Over the years, I’ve written and recorded a lot of songs, with a lot of different bands and friends. Some of them have done well for me and our last record, …Nous Non Plus, was a top-10 college radio record for four weeks (a dream come true, right up there with opening for Ringo back in 2003).
Of all the tracks I’ve ever laid down, my favorites are on our new album Ménagerie.
Please help support independent music and our craft by purchasing our new album, asking your local indy radio station to spin it, and coming out to see us play at one of our upcoming shows (info and links below).
Thanks for your support: every drop makes a difference — it really does. I hope to see y’all at one of our upcoming shows!
Zink Magazine — Ménagerie is “a musically diverse and ambitious mélange… like a good Bordeaux, rich and fulfilling, with every sip becoming even more delectable.” (Can you believe they compared our music to Bordeaux?)
Above: Chef Julian Barsotti’s excellent Margherita at Nonna in Dallas last week, paired with Inama Soave Classico Superiore Foscarino 2006, one of my favorite expressions of Garganega. The bright acidity of this wine and its structure were a great match for the intense flavors of the mozzarella di bufala, tomato, and fresh basil. YES, I paired wine with pizza! Keep reading…
I was glad to see the doc have fun with it and the many colorful comments. One entry, however, merits special attention. Pinotage (“an international cyber-based fan club for wines made from the Pinotage variety”) wrote:
The statement about Italians in Italy not drinking wine with pizza doesn’t match up to the many times I have been in Italy. But maybe the giveaway is ‘pizzeria’, in other words the type of restaurant and their clientele. Pizzas are served in more upper class restaurants and Italians do drink with with them.
I suppose an Italian in the USA might come away with the idea that Americans don’t drink alcohol with chicken if they’d been saving money by eating in KFCs.
Above: Two slices at my favorite old-school, by-the-slice pizzeria in Bensonhurst, Da Vinci (6514 18th Ave at 65th St, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, NY 11204, 718-232-5855).
Let me set the record straight: in my view, there’s nothing wrong with pairing pizza and wine and I do it all the time. The observation culled from my blog by Dr. V actually referred to a would-be Italian cookbook author whose claim of “authenticity,” in my opinion, was undermined by the fact that he paired pizza with wine. Ask any Italian (I swear: I speak Italian with native-speaker proficiency, I lived in Italy on and off for ten years, I travel there regularly for my work, and I have a Ph.D. in Italian!). They will tell you that pizza is traditionally paired with beer. The fact of the matter is that pizza culture in Italy is a youth-based culture. The number of young enonauts in Italy has been growing steadily but wine consumption is a relatively new phenomenon among Italian young people.
Above: pizzaiolo Mark Iacono at my favorite NYC pizzeria, Lucali (575 Henry St and Carroll, Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, NY 11231, 718-858-4086). He’s cooler than Nicolas Cage in Moonstruck. Last year I did this post on the best pizza in NYC (worth checking out in my humble opinion, one of my top posts ever).
There are technical reasons for not pairing pizza and wine: the acidity of fresh plastic cheese (i.e., buffalo-milk mozzarella), tomatoes, and the intense flavor of fresh basil can easily overpower the nuance of fine wine. But “rules are rules” and I must confess: I have written many times on my blog about my guilty pleasure of pairing pizza and Nebbiolo.
Above: In San Diego, I have been often known to indulge in Produttori del Barbaresco 2004 Barbaresco and pizza at my top-spot for authentic Italian pizza, Mamma Mia (1932 Balboa Ave, where Balboa and Grand intersect) San Diego, CA 92109, 858-272-2702).
I do take ideological issue with Pinotage’s “upper crust” (forgive the pun) attitude that “Pizzas are served in more upper class restaurants” in Italy. It’s simply not the case (but then again, his blog is called “Pinotage,” so I should slice him some slack… I guess…).
Pizza is a wonderful part of Italian life but in terms of authenticity, it needs to be understood as an element of youth and popular culture. Pizza in the U.S. can be wonderful as well, but it is the result of that great misunderstanding otherwise known as the Atlantic Ocean.
Above: One of my favorite sequences from Pasolini’s 1966 Uccellacci e Uccellini (Hawks and Sparrows). Note the counterpoint between the joyous youth culture and the squalor of suburban Rome.
Aside from alliteration, what does Pasolini have to do with all of this? Nothing really: I currently find myself mired in that hellish experience called “indexing” and today, I happen to be on the letter P.
In his films, Pasolini repeatedly reminded us of the struggles and the beauty of popular culture (and by popular culture, I don’t mean Warholian culture; I mean the workaday culture of the populus).
In the U.S., drink whatever you want with your pizza. Have fun with it. Enjoy yourself. In Italy, try pizza paired with beer in a crusty ol’ pizzeria in Trastevere (Rome).
If you made it this far into the post, thanks for reading! Have a great week.
La Jolla won’t annoy ya
La Mesa what a place-a
Salinas is as keen as it can be
You’ll feel betta in Murrieta
Stomp your feet over Montecito
Go insane for the lovely terrain
Wait and see
Think about all the fun you’ve missed
Come on out here and get sun-kissed
If you really wanna live and not just exist
You better get across our old state line
— Mel Tormé
“California Suite” (1957)
Tracie B and I spent our first weekend back in La Jolla since I moved to Austin. The number-one-hit-song highlight was nephew Oscar’s first birthday party. The Riles-Parzen family gathered together in March, 2008, not long after he came into this world, for an “Oscar Party.” That’s brother Micah (Oscar’s dad), me, and the birthday boy (chewing on my lens cap!).
The night we got in, we were 8 for dinner at Jaynes (where else?). The food was great and we drank a fantastic 1997 Felsina Chianti Classico riserva (on the list at a great price) with our main courses and 1985 Brunello di Montalcino by Il Poggione courtesy of Benoit at the end of the fête.
The 97 Felsina showed an irresistible goudron note and its fruit and acidity were great with the seared ahi tuna. Nearly a quarter century in age, the 85 Poggione was bold, beautiful, and proud — with vibrant acidity and gorgeous fruit. I’ve tasted this wine a number of times over the last five years and it has never disappointed.
Saturday afternoon found us shopping with Judy at the Asian market in Kearny Mesa, 99 Ranch Market. On her shopping list: rice noodles, preserved mandarin oranges, persimmons.
Hot and sour wonton soup for lunch at Spicy City (4690 Convoy St Ste 107, between Engineer Rd & Opportunity Rd, San Diego, CA 92111, 858-278-1818). Also in Kearny Mesa. So good… I LOVE that place. (I used to get my pre-sbarbato highlights done at the Korean salon in the same shopping mall.)
On Saturday night, Tracie B and I were geeked for sushi with Judy at Zenbu but we wanted to check out the “hot rock,” too. Our waiter told us it was the “biggest rock” she had ever seen. (Thinly sliced beef is cooked on the scalding hot rock.)
I had no idea that my highschool buddy Matt Rimel, who owns Zenbu together with his lovely wife Jacky, was such a fan of Texas. He got this belt buckle there. A professional hunter, he travels to my new home state five times a year for bow hunting, he told me. He invited me to go boar hunting with him this year… I am SO there. Alfonso, you game?
Saturday night ended with a bottle of 2006 Lunar (whole-bunch-fermented Ribolla) by Movia at Jaynes. Benoit and I decided to decant it. I’ll do a post later this week on Lunar and the story behind it. Aleš Kristančič explained to me how he makes it when my band Nous Non Plus played at his winery in April 08. It’s incredible…
The rentacar screwed up and gave us a Mustang instead of the Pinto I had reserved. Me in a muscle car? Why not???!!! When we rolled up to the Jaynes Gastropub, martial arts instructor and bouncer at Air Conditioned next door, Alex, told me, there’s a tough guy underneath my nice-guy skin. He asked me rhetorically: “How else would you have survived so long?” Right on, brother, right on. I’m so glad I made it!
Above: No mixed emotions for me when it comes to 2004 Produttori del Barbresco. This is the stuff dreams are made of…
Last week took me to Dallas where I attended the Vias Imports tasting at the Italian Club of Dallas. It was an emotional occasion for me: I still hadn’t tasted any of the 2004 Produttori del Barbaresco crus and I was entirely geeked to taste the Pora (the only cru presented). I’ve been drinking 2004 Produttori del Barbaresco classic Barbaresco (i.e., blended from different vineyards) and the wine — from a cool and climatically balanced vintage — is showing gorgeously now. It’s going through a beautiful, open period in its youth. (Tracie B and I opened a bottle the other evening for dinner but finished it the next night with her killer nachos as we watched the Golden Globes: the wine actually became more tannic the next night!)
In my experience, Pora is among the softer Produttori crus and can be more approachable in its youth. No mixed emotion for me about this wine: I was thrilled to taste it and it’s sure to be one of the greatest expressions of this wine in my wine-drinking life.
Above: Always the gentleman, Alfonso Cevola jumped behind the tasting table to pour for food and wine writer Renie Steves.
I was also excited for my first taste of the 2005 Produttori del Barbaresco classic Barbaresco. The wine from this warmer vintage is more concentrated and not quite as elegant as the 2004. It is already very approachable and leans toward fruit flavor more than its older sibling.
Above: Salvioni’s 2003 Brunello di Montalcino is probably the best 2003 Brunello I’ve tasted.
Other highlights for me were the 2002 Gravners (Breg and Ribolla, less extreme than in previous vintages I’ve tasted — thank goodness!), Damijan 2004 (always), Dettori 2004 (probably my favorite wine from Sardinia, totally natural in style), Salvioni 2003 Brunello (incredibly balanced alcohol for this super hot vintage, so elegant and terroir-driven), and the 2006 bottlings of Dolcetto by Pecchinino (classic vintage for this wine, I really dug them).
One surprise was a wine that Robin really likes, Tenuta San Leonardo (Gonzaga) 2004 San Leonardo. I’m never such a fan of Bordeaux-style wines from Italy but this was showing nicely. It was interesting to taste it side-by-side with the 2003: I think that the cool summer of 2004 made for some great wines in Italy.
In other news…
Don’t forget to come see me, Tracie B, and NNP at the Mercury Lounge in NYC on Monday February 9. I’ll be posting updated info for our France 2009 mini-tour next week: we got bumped up to a better show than we thought in Paris… details to follow…
Above: Pickled jalapeños at a wine tasting? Only in Texas!
*****
The 1980s Richard Simmons look didn’t really work so well for Mick, did it?
Synæsthesia is “the use of metaphors in which terms relating to one kind of sense-impression are used to describe sense-impressions of other kinds; the production of synæsthetic effect in writing or an instance of this” (Oxford English Dictionary, online edition).
A famous example of synæsthesia is found in Dante, Inferno 33.9, where Count Ugolino says to Dante and Virgil:
parlare e lagrimar vedrai insieme (you will see me speak and weep together).
(This is also an example of zeugma, one of my favorite figures of rhetoric, if only for the term’s etymology.)
Synæsthesia is inherent to wine writing: when we describe wine, we use “one kind of sense-impression… to describe sense-impressions of other kinds.”
The wine descriptor velvety is a great example of this (Italian Wine Guy published this excellent post, The Allure of Velour, on its usage yesterday).
In our confabulationes, my comrade Howard and I often discuss synæsthesia in wine writing.
The other night he and I (he in the Hollywood Hills, I in Austin) exchanged messages on whether or not to decant a 2004 Valentini Trebbiano d’Abruzzo. The next day, he sent me the following tasting notes, which he graciously has allowed me to share with you.
We started with a Lambrusco rosé from Lini, which was subtler and more satisfying that I had expected. What I’d wanted was “amiable,” and it was that, to be sure, but there was also something come-hitherish which made all of us want to refill our glasses until it was gone.
The Valentini was another story — one with a narrative arc. It was dull, cloudy in the glass, and at first seemed like a seaside breeze, seashells in the sun, but old, distant, as if we were trying to hear a conversation at the other end of a transAtlantic cable. Then it thickened, notes becoming chords, with sweet second-order harmonics, lush feedback. It could have stayed there and we would have been happy. But then, about an hour in, it went all psychedelic on us. Weird aromas, flavor notes, speaking to each of us in individual tongues. For me, it was witch hazel and Pinaud Lilac Vegetal, taking me all the way back to the Brooklyn days when my uncle would walk me to the barbershop — I’d get a haircut, he’d get a shave, as the Men Born Elsewhere chattered in their native languages. The memories came flooding back. Then the Valentini got even stranger, more ethereal — and was gone.
To go with the cheese (a Manchego with membrillo, and a truly memorable Red Hawk from Cowgirl Creamery, a washed-rind triple cream, perfectly ripe, perhaps the best domestic cheese I’ve ever had) we opened another of the 1998 G. Conterno Barolos. The bottle we shared at Lou told a story (or many stories). This one never really lost its martial beat. It was stern, perhaps a bit disapproving. The cheese evolved before our eyes, but the wine simply looked on, aristocratic and unengaged. I look forward to seeing what it’s like this evening. It may not have been ready to yield up its pleasures, but time is on my side.
From this moment on, I hereby declare feedback to be a canonical wine descriptor!
Thanks for the tasting notes and photos, Howard.
Addendum:
The 2004 harvest was the penultimate vinified by Edoardo Valentini before his passing in April 2006.
Above: my new desk, given to me by Alfonso, means a lot to me.
“Though I always say, I and My Chimney, as Cardinal Wolsey used to say, ‘I and My King,’ yet this egotistic way of speaking, wherein I take precedence of my chimney, is hereby borne out by the facts; in everything, except the above phrase, my chimney taking precedence of me” (Melville, Herman. “I and My Chimney.” Putnam’s Monthly Magazine. March, 1856).
Herman Melville was remarkably fond and jealous of his chimney — so much so that it inspired a transgressive syntagmeme.
I and my desk: my new desk is a synecdoche for my vita nova here in Austin. The last year and a half have been filled with some amazing adventures but I am simply thrilled to be in one place again, to have a desk, and to feel purpose, meaning, and direction in my life again. My peregrination has happily come to an end.
Thanks for the wonderful desk, Alfonso! It has found a good home with me and I with it…
In other news…
Last night, I seared a beef filet and served with a red wine reduction, fennel braised in white wine, and pan-roasted fingerling potatoes.
Tracie B and I paired it with Dora and Patrizia’s excellent 2004 Vino Nobile di Montepulciano (Sanguineto). The wine showed beautifully: classic red fruit flavor, brilliant acidity, a little bit of delightful secondary fermentation, and balanced alcohol — a gorgeous manifestation of Sangiovese, terroir, and a classically Tuscan vintage. This is one of those wines that genuinely expresses its place and the people make it. I love it. (Thanks again, Lance, for finding it and turning me on to it!)
*****
I and my chimney will never surrender.
— Herman Melville
Neither Franco nor I can decipher the cryptic post published by the bishop of Barbaresco, Angelo Gaja (photo by Alfonso Cevola), at I numeri del vino (one of the most important resources in the enoblogosphere for hard data on Italian wine). Gaja seems to want his cake and eat it too, riding both sides of the fence in the Brunello controversy, warning producers that “nothing can be the same” while painting a rosy picture of a world of Italian wine free of commercial fraud. Read our faithful translation at VinoWire and let me know what you think.
Blogs I (can’t) read…
I haven’t been doing much blog-surfing lately because I am slammed with work right now and just finished my move to my new apartment in Austin. But there are some new feeds in my Google reader.
In the world of corporate blogging (clogging), I’ve really been enjoying Italian Wine Guy’s newest creation, The Blend. His insights into the current state of our industry should be required reading for any and all wine professionals (old and young).
An old comrade from the early days of the Italian wine and food revolution (think 1998-1999) in New York, Wayne Young, has taken up blogging from the far eastern front of the now Napoleonic empire (it’s funny how the revolution always becomes an empire, isn’t it?). Wayne’s winemaking knowledge is impressive and his “tell it like it is” anecdotes from the world of wine and wine writing are always thought-provoking.
When in the mood for some Lacanian musings (contemplating the signifier over the signified), I often find myself gazing mindlessly at two blogs I can’t read.
FinareVinare in Sweden often links to me and to Eric le Rouge. I have no idea what FinareVinare is saying but I know its author likes some of the same wines I do.
Billigt Vin, also in Sweden, is another one. When I “read” it, I’m like a young Petrarch with his cherished manuscript of Cicero: I can’t understand what the words mean but I know they mean something important (well, I don’t mean to compare myself to Petrarch — he was kind of a big deal, after all).
Lastly, I cannot omit a blog that I can read, Armadillo Bar by Alessandro, a long lost brother in wine and roots music and the greatest Austinophile on the planet. Sometimes, instead of checking the Austin Chronicle for what show Tracie B and I should go to, I just email Alessandro, who always responds with incredible celerity and pinpoint precision. Every time I see an armadillo on the road, I think of Alessandro and his blog.
Even if you can’t read it, Armadillo Bar is always worth the visit for the tracks Alessandro spins.
Thus beginneth the second year of white wine… (IWG got me excited about Latin this morning.)
Last year was my first official “year of white wine.” Tracie B and I kicked off the second last night with colleagues at our favorite Austin wine bar Vino Vino.
The 2006 Santa Chiara by Paolo Bea was deep golden in color (the result of skin contact during maceration, no doubt) and showed gorgeously. My favorite vintage of this wine so far.
The 2005 Savennieres Les Clos Sacrés was oxidized and unctuous, “mouth watering,” in Tracie B’s words (I’ll leave you salivating for her tasting notes at My Life Italian).
And while I’m loving Josh Loving’s superb list at Vino Vino (and was very psyched to find out he’s a fan of my band Nous Non Plus!), the most intriguing wine was brought by one of my colleagues: Anas-Cëtta by Elvio Cogno, a grape variety I’d never tried before. Click here for the fact sheet.
Above: “Maguro sashimi and goat cheese with cracked pepper, Fuji apple and pumpkin seed oil” at Uchi in Austin. If that’s not fusion, then grits ain’t groceries and eggs ain’t poultry…
There’s a new category at Do Bianchi: de austinopoli or on the city of Austin. It appeared for the first time over the weekend, with the “beans don’t burn in the kitchen” post (btw, I swear it wasn’t me who burned the beans: they were burning in Tracie B’sneighbor’s apartment). Austin is my new home (my new desk is arriving this week!) and I’ve already begun posting about our enogastronomic experiences here in Texas. (On Kim’s recommendation, I’ve been reading T. R. Fehrenbach’sLone Star, a history of Texas, which I find fascinating — the book and the historia.)
Above: “Avo bake, creamy baked tiger shrimp and krab [sic], served in an avocado.” We ordered this dish on the recommendation of my new hair stylist, Felicia. It was a fresh and delicious take on the ubiquitous crab/shrimp casserole you find in Californian “sushi” restaurants.
I’ll confess that I was highly skeptical when so many of my friends (Californians among them) suggested that I take Tracie B to Austin’s top “sushi” destination Uchi. Raw fish in land-locked central Texas? Not exactly in line with the Danny Meyer motto if it grows with it, it goes with it.
What we found was not a “sushi” restaurant per se but a truly delightful and entirely playful “fusion” menu. The restaurant’s signature dish, in particular, “Maguro sashimi and goat cheese” (raw fish and caprine dairy?) seemed to challenge the very tenets of our occidental palates. (In many parts of Italy, for example, the mixture of fish and dairy is considered as taboo as the contact of meat and dairy in kashrut.)
As Franco often points out, rules are rules: I cannot conceal that we both found the confluence of textures to be ethereal (including the delicately unctuous quality of the pumpkin seed oil), the savoriness of the fish an excellent complement to the slightly sweet cheese, and the fattiness of the materia prima utterly decadent.
Rarely do you find waitstaff so knowledgeable (our bartender Scranton was extremely helpful in navigating the unusual menu and negotiating the extensive sake list; he made the long wait at the bar on a Friday night well worth it). We thoroughly enjoyed our experience.
Above: “Tomato katsu, panko-fried green tomatoes.” Need I say more?
In other news…
Who’s Who in America just published these interviews I did with Josh Greene, Eric Asimov, and Lettie Teague (click to read). We had fun with the Q/A and you might be surprised by some of the responses. Buona lettura!
*****
If I don’t love you baby,
grits ain’t groceries,
eggs ain’t poultry,
and Mona Lisa was a man.
I’d never had to call 911 until today. Tracie B and I were hanging around her apartment this afternoon and I was working on the final touches to my Italian cinema translation when we heard a smoke alarm sounding off. We were greeted by a waft of smokey aroma when we went outside.
Emergency services put me on the line with the fire department and it took them about 5 minutes to get here. They broke down the door of apartment 109 (across from Tracie B’s) and found a pot of beans burning on the stove. They told me that I did the right thing by calling, saying that the apartment could have easily been lost, as could have the apartment above it.
“It’s frequently beans,” said one of the fireman stoically.
The police came as well and so did a fire department Chaplain (above). He shook my hand before they left.
Over the years, I’ve written and recorded a lot of songs, with a lot of different bands and friends. Some of them have done well for me and our last record, …Nous Non Plus, was a top-10 college radio record for four weeks (a dream come true, right up there with opening for Ringo back in 2003). 
Synæsthesia is “the use of metaphors in which terms relating to one kind of sense-impression are used to describe sense-impressions of other kinds; the production of synæsthetic effect in writing or an instance of this” (Oxford English Dictionary, online edition). 
Neither 
Do Bianchi by Jeremy Parzen 