Photo by Louis Cevola |
Back in the late 1980’s I had finished a day’s work and headed home to an empty home. My son was gone and I was cooking for one. I’d picked up a T-bone steak at my last account and had a sample bottle of Sonoma-Cutrer Chardonnay. I know, odd. But those were the cards that were dealt to me. So, I dealt with it.
It was a summer day, so I set the grill up outside. One of the things I remember about one of my chef friend’s advice was to make dinner even if only for oneself. Don’t not do it because you’re flying solo. Good advice.
A medium-rare steak and a glass of Sonoma Chardonnay? Well, it was a stunning match, one that I remember, somehow, almost 40 years later.
Nearby my first home in East Dallas there was a pizza place. Nothing special, American style. But it was close and convenient. One day I ordered, out of the blue, a jalapeno and anchovy pizza. I paired it with a Bouchaine Sauvignon Blanc.
OK, OK, I know. I’m a little nuts. Not many folks can stand even the thought of anchovies. I know because when I was making Caesar salads tableside when I worked as a server, folks often asked me to leave them out. Their loss, I told myself. But, whatever.
In this case, again, I was at home. So, my rules, yes?
It was a surprisingly good match. The sharpness of the pizza going up against the acidity and strong fruit of the sauvignon blanc. If memory serves me correctly, the legendary Jerry Luper was making wine for Bouchaine and this sauvignon blanc was one of his creations. It was a hearty and worthy match. I know it sounds like a disastrous combination, but what Eric Asimov wrote recently in an article sums it up: “…the absolute best way to learn about pairing food and wine is to…drink wine with food.”
What about Italian wine, you ask? After all this is supposed to be an Italian wine blog, c'est ne pas?
It’s not really an odd pairing, at least in the place where I had it. And in the place where I spend most of my time, Texas, it probably isn’t too far-fetched either. For it plays into the spicy food culture and the warm-climate-needing-liquid-refreshment aura of the southwest.
I’m talking about a meal I had during the summer of 1988. We were staying at the Excelsior Hotel on the beach at San Benedetto. It was July, hot. Lunch was served in a room with open windows, and the warm breeze rolled though the dining room. The server, dressed in whites, brought a chilled bottle of rosé, Cerasuolo from the Montepulciano grape. Cherry bright, dry, spicy, damn sexy wine. Our serve followed with a perfect plate of Spaghetti all'arrabbiata. I can still bring up the taste of the wine and that pasta. Odd pairing? For some. For me, it was paradise.
"OK, all this was years ago, you might say?" Yes. "But what about in this century, cowboy?" OK, hold your horses.
Last night, after plowing through a plate a tagliatelle with home made red sauce and mama’s meatballs, I still had some Langhe Nebbiolo left in the glass. The producer was Marchesi di Gresy from Barbaresco. And the wine, a 2021, was delicate and refreshing, just a lovely bottle of wine. Would make a great by-the-glass at a casual Italian (or Mediterranean) spot. Juicy, nice acid, good fruit, great balance. Not too demanding, but a really good, honest glass of red. Anyway, I had a small dish of dark chocolate-covered raisins. Wow! That was a surprise. Just an off-the-wall combo, but for me it worked. Boy, did it work. Maybe a little too well (note from the scale, tell the ‘ol boy to back off on desserts and wine, in the next month or so).
Look, this is all so personal and subjective. But like the new world we live in, if you don’t like the reality you’re in, make up one that works for you. It works (so far) for 77 million Americans. So, own your truth. And if that means having a bottle of Napa Valley sauvignon blanc with a jalapeno and anchovy pizza, so be it.
Rules? As Katherine Hepburn once said. “If you obey the rules, you miss all the fun.”
Photo by Louis Cevola |