queue de boeuf à l'haïtienne

When I read the Knipples' book The World in a Skillet, many all of the recipes made me hungry. However, one jumped out as the dish I'd have to try first. I've never had Haitian food before: check. I love oxtails and habaneros: double check. Opportunity to make hot sauce for the first time: check. Eight hours of marinating plus six hours of cooking: be still my beating heart.

Haiti is the western half of the island Hispanola, and notoriously the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. It became independent from France in 1804 following a slave rebellion led by Toussaint Louverture. Haiti has had a complicated and sad history that would take far too long to tell here. The US hasn't exactly been a friend of the country for most of the past 200 years, with the embargoes and refusal to acknowledge a sovereign Haiti for most of the 19th century and the US military occupation from 1915-1934. Today, most Haitian immigrants are in South Florida or in large cities like New York. Though I've met a few Haitians in my lifetime, there's not much of a presence either in people or food here in Memphis.

This recipe has three parts: a habanero hot sauce, a marinade, and the actual braising of the oxtails. I made the marinade first. Known as epis, you take herbs and garlic and oil and vinegar and onion and other goodies and make a thin pesto. This can be used either for marinating pieces of meat or as a flavorful punch up to other recipes. The recipe called for parsley as the main herb, but I decided to go with the variation listed in the sidebar and use cilantro instead. Since I'd already alienated several people with the hot peppers and the offal, I decided to go all the way and make myself happy with yet another contentious ingredient. Saturday evening I rinsed the oxtails, covered them in epis and let them sit overnight.

(As an aside, I completely shut down a lane at the grocery store with the purchase of oxtails and habaneros. Neither were labeled, neither had SKUs on the cheat sheet, and clearing up both took a solid 15 minutes as I apologized to the customers behind me and tried to explain to the poor checkout girl why I enjoyed eating chopped up cow tails. This is not the first time this has happened to me, and it won't be the last.)

Making the habanero hot sauce was my next adventure that night. Eight habaneros, a carrot, half an onion, a little white wine vinegar and sugar and the juice of two limes. Blend until smooth. Now, the recipe was responsible and suggested wearing gloves. I've never really had a problem processing peppers before, but I've never made hot sauce or used an open bowl with a stick blender with hot peppers before. Not a great idea. The capsaicin became aerosolized and I got a nice zingy dose to the nose, lungs, and most of my exposed skin. I'm still stinging a bit in places, but the upside is that my sinuses are clearer than they've been since I was born.

I made enough to fill three of these little tubs. One was used with Sunday dinner and the other two were sealed and sent to the CDC in Atlanta and the State Research Center of Virology and Biotechnology in Koltsovo, Novosibirsk Oblast, Russia (Вектор).

If you decide to do this, use an enclosed blender or food processor, wear gloves, and maybe goggles and a mask. And if you're in the habit of wiping your hands on a kitchen towel after chopping vegetables, go ahead and toss that towel in the washer before a roommate or family member happens to come by and use it. The resulting sauce is thick and bright--almost unnaturally orange, though I didn't add anything artificial to it. Definitely hot but with that sweet habanero flavor and good balancing from the limes' acidity and the carrot's additional sugar.

I started the third part (the braising) around ten in the morning on Sunday. Put the oxtails in the Dutch oven, add a can of tomato sauce and a little water, and bring to a slow boil. Remove from the stovetop and put the entire thing in the oven for six hours. I skipped the last part involving browning the oxtails with onions and tomato paste--everything was browned and nicely tender and caramelized and any further cooking would just ruin things.

I threw a little turmeric in the rice, and have to say that the meat was incredible. Tender and flavorful and full of intense elements from the bones and fat and everything else. The hot sauce was still good on the second day but milder and fruitier. Julia, having her first encounter with oxtails said, "Tastes like pot roast, but not as stringy." I'm impressed with the recipe but in the future I'll probably roast at a lower temperature and add some things like beer or chicken broth or white wine to the braising liquid. The habanero hot sauce is delicious, but I'm going to need a new set of friends to share that level of heat.

Benito vs. the Cold and Rain: Bœuf Bourguignon

Following a wine tasting with Fredric, I snagged a couple of leftover bottles of Mazzocco Zinfandel. We tasted through eleven bottles, and I've written previously about the wines during my visit to the winery. I'm not going to go into detail on the wines here, but I will note that fresh out of the bottle many of them are hot and hard to appreciate--15-16% alcohol on all of them, with a few creeping up a bit above 16%. However, with a day of rest after opening, or a few hours of decanting, they're really quite pleasant.

If you find yourself in possession of a pint of leftover red wine, then it's a good excuse to make the classic French dish Bœuf Bourguignon. I roughly followed the recipe from the New York Times, and in the attached article it was noted that the Julia Child recipe, while popular with the success of the recent movie, is too much for the residential kitchen. This is originally a peasant dish that is simply made in a single cooking pot.

I'm not bashing dear Mrs. Child here, nor am I slighting those loyal fans that have gone home and faithfully recreated her recipe. I'm sure it's delicious. But I've made demi-glace from scratch. It took 12 hours. I've made traditional Sauce Robert that took two days. I've helped cook a whole hog that required 24 hours of slow roasting. Sometimes I want the challenge and wish to dirty up every pot and pan in the kitchen. Other times I just want to make dinner.

Served over a bed of broad flat noodles and enhanced with a double quantity of mushrooms, the one-pot dish provided a satisfying dinner for the three of us at the table. Two went back for seconds, always a good sign. With cold weather right around the corner, this is a perfect fall/winter recipe that is even better as leftovers. As with many savory stews, the flavors mingle and improve with a day or two of rest in the refrigerator.

Ribeye Roast, Before and After

Paul and I ended up cooking a ribeye roast recently after a trip to the Memphis Farmers Market. Now, the beef came from Costco, but the new potatoes, the red spring onions, and the fresh shiitake mushrooms all came from the market. The potatoes (some as small as a marble) were cooked in cast iron with butter and rosemary, the onions were slow cooked in foil for several hours with the beef, and the mushrooms were briefly sautéed in butter.

For wine we opened, and decanted for several hours, the 2006 Coppola Claret, $20, 13.7% abv. 82% Cabernet Sauvignon, 7% Petit Verdot, 4% Merlot, 4% Malbec, and 3% Cabernet Franc. Deep black cherry and blueberry flavors, hint of violets, with a smooth and luscious mouthfeel. It manages to have a full dark fruit aroma and flavor without being a typical California fruit bomb.

The following day, it was time for sandwiches. Cold, sliced, rare ribeye roast is one of the most wonderful things in the world. I'm surprised that it's not forbidden by major world religions.

(It should be clearly evident that I was starving in the first photo, resulting in terrible composition, while in this one I had enough time to set it up properly. Bear in mind that whatever I shoot for this blog, I eat--no fake food or props here on BWR.)

The sandwich is made from thick-sliced, toasted sourdough from Panera, the aforementioned rosbif, redleaf lettuce, Campari tomatoes, aged sharp cheddar, and a generous slather of horseradish mustard. Add in a side of rosemary and garlic frites, and this is definitely in the top five sandwiches I've eaten in my entire life.

Benito vs. the Porterhouse: Vertical Steak

One of the reasons why I've never been attracted to restaurant work is that I get tired of cooking the same ingredient the same way, over and over again. Even when I perfect a technique through practice, I'm generally ready to move on to the next challenge. In this case, I decided to cook the steak vertically. It wasn't thick enough to stand up on its own, so with the addition of a bamboo chopstick I was able to provide some stability. I slow cooked the 2½ lb. monster at the "Warm" setting of the oven (around 175°F) until the probe thermometer read a lovely rare 125°F internal temperature.

I was pleased with the final result. The major benefit of this method is that it slowly renders out some of the fat while providing even cooking all around. Downside? You can really only do it with a thick Porterhouse or T-Bone. I think a ribeye hung from a hook or string might just fall off due to tenderness. The steak carved up nicely, easily feeding three people with leftovers for salads the next day... and one diner gnawed on the bone for some of those hard-to-reach morsels. (No shame in that, I've done it myself many times.) For sides, I steamed broccolini with lemon wedges and roasted my dear golden beets for an hour before slicing them up and further cooking with olive oil and Chinese five-spice powder.

We tried a couple of wines that evening, but the others go along with future themed posts. However, the odd man out was the NV True Earth Red Blend $13, Mendocino, California. 52% Cabernet Sauvignon, 43% Merlot, 5% Petite Sirah. This is a 100% organic offering from the irreverent guys at Three Thieves. Black pepper, cherry, creamy finish, tart raspberry elements. On the old Venn diagram it falls smack dab in the center of bargain, organic, and mass-produced, what some call "corporate organic". But it's a fun little wine that will be great with burgers from the grill later this summer. Whether those burgers are made from cheap ground beef or free-range buffalo is your choice entirely.

2004 Bell Sonnette

I had a crazy idea the other day of a vaguely Japanese steak dinner, something to break up the meat-and-potatoes routine. Or the organ meat and odd critters routine. I started things off with some miso soup. I cheated here, using a concentrated miso import, but my fellow diners and I were very happy with the results. To the savory broth I added chopped green onions, cubed firm tofu, and plenty of enoki mushrooms. Enokitake have a great buttery flavor, as well as a texture that's like a bean sprout when raw and like a noodle in soup. Don't overcook these, but they add a lot of flavor to dishes. (Plus I love the fact that they look like some crazy wild thing you'd find growing on a dead log in the forest. Forbidden fungus... Mmmmmmm...)

I promise that I'll get my konbu and katsuobushi together to make a real bowl of miso shiru. Watch this blog for a future update!

For the main course I had organic grass-fed ribeyes marinating in soy sauce, slow roasted to rare in the oven and then seared off in a hot skillet. I also made another batch of the Napa cabbage and watermelon radish slaw from a few posts ago. Might as well enjoy it while those beautiful radishes are still around.

The wine was the true star of the evening. The 2004 Bell Sonnette is from Napa and was a real treat. $50, 14.6% abv. 52% Cabernet Sauvignon, 25% Merlot, 12% Cabernet Franc, and 11% Petite Verdot. This was a gift from my friend Paul, and I'm going to be hard pressed to top this one in 2009. I've always been a fan of Bell, and this little treasure is worth getting if you can find it--this was bottle 212 of 2398. (He got it from Wolfchase Wine & Spirits, I don't know if anyone else has it.) It's curious to think that, assuming two people per bottle, only 5000 people will get to try this wonderful wine. Makes me wonder what small run wines will never even cross my path.

There's a nose of chicory coffee, plum, and nutmeg. Medium tannins with dark berry flavors and a long, long finish. It's distinctly California without being a fruit bomb. Excellent balance, and I commend the nearly quarter volume given to Cabernet Franc and Petite Verdot, two wonderful grapes that so often are only present as a splash.

I don't do a lot of Asian cooking (and this meal barely qualifies), but I think I've been neglecting it in my culinary self-education. Plus it gives me the excuse to try a whole lot of new weird and wonderful ingredients.

Christmas Dinner Suggestions

Site Update: I've added keywords to all 567 posts. Scroll down on the left and you'll see a list of keywords based on region, grape, ingredient, etc. They're unobtrusive but will help you (and me) find things faster. Sometimes I'll pick up a wine and when I go to research it, I'll find that the first or second result in Google is my own site. There's over 2,000 wines listed on this blog, I can't remember every single one!

And now, some advice if your holiday cooking is stuck in a rut...

Interested in what wines to serve with Christmas dinner? Check out my Thanksgiving advice but add more reds from PIGS and throw in a bottle of Port for after dinner. But what to serve for that dinner?

A properly roast turkey and a good ham are incredible, but thanks to the pervasive sandwich culture of the US we eat lots of turkey and ham all year round. Here's some simple and tasty alternatives. None of these are exotic, but you'll need a probe thermometer and a roasting pan with a wire rack. Stop by some place like Bed Bath & Beyond and you can grab inexpensive versions for a total of $30. If money is tight, a disposable aluminum pan could be used, just set the pan on top of a cookie sheet and the meat on top of some carrots to let the fat drain away.

Do a little comparison shopping and you should be able to find these meats for $3-5 per lb., but aside from the duck you're not messing with a bunch of bones--the rest fall in the "solid chunk of edible meat" category. You may not have as many leftovers as a turkey would provide, but any of them will make for a memorable dinner and perhaps a new family tradition. And while none of these are difficult to cook, if you've never roasted something you might want to do a test run a week or two before the big day.

1. Duck
Duck is rich, savory, and infinitely more flavorful than chicken. It's all dark meat and the whole bird is surrounded by one of the world's most delicious substances, duck fat. Seriously, trim off the fat from the tail and some of the other excess flaps, render it out in a skillet and then fry up potatoes in the resulting grease. You'll never go back to Crisco.

I can usually find fresh ducks during the holidays, though frozen will work just as well. Roast at 350° until the thick part of the thigh registers 160° (duck is pretty forgiving, and you can go lower or higher depending on your comfort level).

2. Leg of Lamb
Boneless is the easiest way to go here for cooking and carving. In the photo, the lamb is on the right, pork loin on the left. Over a grill is the quickest and easiest way (plus lots of great smoke flavor), but an oven will work just as well. If you don't feel like making a French sauce but want something other than mint jelly, try this: take a jar of raspberry preserves and combine it with chopped fresh mint and walnuts or pecans. Stir it all together and serve beside the lamb as a kind of chutney.

While I prefer my rack of lamb medium rare, I think leg tastes best at medium/medium-well. However you roast it, cook until it's about 140° but don't let it dry out.

3. Pork Loin
Unlike the thin tenderloins, a pork loin is about four inches across and is a solid log of meat with a fat cap on one side. Many grocery store versions are pre-brined or marinated and can be roasted as is. Fruit is a natural pairing: I used orange slices for the one in the picture, but apples, prunes, grapes, or cherries will work also. For more liquid flavorings, cook it in a Dutch oven or other covered pot. Try an oven temp of 350°-400°. Don't overcook it or it will be dry and tough; take it out when it reaches an internal temperature of 150°.

After resting, cut thin slices and serve with the sauce of your choice, or even simple Dijon mustard.

4. Ribeye Roast
One of my favorite things in the world, and it definitely has the "wow" factor with a minimum of work. Some prefer the roasts with ribs on, but I find it easier to use the boneless roasts. Buy as much as you need to feed the guests that are coming, let it air dry in the fridge for about a week. Coat with some salt and pepper (or mustard and herbs, or BBQ sauce, or whatever flavor you want), and cook it in a low oven (around 200°) until it reaches an internal temperature of 125°. Let it rest and either carve off steaks or thin slices depending on what folks want. Check out the Alton Brown method if you'd like more details, just ignore the terra cotta pot--it works perfectly fine in a normal roasting pan.

5. Entire Goat
Just kidding! I love goat but it's a little hard to find everywhere. Give it a few years and I'll have a great cabrito recipe for everyone. Until then, good luck with the Christmas planning.

Chilean Carménère

Augustus D. Juilliard, founder of the famous New York conservatory
Paul Revere, silversmith and patriot during the American Revolution
John James Audubon, painter and ornithologist

What do these three people have in common? All were born in the Americas of French parents who sailed across the Atlantic for better opportunities, and these children did great things with their lives in the Western Hemisphere.

Pinot Noir never needed to leave France; the successful stay home. Yes, it has accomplished much in California and New Zealand, but Burgundy still holds the World Welterweight Championship for this grape. Semillon has been planted all over the globe yet has never achieved the sublime glory of Sauternes from Bordeaux.

But for various reasons including Phylloxera France abandoned, neglected, or ignored a handful of native grapes that took root and flourished elsewhere, particularly in South America. Tannat in Uruguay. Malbec in Argentina. And in Chile, a grape that was misidentified for years as Merlot, nearly forgotten, and recently developed to incredible new heights: Carménère.

It's interesting to note that the current president of Chile is Michelle Bachelet, the great-great granddaughter of a French wine merchant who emigrated to Chile in 1860, a few years after the arrival of Carménère.

With a glass raised south toward the honored country for Memphis in May 2009, here are six great Chilean Carménères that I tried with friends and family over a long dinner.


Note: All wines were tasted alone before dinner, with food during the various courses, and one last time after dinner.

The first wine opened during the appetizer course (green grapes and Dubliner cheese) was the 2007 Concha y Toro Casillero del Diablo Carménère. 100% Carménère from the Rapel Valley, $10. Vegetal, green tomato leaf aroma, with cherry and licorice flavors. This, like the rest of the Carmeneres, was dark and deep purple.

For the first course, I roasted a rack of lamb (marinated in a Chinese tea--more on that in a future post) and seared in a skillet. I paired it with Raichlen's chimichurri sauce, a traditional South American accompaniment to roast meat. Avocado and kiwi are important Chilean exports, so I threw them on the plate as well. A little dry salami rounded things out.

With the first course I served two wines. The 2006 Santa Carolina Reserva de Familia Carménère is 86% Carménère, 8% Cabernet Sauvignon, 6% Petit Verdot from the Rapel Valley, $15. Smooth and rich with aromas of green bell pepper and flavors of black cherry. The 2006 San Pedro 1865 Single Vineyard Carménère is 100% Carménère from the Maule Valley, $17. Grassy, with Haut-Medoc characteristics after breathing. Flavors included plum and black pepper. Surprising complexity over the course of the evening.

Next up was a course of French onion soup served in coffee mugs with baguette rounds toasted with shredded Gruyère. (Particularly in a dinner party setting, I love serving soup in cups. Smaller portions, easier distribution.) Here I served the 2006 Caliterra Tribute Carménère, 86% Carménère, 10% Merlot, 4% Merlot from the Colchagua Valley, $17. Bright raspberry aromas, with smooth coffee and chocolate flavors after breathing.

For the third course we took an intermission: with a nod to the seafood traditions of Chile, an ensalada de camarones, or shrimp salad. Tossed with a white wine/Dijon/honey vinaigrette, cherry tomatoes, red onions, and grapes over mesclun greens. Served with sparkling water to clear the palate and ready the taste buds for the next plating...

The fourth course was a (not pictured) ribeye roast cooked to a perfect medium rare and served with a trio of Hollandaise, leftover chimichurri sauce, and a horseradish/sour cream sauce. The side dish (much loved by my sister-in-law) was sherry vinegar and molasses glazed carrots. With the beef I poured the last two wines, starting with the 2005 Estampa Gold Carménère Assemblage Red Blend, 53% Carménère, 30% Cabernet Sauvignon, 14% Cabernet Franc, 3% Petit Verdot, from the Colchagua Valley, $22. This was my favorite of the evening, combining a gorgeous eucalyptus and earth aroma with tart cherry flavors. A hint of anise completed the whole experience. Also well received around the table was the great 2006 De Martino "Alto de Piedra" Single Vineyard Carménère, 100% Carménère from the Maipo Valley, $30. Violets and spice aromas, blackberry flavors and a firm tannic finish.

To finish things off, honored guests the Squirrels were kind enough to make shortbread stuffed with a persimmon filling and topped with Bourbon-flavored whipped cream. Though belts were being loosened throughout the dining room, this dessert was a big hit and a definite new flavor for many at the table. Personally I want to see this dish replace pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving.

Dessert was accompanied by a handful of Ports that were on hand, but this post is all about Chile and the wonderful wines produced on the West Coast of South America.

For more on Chilean wines (not just Carmenere), be sure to check out Wines of Chile for lots of great links and information.

Benito vs. the Thoracic Cavity: Beef Short Ribs & Heart

When I saw beef heart at the market, I got the idea for an odd dish. Most folks would just grimace and move on to the socially acceptable cuts of meat, but I grabbed un corazón de res and a few pounds of short ribs for dinner. Naturally the two go together in the chest, so why not cook them together?

Out of respect for the more squeamish readers I've omitted the pictures of the heart during the trimming phase, but it's a highly educational experience if you've never done it. It's a good four times the size of the human heart but works mostly the same way. And unlike the formaldehyde pickled samples you may have encountered in biology class or med school, this smells like steak. Tastes like it as well--once you trim off all the fat and the various arteries, you're left with something like filet mignon: a perfectly lean, fine grained meat that grills beautifully. I tried a few pieces in this fashion before chopping up the rest for the braised dish.

I started by roasting the short ribs in a hot oven for an hour to render out the fat and get some nice browning. Do this on a deep lipped aluminum sheet pan and it's a lot easier than doing it in a skillet (hat tip to Cook's Illustrated). I heated the roasting pan in the oven and then added a few tablespoons of the rendered beef fat and a standard mirepoix. Then I added the chunks of heart, the drained ribs, a couple of cans of tomato sauce, a can of chicken broth, and half a bottle of Bordeaux (more on that in a bit). I covered it and roasted it in a low oven for a good four or five hours until everything was nice and tender.

The whole thing was rich, velvety, savory, and sinfully beefy. This is a great method of preparing short ribs. The heart is actually milder and more tender than the short ribs, so it's sort of lost in the stew, but the cardiac muscle does provide an interesting textural contrast.

For the braising liquid I used half a bottle of the 2005 Mouton Cadet from Bordeaux. $13, 13% abv. 65% Merlot, 20% Cabernet Sauvignon and 15% Cabernet Franc. The label comes with a quote: "Le vin, il naît, puis il vit, mais point ne meurt, en l'homme il survit." Baron Philippe (1902-1988). This translates as "Wine is born, it lives, but it never dies; in man it survives." There's a dusty nose with elements of black cherry and hints of vanilla and lipstick (I promise I was using a clean glass) with a smooth mouthfeel and restrained berry flavors. 2005 was a banner year for Bordeaux and this is a very economical way to enjoy it.

I was going to open the other bottle to try something different, but I decided to save it for later. That's a 2004 Sella & Mosca Cannonau di Sardegna from the Italian island of Sardinia. $15, 12.5% abv. I've written about the Cannonau grape previously and was excited to see a bottle from a different producer. A few days afterward I opened it up to go with grilled pork chops and an apple-garlic-sherry vinegar topping. The wine has an intensely spicy, grape skin aroma to it and a full black cherry flavor. The spice continues on the tongue, black pepper and allspice. Medium tannins, clean finish, a little unusual but certainly strong enough to hold up against the grilled pork.

2005 Lachini La Bestia

For this week leading up to Halloween, I have a trio of spooky beverage reviews. First up is one whose name translates from the Italian as "The Beast", and the little script lower down reads Puro Sangue or "Pure Blood". Bonus points go to the classic werewolf woodcut on the label, though I can happily report that lycanthropy is not a side effect of drinking the 2005 Lachini La Bestia, a Cabernet Sauvignon from the Red Mountain AVA of Washington State. 14.9% abv, $45. And good luck finding it, because there were only 120 cases made. (This was a gift from my former boss, and thanks go out to the staff at Great Wines for picking it out.)

This is a really spectacular wine. Black currant, pepper, and cedar aromas, with a mild and smooth plum flavor and a touch of tannins on the start. One of those rich and complex wines you spend a lot of time sniffing and swirling over the course of a few hours. While I received it a few months ago, I just got around to trying it with a strip steak, asparagus in a sherry vinaigrette, and fresh pineapple. I'm anxious to try some of the other selections from Lachini, of which I've heard great things.

2000 Rosemount Hill of Gold Mudgee Cabernet Sauvignon

I'm always a sucker for solitary, seemingly forgotten bottles in wine shops. Such is the case with the 2000 Rosemount Hill of Gold Mudgee Cabernet Sauvignon, which didn't even show up on the computer when scanned. The clerk asked me, "Did this come from our store?" $17, 14% abv. New South Wales, Australia. Apparently 2000 was a rough year for this vineyard. While others shy away from the vintages that have asterisks in the charts ("hail damage, wombats got in and tore up the bloody vines"), I'm always excited to try the rare bottles that somehow make their way to my local merchants.

It's got a rich chocolate and leather aroma, with undertone flavors of raspberry, cigar, and black pepper. Definitely well aged, though I destroyed the cork trying to open it and had to pour it through a sieve.

I served it with a New York strip that had been coated with a rub made of raw coffee grounds, brown sugar, paprika, and assorted other seasonings. Seared and cooked to rare, sliced up thin and spread out on the plate. I paired it with some leftover watermelon and cole slaw--good summer BBQ fare here in the time between the seasons.

John's 30th Birthday

Good Lord, I'm getting old.

On August 29th, my younger brother John turned 30. For his birthday dinner, he asked me to do the cooking, and I was more than happy to oblige. While we fought a lot as kids, I have to give the boy credit for putting up with my high school experimental cooking phase. I'd check a cookbook out from the library and make as many things as I could from it during the three-week period. When the cookbook was Italian or Southwest or French, the food was usually edible. When I held on to the British cookbook with the tenacity of a barnacle, the food was awful.

Not only did John serve as a test subject for my homemade electroshock device, he was also the guinea pig for what were truly the worst years of my culinary self-education, and the fact that he has forgiven me enough to let me cook for important events such as his pre-wedding Bachelor Dinner is a high honor indeed.

For the first course, I had a little fun with the dish. I got a nice corvina filet from the grocery store. It was about as long as my arm and weighed in at 2.5 lbs. I sliced it up in roughly 4 oz. portions and hit them with Old Bay and sea salt to rest in the fridge.

The corvina was pan fried in olive oil and finished in the oven. Including myself I was feeding nine people, so you're just seeing the first four plates. I prepped a pile of fresh arugula with a light olive oil and tarragon vinegar dressing, a hemispherical mound of sundried-tomato couscous (prepared by my young niece!), and rested the corvina on the greens with a final touch of roasted yellow pepper sauce. My plate painting isn't great, but will get better with practice.

The wine served with the Corvina was a Kim Crawford New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, with great grassy/grapefruit flavors. John had it waiting in his fridge, and this style has been a long favorite of mine for pairing with seafood. Several people present were having couscous for the first time, and the presentation was a bit nouvelle cuisine, but at the end I had a stack of clean plates and folks hungry for the next course.

In my continuing evangelism for dry rosé, I brought along a bottle of Angove's Rosé from South Australia. $12, 12.5% abv. 70% Grenache and 30% Shiraz. I only had a sip or two--it was delicious but I don't have any notes on it. Fortunately the rest of the group got to really enjoy it.

I don't have any photos of the second course, because it's one that I've done several times. In anticipation of the dinner, John purchased a nine pound boneless ribeye roast and dry-aged it in his refrigerator for eight days. This preparation is damned near biblical. I hit it with some salt and pepper and slow roasted it, serving it with a light pasta salad and a mayonnaise-based horseradish sauce.

In his role as patriarch, Dad provided two excellent red wines for the beef course. One was the 2005 Coppola Merlot. It had elements of cinnamon, spice, and bacon fat. One of those great meaty, manly wines. I've found this to be a reliable performer on wine-by-the-glass menus around the country. The second was a new one for me, the 2004 Red Dirt Cabernet Sauvignon. I couldn't find any online information about this specific wine, but it had elements of cherry, chocolate, and leather. Both were great performers for the second course, and it was fun to switch back and forth between the two.

Mom and Dad provided dessert as well, and we all had a great time. The post-dinner conversation stretched well into the evening as I sat back, satisfied that everyone had a great time.

Happy birthday, little brother.

Housewarming for Grace

A group of friends and I recently gathered for a housewarming party for our dear Grace. It was also the date of the Roman holiday Vulcanalia. Look on the calendar, there's bound to be some reason to celebrate.

We started things out with a fun cocktail I tried in Cleveland. The Basil Grape Refresher is made with muddled basil and grapes. Add a touch of sugar or simple syrup, and then shake with ice and vodka. Top with ginger ale to taste. Simple and easy cocktail, and you can play around with it to modulate the sweetness.

The first course was steamed crab legs and topneck clams. When I cook crab legs, I normally take frozen snow crab legs and put them in a big steamer basket over a big pot of boiling water. I'll dust it all with Old Bay and squeeze a lemon over all of it. The trick is to take them out of the basket right when they're warmed through--too long and they get leathery, too short and you've got cold spots. While big and meaty, the clams were a little tough. I've had better luck with littlenecks when the craving strikes me.

For the second course, we enjoyed pan-seared slices of halloumi cheese and chunks of Santa Claus melon. The melon is white-fleshed with a flavor similar to honeydew, and it looks like a striped green football. The cheese was salty and savory, providing a nice counterpoint, and anyone who hasn't tried halloumi yet ought to swing by Fresh Market and give it a shot. For this course the Thomas Hyland/Penfolds Riesling was provided by Paul and was fruit-forward with flavors of apple and grapefruit.

The main course was beef tenderloin slices on a bed of mesclun greens with mushroom-sage risotto. I trimmed and trussed an entire tenderloin and rubbed it down with a blend of fennel seed, allspice, salt, and pepper. It was slow cooked at a steady 180°F until the interior reached medium rare. I then let it rest while I heated up the broiler, and then seared the outside of the roast in the oven. I took quarter inch slices and plated them, and then used a chipotle finishing sauce to top it all off. It was soft enough to cut with a fork and deeply delicious.

Paul provided this wine as well, a Penfolds Bin 128 Shiraz. It had rich notes of cinnamon, cedar, and blueberries. Well balanced and nicely complementary to the beef. It's the second time we've tried this Australian wine and it's a great one. Not to mention the great math joke in the name.

Somewhere along the way another bottle was needed, so I picked the 2007 La Vieille Ferme Rosé from the Côtes du Ventoux region of France. It's 50% Cinsault, 40% Grenache and 10% Syrah. Srawberry-kiwi Jolly Rancher flavors with a touch of lemony acidity. I've had the red and white versions of this wine and they're all solidly constructed wines at great prices. And you don't see giant talking chicken ads for them at the wine shop.

Late that evening we wrapped it all up with key lime pie. Congrats to Grace on the new digs and I can't wait to cook over there again.

Mixed Grill

This summer I haven't spent as much time grilling as I would have liked. Part of that has to do with being out of town a lot and part of it has to do with the blistering temperatures of July. But I fired up the Weber on a recent Sunday and life was good.

There's a bone-in ribeye, sliced pattypan squash, radicchio, and lamb tenderloins on skewers. Everything was marinated in its own separate mixture prior to grilling, with the tenderloins getting the buttermilk treatment. I threw it all on a platter and brought it inside for everyone to dig in as desired.

These were the first lamb tenderloins I'd fixed, and while definitely tender and boneless, they cook very quickly and lack the depth of flavor you get from a rack, a leg, or chops.

For the wine we popped open a bottle of the 2006 La Posta Cocina Blend from Mendoza in Argentina. $15, 13.5% abv. 60% Malbec, 20% Bonarda, and 20% Syrah. An incredibly smooth red wine made from a curious blend of grapes. It's refreshing to find a young wine that's this mild--just a trace of tannins. Aromas of spice and a touch of plum with light cherry cola flavors and a short finish.

I'm not much of a dessert person, but when the mood strikes this is the kind of thing I like. I halved some Jones Orchard peaches and roasted them in the oven with a little white wine in the baking dish. I topped the peaches with brown sugar and a pinch of sea salt. Then a dollop of ricotta and a chunk of fresh honeycomb from the Farmers Market. From behind the camera, I'm telling Wolfgang that there's nothing on the plate he needs to eat. This dessert was a nice combination of sweet and savory, and the honeycomb was an unexpected treat for my fellow diners.

2003 Feudo Monaci Salice Salentino

I love inexpensive Italian wines that age well. Such as the 2003 Feudo Monaci Salice Salentino. $11, 13.5% abv. 80% Negroamaro, 20% Malvasio Nera. This is from Puglia, the bootheel of the Italian peninsula, produced at a winery dating back to 1480. When this winery was founded, Columbus hadn't even begun seeking venture capital for his voyages. It's mild and mellow, not oxidized, with good black cherry aromas and flavors. Hint of coffee and cinnamon. I decanted it a good four hours before dinner, and it was velvety smooth and quite nice.

What's up with the root vegetables alongside? I made glazed turnips and carrots to go with the steaks. Chop up the peeled roots into roughly similar sizes. Parboil for five minutes. Toss with olive oil, maple syrup, and Old Bay seasoning. Cook until soft and glazed, with frequent stirring and turning.

Turnips are not something that I normally get excited about, but I do like the flavor. Here they work well texturally with the carrots, and the two flavors play off each other well. The touch of maple syrup boosts the inherent sweetness of the root vegetables, and the spices can be modified any number of ways to suit your household palate. Frankly I was thinking these needed some hot peppers and a bit of garam masala.

2006 Coppola Diamond Claret

Sally, a dear friend of the Benito household, was in town to visit The Roommate and help her recover from recent surgery. (You may have seen her recent comments on last week's cocktail extravaganza.) As thanks and because I look for any excuse to make a nice dinner, I decided to try out an idea I had around steak. I snagged a couple of two inch thick grass-fed ribeyes and cut them in half. Each segment was tied with kitchen twine and formed into rounds more common to filet mignon.

These were marinated and then slow cooked in the oven at 200°F until medium rare, then seared in a skillet for surface texture and caramelization. The steaks were then topped with bleu cheese and homemade red onion marmalade. This onion preparation is a seriously incredible accompaniment to any dish and I strongly suggest you make a batch immediately. Throw it on a grilled cheese sandwich and you're going to have drool running down your chin.

On the side we've got Farmers Market brandywine tomatoes, green beans, and store-bought broccolini. For the wine, Paul was kind enough to bring over a bottle of the 2006 Coppola Diamond Claret from Sonoma. $20, 13.8% abv. 79% Cabernet Sauvignon, 9% Petite Verdot, 7% Merlot, 3% Malbec, 2% Cabernet Franc. I've been a longtime fan of this wine and have written about it several times. This vintage doesn't disappoint, and provides great dark berry flavors and aromas, a touch of spice and tobacco, a little leather, and of course a Bordeaux blend is always a great pairing for steak.

2005 Faust Cabernet Sauvignon

I'm excited to present another wine from Agustin Huneeus. At some point in your wine drinking career you stop following individual grapes or regions and begin chasing individual winemakers and importers. Tonight's wine is the 2005 Faust Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa, $50, 14.8% abv. 79% Cabernet Sauvignon, 18% Merlot, 3% Cabernet Franc. Nose of cedar, black cherry, with a touch of tobacco leaf. Rich black cherry flavors with a bit of dark chocolate and mild tannins follow. It's a great wine to savor and the second half was just as nice the next day.

Served with roasted T-bones topped with horseradish-chive compound butter and braised leeks. Needless to say, it was a Guys' Night and the menu reflected that. I couldn't exactly honor this wine with a cube of tofu and an artfully arranged sprig of basil.

The name of the wine comes from Goethe's play, in which a man makes a deal with the devil. Sadly my German language education stopped short of literature, where I'm sure I would have had the pleasure of reading this work in die Muttersprache. We stopped with history, meaning that I know a lot about the Holy Roman Empire but none of the English names for any of it.

2006 Don Miguel Gascón Malbec

Realizing that it had been some time since I'd had a South American red, I reached for the 2006 Don Miguel Gascón Malbec from the Mendoza region of Argentina. $10, 14.2% abv. Good basic Malbec here with aromas of dark plum and leather. Berry flavors on the palate without being jammy. Medium tannins and a short finish. Tried it with a bone-in ribeye and some d'Avignon radishes from the Memphis Farmers Market. These radishes were mild and tender after a little steaming. Definitely worth checking out if you have been turned off by the standard globular radishes.

Two Degrees of Beef

One of the best dishes over at River Oaks is their 3° of Kobe Beef: braised short ribs, roasted tenderloin, and smoked flank steak, along with some really incredible side dishes for each. If you decide to go there for dinner, I'd strongly recommend this along with skipping lunch in preparation.

When The Girlfriend requested an iron-rich meal, I initially considered a variation on the three degrees, something involving good steak, brisket, and oxtails. While I may try this in the future, I quickly realized that it would be a lot of cow for two people. I scaled it down a bit and while perusing the meat aisle found a small London Broil and two 6 oz. tenderloin steaks. Perfect.

I braised the London Broil in a savory broth for four hours at 200°, and the tenderloin was seared in a cast iron skillet and then finished in the oven. While that was going on, I made a reduction sauce with a bit of the juices from the London Broil and three blood oranges; this went on top of the tenderloin. I steamed white asparagus until tender and wrapped the stalks with prosciutto. Not pictured: steamed artichokes consumed scale-by-scale with homemade mayo. Gratuitously pictured: new elongated white rectangular plates.

This meal begged for a Claret and the 2004 Moon Mountain didn't disappoint. From Sonoma County, this wine is comprised of 77% Cabernet Sauvignon, 17% Merlot, 3% Cabernet Franc, and 3% Petite Verdot. A steal at $17. It's got rich herbal and spice aromas, and those continue on the palate along with a bright cherry note that lasts for a while. Exceptionally well balanced and an ideal match for a good beef-based dinner.

Late Night Delight

An afternoon nap is a rare pleasure. Say it's Saturday and you've been running errands all day and decide to lie down and read for a bit. It's two in the afternoon and you nod off. Then nobody calls, the dog doesn't bug you, and all distractions disappear against the white noise backdrop of winter rain. Suddenly it's six o'clock and half the day is gone. This presents the odd situation of being fully awake at midnight and hungry as a bear. I decided to pan-cook a steak, have a bit of wine, and watch a movie.

Here's the 2004 Dow Douro Reserva Vale do Bomfim from the Upper Douro Valley of Portugal. $12. 40% Touriga Franca, 40% Tinta Roriz (Tempranillo), and 20% Tinta Barroca. Light spice, raisin, and anise aroma, cherry flavors with firm tannins. I think anyone who likes Port should try regular Portuguese white and red wines from time to time to remind them what the grapes taste like before the fortification.

For a fun side dish, I steamed a bag of baby zucchini, though the package used the British/French name courgettes, which I think is a lovely word. On top of that, this meal sounds like a band from the 50s: T-Bone and the Courgettes. Yes, ol' TB&C, famous for their novelty jukebox hits "Dr. Grillopolis" and "Sham-a-lam-a-squash-tastic". Largely forgotten in the grand scheme of things, their recordings on the Green Gourd label remain highly prized among doo-wop enthusiasts in eastern Iowa. Formed by a short-order cook and his three waitresses when the diner burned down, the story of the magical musical quartet tragically ended when their tour bus was buried under a mountain of prize watermelons at the 1959 Indiana State Fair.

Homecoming Feast

On the Saturday following my return from Denver, I ran by the grocery store, grabbed a few odds and ends and settled in for a pleasant dinner with a couple of young ladies. Everyone had different cravings and dietary requirements, so I just kept the dishes simple, served them family style, and at the end of the night I was satiated. In the great words of Jerry Clower, nobody went home with a holler belly.

Why not start off with some seafood? A couple of soft-shell crabs, tempura-battered and crisped up under the broiler. Then a pair of tilapia fillets, grilled and topped with yellow tomatoes and oregano from the garden, all atop a bed of arugula. I've recently seen these pre-fried soft-shell crabs show up in the seafood counter of some local grocery stores, and while not perfect they're tasty enough at $3 a piece. If you're on good terms with your fishmonger (or the minimum wage equivalent at the local Stop-n-Shop), try to get those that don't have major portions of the shell regrowing.

For the iron-rich portion of the meal, I roasted a 2 lb. porterhouse until rare, and then I applied a knob of homemade sage butter to the top while it rested. (Not pictured: some steamed broccoli to go along with the meat.) Using a sharp knife, I carved the roast in three ounce portions but kept everything in place. The bone improves the taste of the meat, and afterwards you can save it for stock.

The wine served was the 2005 Ridge Sonoma County Three Valleys. 74% Zinfandel, 13% Petite Sirah, 8% Carignane, 3% Grenache, 2% Mataro. Deep cherry flavors, medium tannins, and a smooth finish. An elegant, complex wine that will definitely improve with age. Granted, a white would have worked better with the seafood side, but I had some San Pellegrino sparkling water on the table and that was a nice counterpoint.