy and a glass of Cornelissen rosé for mommy really hit the spot…
An American in Paris and Parzen family expansion update
Man, Friday was a really bad day.
41-weeks-pregnant mommy slept in and I got up with Georgia P.
I made her breakfast of scrambled Parmgiano Reggiano eggs and wholewheat quesadillas and we went through all of our regular morning rituals.
Then suddenly, as Georgia P was rolling around with couch cushions (as she loves to do), something — we don’t know what — scratched her cornea.
Corneal abrasions are extremely painful and this was our first episode of having to rush to the doctor with a child who was literally writhing in pain.
I softly wept and wept as I held her in my arms and sang to her her favorite song (Nadia) at our pediatrician’s office.
Georgia P’s eye bandaged to protect it from light (the only remedy), we returned home and she went down for a long nap.
We spent the rest of the day at home, eating ice cream and watching a double dose of Sesame Street, the only show she is allowed to watch (Elmo and Abby are her favorites).
After her dinner, she went down to sleep.
And voilà! The next day it was as if nothing had happened.
Saturday turned out to be a super fun day, with a visit to the park and lunch of Thai noodles that she slurped up with gusto (see the video below).
In the late afternoon, when it was too hot to go outside, we watched the 1951 musical An American in Paris.
Georgia P really loved the final dream-dance sequence (one of the most brilliant moments in American cinema imho).
And when the lovers embraced at its climax, she threw her arms up in the air in joy (above).
And I softly wept and wept…
In other Parzen family news…
There’s really not much news to report. We are now 41 weeks pregnant, one week past our official due date.
We have a ob/gyn appointment first thing tomorrow and it’s likely that we’ll set a time to induce Baby P 2013 and get Tracie P’s labor started.
Thanks for all the wishes and thoughts. They mean the world to us.
This pregnancy has been a healthy and relatively easy one. But little Baby P 2013 is being a bit stubborn about coming into this world.
These last few weeks have been pretty tough. But we’re almost there…
Texas Frito Pie and Schiava brilliant pairing @stilesswitchbbq
Houston, we have a problem…
The bbq at Stiles Switch in Austin (around the corner from our house) is just too damned good to resist.
And our daughter has become addicted to their chopped beef.
The folks at Stiles Switch use chopped beef and beans to finish their Frito pie: a pan-Southern dish typically made with Fritos topped with chili and shredded cheese (in Texas, it’s generally made with classic Texan “chili con carne,” which doesn’t claim beans as one of its ingredients).
When I chided the pit master this week about why Stiles Switch adds the designation “Texas” to its “Frito pie,” he noted that it’s “Texas” because of the fact that they use chopped beef (instead of chili).
Well, I’m not one to split hairs about such things… ;)
We paired the Texas Frito pie (yes, there are Fritos underneath that mess of beans, chopped beef, pickled jalapeños, and cheese) with bright, fresh, slightly chilled Schiava by Laimburg.
The wine is so focused and pure, so refreshing and its alcohol so well balanced by the brilliant fruit and acidity, that the next day, even Mrs. B aka “nanna” (who doesn’t care much for red wine) couldn’t stop talking about how good it was.
It’s such a great metric for the quality of wine, no? When you’re still talking about it the day after, it must have been outstanding.
Don’t mess with Texas bbq! And don’t get between a girl and her chopped beef!
Frito pie would be a bit overwhelming for little Georgia P. But a heaping helping of Stiles Switch chopped beef with a side of mac and cheese was just right.
Buona domenica (happy Sunday), yall!
Merlot’s malignment & an under-$30 Saint-Émilion that I dug @EatingOurWords @HoustonPress
Eataly founder Oscar Farinetti bans racist politician
Above: Eataly founder and Italian entrepreneur Oscar Farinetti with Uman foundation president and environmental activist Giovanna Melandri in Rome, October 2012 (image via the Uman Foundation Flickr).
“Entry to Eataly is forbidden to people like [Italian senior parliamentarian] Calderoli,” said the food emporium’s founder Oscar Farinetti to a radio interviewer this week in Italy, adding that the ban was “for hygienic reasons.”
He was referring to Roberto Calderoli, Northern League (Separatist) party member and vice-president of the Italian senate, whose recent racist comments have been the subject of controversy this week in Italy.
At a political rally on Saturday in Treviglio (Lombardy province), Calderoli used a racial slur in reference to Italy’s first African-born minister, Italo-Congolese politician and opthamologist Cécile Kyenge.
Calderoli and his racist cohorts, suggests Farinetti in the interview, “shouldn’t just resign from politics… They should resign from the human race… They lack the conscience that distinguishes humans from chimpanzees.”
You can listen to the interview here.
As an Italian wine and food historian and an observer of Italy’s wine and food trade, I applaud Farinetti for his “no racists allowed” policy.
His statements came in response to the interviewer’s question: As someone who works abroad, are you ever embarrassed by the attitudes of Italian politicians?
While many international ambassadors of Italian wine and food avoid the sticky, unsavory issues of politics and racial tensions in Italy today, Oscar Farinetti’s decisive stand on this issue — zero tolerance for the manifest racism expressed by Italy’s separatist movement leaders — deserves our attention and commands our respect.
Enogastronomy is one of the greatest expressions of the Italian soul — no matter what the political affiliation. As the highest-profile representative of Italian wine and food throughout the world, Farinetti’s example should be a model for us all.
At my favorite trattoria in Florence #FoodPorn #MimeticDesire
No, I’m not at my favorite trattoria in Florence, Buca dell’Orafo. But Cousin Marty and the Levy clan were there last night and these are the photos they sent.
Has the mimetic desire kicked in yet?
Today is Marty’s birthday: happy birthday, Marty! We love you so much!
Cousins Marty and Joanne are currently touring Italy with their son (my cousin) Jonathan and his girlfriend Chiara who is from Viterbo.
And Marty asked me for some dining recommendations.
When I moved to Texas five years ago to be with Tracie P, I never imagined that I would reconnect on such a deep level with my cousins from the “estranged” side of my family (my father and Marty are first cousins).
But we’ve all grown really close and they have been so supportive of me and our new family here in Austin.
And now that things are getting so serious between Jon and Chiara (Marty and Joanne met her parents for the first time on this trip), our Italian connection is even stronger!
Chiara, who, like Jon, is an academic superstar, loves to tease me about my Veneto accent and we all had a great time visiting when they came out to see my band’s show in San Francisco earlier this year.
Chiara, Jon, Joanne, and Marty: thanks for sending the pics! As we wait patiently at home for Baby P 2013 to arrive (no developments), it’s great to live vicariously through your enogastronomic adventures! I love it…
baci e abbracci
“Universe in a glass of wine”: who really said that? The answer…
Above: Portrait of Galileo Galilei (1564-1642) by Justus Sustermans (1597-1681; image via the Wiki).
Reading the excellent Italian-language food and wine blog Porthos this morning, I was reminded by the authors of the famous and brilliantly topical lecture by U.S. physicist Richard Feynman, “The Universe in a Glass of Wine.”
“A poet once said,” it begins, “‘the whole universe is in a glass of wine.’ We will probably never know in what sense he said that, for poets do not write to be understood. But it is true that if we look in glass of wine closely enough we see the entire universe.”
Click here for the entire text (it’s very short) and the audio. If you’ve never heard it, it’s worth listening (in part because Feynman’s immense ability as orator).
(Today’s post on Porthos takes the form of a Socratic dialog on biodynamics and Natural wine and the interlocutors cite Feynman as an example of the powerful mythology of Nature as expressed through wine.)
Feynman doesn’t seem to know who the poet was. (And he notes — for comic effect but erroneously in my view — that poets “don’t write to be understood.”)
I believe that the imagery comes from a “scientific letter” by Italian philosopher Lorenzo Magalotti (1637-1712) who cites Galileo’s [attributed] maxim, wine is a compound [mixture] of moisture [humor] and light (il vino è un composto di umore e di luce).
Note that humor denoted moisture in seventeenth-century Europe (cfr. “1697 Dryden tr. Virgil Georgics i, ‘Redundant Humours thro’ the Pores expire,'” Oxford English Dictionary).
This celebrated observation of the physical world was transmitted anecdotally by Galileo’s student Raffaello Magiotti (1597-1656), who is quoted by Magalotti in the letter.
In the text (the fifth letter in the collection), he uses the maxim as a thesis in his dissertation on the nature of light. The grape and its transformation, he writes, are a perfect example of light’s ability to “penetrate a body.”
In Dante’s Commedia (Purg. 25, 76-78), the Latin poet Statius compares G-d’s creation of life to Nature’s transformation of moisture into wine by means of light:
- E perché meno ammiri la parola
guarda il calor del sol che si fa vino,
giunto a l’omor che de la vite cola.
[And, that you may be less bewildered by my words,
consider the sun’s heat, which, blended with the moisture
pressed from the vine, turns into wine.]
(Some have translated Dante’s omor [umore] with the English sap but moisture is a more accurate translation, especially given the context.)
In the light of Dante’s popularity during Galileo’s time, it’s likely (guaranteed, really) that Galileo was familiar with these lines. Magalotti cites the Dantean verses as well in his letter.
So did a poet once say that you could see the whole universe in a glass of wine?
It’s possible but unlikely.
Did the poets, as far back as Statius, consider wine to be a substance that could reveal the nature of the universe? Yes, most definitely.
Like me (however small I am compared to those giants), they were negotiating the epistemological implications of oenophilia.
Thanks for reading…
Tannic 2008 Produttori del Barbaresco & veal chop with cremini sautéed in white wine
We’re in a sort of limbo these days: now one day after our official due date, Baby P 2013 could arrive at any moment but there are still no signs of labor (yesterday Tracie P had a labor-inducing massage; today, she’ll do acupuncture).
Usually for my birthday dinner, I grill a porterhouse steak Florentine-style and open one of my favorite Langa crus or a Brunello Riserva from a favorite producer.
But this year, knowing that I wouldn’t be having more than a few glasses of wine and not wanting to tempt fate with immodesty, I pan-fired a beautifully tied veal chop and finished it with cremini mushrooms that I had sautéed and deglazed with white wine (some Dettori 2009 Romangia Bianco, for the record). And I opened a bottle of 2008 Produttori del Barbaresco (classic) Barbaresco, a label that you will always find in my Saturday-night cellar selection and one of my all-time favorite wines. (I pan-fired a filet mignon for Tracie P, who’s been craving red meat in these last weeks of the pregnancy.)
In my experience, the greatest expressions of Langa Nebbiolo will be fresh and bright, with vivid fruit flavor, in their early youth. But then suddenly, as if dropping off a continental shelf, they plunge into the tannic depths of traditionally made Nebbiolo.
The bottle I opened on Saturday night, my birthday eve, had already crossed the threshold of this “shut-down” period. And as much as I enjoyed the wine, it was much more generous with its fruit the next night (paired with quesadillas). Just a few months ago, it was still very bright when first opened.
I can hear my wine board fellows crying infanticide!
But in my view of the vinous world, this episode is all part of the joy in watching a wine evolve and remembering each development over the course of my relationship with it.
I drank just two glasses of it on Saturday night and then we finished it on Sunday night (by which time it was showing brilliantly, although still very tannic).
Moral of the story: in keeping with my maxim, never expedite wine, I just needed to give the bottle a day to open up and share its fruit with me.
Thanks again to everyone for the wonderful birthday wishes (mine and Baby P 2013!)! They mean the world to us…


















