2012 Collazzi Libertà & 2009 Cune Rioja Reserva

Here's a glimpse behind the curtain of the wine writing world. A lot of people think that a sommelier shows up at your door, knocks politely, and then proceeds to poor a perfectly curated selection of wines that are all related to each other. Three vintages of a specific Chateau, for instance.

In reality, it is common to receive completely unrelated wines, but these are often linked by importer or distributor, or sometimes by grape or style. Thus the pairing shown here of two hearty reds in the $20 range.

2012 Collazzi Libertà
Toscana IGT
55% Merlot, 30% Syrah, 15% Sangiovese
$24, 14% abv.

Syrah and Sangiovese really dominate with the Merlot playing a surprisingly background role. Big tannins, spice, black pepper, and a long finish. Don't save this one for pizza night--make a marinara sauce from scratch and boil up a big pot of spaghetti and meatballs. This wine deserves a home cooked meal.

2009 Cune Rioja Reserva
Rioja, Spain
$20, 13.5% abv.
85% Tempranillo, 5% Mazuelo, 5% Graciano, 5% Garnacha Tinta

Light chocolate and leather profile, smooth body with mild tannins. Delightful balance and an elegant finish. Rioja remains an outstanding bargain across many producers and you'll see what wonders a mere five years of aging is able to accomplish with these grapes. Serve with a thick, medium-rare roasted pork chop that is heavily marbled and you'll never forget the meal.

Note: These wines were provided as samples for review.

Chianti Trio

I've been making a lot of Italian-American dishes recently, born out of a joy of making tomato sauces, slow cooking, and recipes that freeze well. Things like baked ziti, spaghetti and meatballs, and even making my own pizza dough. I'd say that my biggest joy comes from making Sunday gravy with lots of different meats in the sauce, which can then be repurposed into multiple applications over the course of the following week.

When it comes time to serve wine with these dishes, I'm usually just grabbing whatever leftover red is available, but recently I had the chance to try three bargain Chiantis that are perfectly matched to the old school red and white checker table cloth cuisine.

2011 Bolla Chianti
Chianti DOCG
90% Sangiovese, 10% Canaiolo Nero
$8, 13% abv.

A real winner on the QPR. Currant and ash on the nose, with tart raspberry flavors and firm tannins. Long tannic finish. Delicious pizza wine.

2010 Cecchi Chianti Classico
Castellina, Chianti DOCG
90% Sangiovese, 10% Other Red Grapes
$12, 13.5% abv.

Blackberry aromas, with a little coffee and spice underneath. Firm tannins and a long finish, and a wine that benefits from decanting or breathing.

2009 Banfi Chianti Classico Riserva
Chianti DOCG
"Almost exclusively Sangiovese"
$16, 13% abv.

Interesting wine with a major focus on raspberries, followed by a little brambly character. Good tartness and a nice, long finish. Like the others, firm tannins, but a wine that was a perfect match for my baked ziti.

Note: These wines were provided as samples for review.

2012 Banfi Centine Rosé

I wrote about the red blend Banfi Centine in 2006 and 2007, and since then I've frequently suggested the wine as an inexpensive but tasty Italian red that would work well with a wide range of Italian-American fare. While I'm always fond of the rich diversity of Italian food with so many unique ingredients and separate traditions, it's worth celebrating the fact that Italian cuisine branched off and formed a lot of new and delicious traditions here in the United States through the immigrant experience. Below, I'll provide the details for my chili mac that is pretty darned tasty as the weather is starting to get cold. A few days ago, I had to scrape a tiny layer of ice off my windshield for the first time this season, but today we were eating outside and eventually had to abandon the table because it was getting too warm, and the bees were out pollinating the trees that are still producing flowers in November. The joys of life in a hot climate.

Since it's still nice and warm, it's still time to enjoy a good rosé... hell, it's always time to drink pink. This is the rosato entry in the Centine line, and I was excited to open it up.

2012 Banfi Centine Rosé
Toscana IGT
Proprietary Blend of Sangiovese, Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon
$11, 12.5% abv.

It's very bright rosé with a noticeable strawberry scent with a hint of lemon. It has a tart body with a crisp finish. The pale salmon color looks beautiful in the glass, and the wine has a remarkably long aftertaste of really ripe strawberries. I think it pair well with grilled chicken and asparagus drizzled in reduced balsamic vinegar, but I had other plans.

On to the chili mac... Purists say that chili con carne is only meat based, and the only starches allowable are small amounts of masa to thicken it up. In the real world, people around the world stretch flavorful meat sauces with various carbohydrates. It's not a sign of cheapness, and if done properly, it can taste great. I've had chili with rice (not my favorite preparation), over corn chips (good in a Frito Pie), over spaghetti in Cincinnati, and occasionally with a slice of bread. I tend to add red kidney beans whenever possible, and I recently made a big batch of chili with ground beef and kidney beans for freezing in convenient portions. It was great on its own, but a few weeks later I was able to defrost it and prepare a batch of chili mac.

I used organic rotini and didn't quite cook it al dente. I stopped early so that it was still slightly chewy and drained it thoroughly. The idea was to allow it to soak up the juices from the chili rather than letting excess water dilute the existing flavors. In order to not make too much pasta, I poured the dish half-full of dry pasta, dumped that in the water, and then cooked it in a pot. I combined the cooked pasta, some cottage cheese, about a litre of chile, and covered the baking dish with foil. I cooked it slow for about an hour, then added a layer of shredded cheese to brown on top.

With meat, pasta, and beans, it's incredibly filling, and even a small bowl is enough for an entire dinner. I was quite happy with it, and am still enjoying the leftovers days later. Obviously I'm adding a lot of hot sauce to my bowls, but I prepared the chili (and the casserole) mild to allow others to adjust their bowls as desired. Now, if only it would get a little colder.

Note: This wine was provided as a sample for review.

Morellino di Scansano

Morellino di Scansano is a newer wine region in coastal Tuscany, established as a DOC in 1978 and upgraded to DOCG in 2007. Like Chianti and Brunello, the backbone of the style is Sangiovese. Morellino seems to serve as a balance between tradition and the Super Tuscans: the wines must be at least 85% Sangiovese but the rest can come from other grapes, including French ones like Merlot. The baseline Morellino doesn't spend much time on oak and is released young, while the Riserva has to spend at least one year in the barrel and is not released until two years after harvest.

The color of the wine is surprising. Morellino means "little brown one", either a reference to a color of a horse in the region or the Morello cherry. It's also the name for the local clone of Sangiovese. There's a beautiful garnet hue that you don't often see in younger wines. Even though the 2008 has been resting for five years, it's a color that I've mostly seen in bottles that are at least ten years old.

Armed with crusty bread, nutty pecorino cheese, and a bit of prosciutto, I opened the following three wines on a rainy afternoon...

2010 Tenuta Pietramora di Colle Fagiano Petramora
Morellino di Scansano
85% Sangiovese, 15% Merlot
$15, 14% abv.

Bright red cherry profile, tart and snappy but with mild tannins and a quick finish. Quite refreshing and a great palate-opener. A great apéritif wine for a dinner party, where it should go well with lots of appetizers yet not overwhelm the tongue if you're going to be serving white wines with the first course.

2009 Fattoria le Pupille Poggio Valente Riserva
Morellino di Scansano
97% Sangiovese, 3% Merlot
$20, 14.5% abv.

This one has that rare aroma of pomegranate with a touch of vegetal, earthy darkness underneath. It has lower acidity than the first but with a softer mouthfeel. Medium tannins provide a bit more body and weight, meaning that it would stand up well to a nice roast duck.

2008 Mantellassi Le Sentinelle Riserva
Morellino di Scansano
85% Sangiovese, 15% Alicante (Grenache)
$23, 14% abv.

Nice earth tones on the nose, giving way to the scent of dark plum. The body and tannins are very similar to the Poggio Valente, though with another year of aging it's a bit softer and shows better balance. I found myself craving venison, and since deer season is coming up, I may get a chance to cook another sirloin roast depending on how successful my friends are this winter. And given the opportunity, I think I'll be searching the local shelves for another Morellino.

Note: These wines were provided as samples.

2007 Luce della Vite Lucente

Luce della Vite is a joint project founded by Marchesi dè Frescobaldi and the Mondavi Family. The Frescobaldis run the operation now, but the Mondavis remain financial partners in the operation.

As is often so interesting with Old World wines, the Frescobaldi family has been a political and business force for some 800 years in the Florence area. They got involved in the wine industry in 1308, and in later years were trading wine for paintings with Michelangelo and supplying Henry VIII with good Italian vino. The style of wine was perhaps a bit different then, but it's always incredible to have such historical connections swirling around in your glass.

My own family history gets fuzzy around the time of the American Revolution, but by that point the Frescobaldis were already sitting on over 400 years of dusty written records and ledgers.

2007 Luce della Vite Lucente
Montalcino, Tuscany
50% Merlot, 35% Sangiovese, 15% Cabernet Sauvignon
$20, 14.5% abv.

Lucente means "shining", although this is a deep and dark wine. Blackberry and stewed fruit aroma. Bold, medium tannins, flavors of black tea, black cherry, and plum. When it comes to a Super Tuscan, I tend to go for Americanized comfort food. Some big and beefy lasagna, or baked ziti, or in this case, pepperoni pizza.


Note: These wines were received as samples.

Assorted Leftover Bottles

Here's a few bottles that got tasted and reviewed, but not posted in 2009. They sat around in the bullpen for a while, and I decided I might as well let them out for the 9th inning.

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This wine comes from the time when Bonny Doon's Ca' del Solo line was still whimsical and lighthearted. With a move to biodynamics and a trimming of the wild mix of grapes and products, Ca' del Solo wines now bear very unusual labels. This older label reminds me of the children's book Madeline, though this little girl is obviously not an orphan.

There's not a lot of information out there about this wine--a few reviews of various vintages going back to the 90s, but Bonny Doon is a company that has grown, shrunk, exploded with products, focused on a handful of wines, reinvented itself, and has built up certain mythologies about its products. Like how people mistake the Ca' del Solo line for Italian wines, or think the Big House wines (no longer part of Bonny Doon) were actually made by prisoners. Press releases and company info on old products seem to disappear completely, like the Fraise strawberry liqueur I tried in 1997, leaving us with second- and third-hand accounts and reviews.

Our mystery white is the 2005 Ca' del Solo Malvasia Bianca from the Central Coast of California. $12, 13% abv. Lots of lime on the nose, like lemon curd but with more of a lime tang--think Key Lime Pie. Plenty of fruit flavor here, and a quick finish. Tropical fruits like papaya and pineapple. I had it with a little cold pasta salad, and it definitely needs something salty like olives to balance out the touch of sweetness. I would have liked to have tried this in its youth; I have nothing to directly compare it with, but I think there might have been some more sparkle a few years ago.

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Different European countries have different rules and regulations when it comes to what kind of grapes can be grown in various regions. France is pretty strict; I often think that Italy and Spain are more accommodating because they have thousands of indigenous grapes that might only be a few hundred distinct vines with ten names each. (It's possible for a wine grape to have over 150 different names.) In Italy the IGT system has permitted well-crafted wines to be produced using plots planted with both indigenous Italian vines and imported French vines. Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot are popular blending grapes, even as far south as Sicily.

One relatively mainstream example is the 2005 Bonizio Cecchi from Maremma, Italy (the western corner of Tuscany). $10, 12.5% abv, 90% Sangiovese, 10% "other" red grapes. This little Tuscan IGT has a little blackberry and clove on the nose, with mild tannins and cherry flavors. It performs well for the price and was a decent accompaniment to a pepperoni pizza.

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This is a very inexpensive Pinot Noir, decent enough for the price. After Sideways a lot of people rushed out and bought the cheapest Pinot on the shelf. Many of those folks were sorely disappointed, but it doesn't mean that bargain Pinot doesn't exist. It's just hard to find. I've often considered taping a note to my wallet that says, "Don't buy a Pinot Noir under $20. They've never made you happy."

But for the same reason that I've always dated [REDACTED], I decided to try another bargain California Pinot that showed up at the local shop. This is the 2006 Jargon Pinot Noir that retails for a paltry $7, 13.5% abv. Surprisingly, it is pretty soft and smooth, with decent black cherry notes, but lacking real complexity. Just a touch of acidity, tannins are pretty much nonexistent. It's the kind of wine I'd suggest for a diner if my local diners actually served wine.

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A lot of folks like to beat up on Red Truck, and while it pales in comparison to fine Burgundy or Bordeaux I've always thought it was a fun table wine. Better in previous years, I think, but it's a great "gateway wine" for men. If a guy has never tasted wine before, flowery labels and French language aren't going to convince him. But if there's half a hog on the smoker, and you pull out a slightly chilled wine that has an old pickup truck on the label... You might have just made a convert. In five years he'll be criticizing your Barolo vintages and explaining why he prefers Spiegelau glasses over Riedel.

The 2006 Red Truck is $12, 13.5% abv, and shows notes of plum, brambles, with notes that are vegetal. Just a touch of herbs. Big tannins and acidity but they subside with an hour of breathing. The grapes are a proprietary blend of Syrah, Petite Syrah, Cabernet Franc, Grenache, and Mourvèdre. While this may sound like a confused mess, it's probably close to the spirit of pre-Prohibition California "red wine" that used to flow out across the country years and years ago. Fortunately, you'll get a chance to enjoy it in bottle or cask form instead of having it shipped in tankers via train.

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I'm an unabashed fan of the metric system and curse the archaic, illogical standard system we use here. However, for historical and literary purposes I do find obscure forms of measurement fascinating. Fathoms, leagues, hogsheads... Italian miles versus German miles versus Arabic miles... Gold gets measured in troy ounces, and horses get measured in "hands" from the ground to the withers, units now standardized at 4 inches. 14-16 hands is pretty average for a horse. (Similar human body-derived units are feet, paces, cubits, and the Selleck, used to measure mustache thickness.)

Another random wine selection based on the name is the 2007 14 Hands Merlot, $12, 13.5% abv. It's comprised of 85% Merlot, 14% Syrah, and 1% "other", sourced from a variety of locations in Washington state. Pacific Northwest wines are growing in popularity and availability, and it's always interesting to talk to people that just got back from a trip to Washington or Oregon wine country. They talk about it in this dreamy way like they've been to France.

Jammy, with an initial cherry and blueberry nose that can be overwhelming. After some breathing, it mellows out and you're able to get notes of chocolate, tobacco, and tomato vines. Definitely fruity, with medium tannins and a long chocolate-covered-cherry finish.

Benito vs. the Ostrich

Last year I had ostrich for the first time (a burger in Albuquerque), but I've never cooked it before tonight. I picked up a couple of frozen ostrich filets from Wild Oats and marinated them in some Worcestershire sauce and red wine. Following the advice on multiple websites, I pan grilled the filets until medium rare, roughly 140°F. Given the fact that the cut and the preparation was a lot like what I'd do with flank steak or skirt steak, I decided to top it with a mix of sautéed orange bell pepper, shallots, and shiitake mushrooms, and served with some warmed pitas. Sides included steamed green beans and some roasted baby blue potatoes. The potatoes were incredible, bite size and rich in flavor. I roasted them in butter and Corky's seasoning until tender inside and crispy outside.

I really liked the ostrich, and felt that I got to better appreciate the flavor in this format rather than ground. It's somewhere between beef brisket and really flavorful turkey thigh. With that in mind, I felt that a red was a better match than a white and selected the 2001 Muraccio Parrina, $18, 13.5% abv. 80% Sangiovese, 10% Cabernet Sauvignon, and 10% Merlot. It comes from the town of Albinia in Tuscany in the province of Grosseto. When the first pour revealed a garnet hue I was concerned that it was oxidized, but with breathing and swirling it revealed a lovely wine that had definitely gotten its beauty sleep. Touch of smoke, hint of eucalyptus. Very mild with light cherry flavors and just a touch of tannins remaining. A real pleasure and a steal at the price.

Benito vs. The Farmers Market: Polenta

"Pasta has become so universally accepted as the national dish of Italy that it is difficult to believe that not much farther into the past than two generations ago, pasta was as foreign to certain Italian regions as it might have been to, say, Lapland. For a quarter of a millennium, in the Vento and Friuli, as well as in much of Lombardy, it was polenta, more than any other food, that sustained life. Preparing it was a ritual, eating it was like receiving a sacrament." —Marcella Hazan, Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, 1973.

I love polenta, but I don't think I've written about it here before. I've had it both in Italy and back home negli Stati Uniti, but I was delighted to see it offered at the Downtown Farmers Market on Saturday. While at the stand for Delta Grind (purveyors of many wonderful ground corn products), I bumped into Papa Squirrel. He introduced me to the proprietors and I went home with a container of masa as well. Tamales soon to come—watch this space!

When it came time to cook I ignored dear Signora Hazan and followed the interesting recipe on the back of the Delta Grind container. It's unique but quite tasty. To find out the secret, go to the Farmers Market and buy some for yourself. I topped the polenta with cremini mushrooms and Swiss chard, and braised some chicken thighs in beer, broth, and onions.

For the wine, I stuck to Italy and poured a glass of the 2006 Campo al Mare Vermentino di Toscana, around $14. It's got a light citrus fruit aroma with an almost fizzy crispness. It's an uncomplicated wine but is a great Italian white and should pair with a wide range of dishes. Overall the dinner was simple but a success. One of the diners had never had polenta before but ended up asking for seconds. While that's often one of the best compliments a cook can get, I'm really looking up to forming the leftovers into discs and pan-frying them tomorrow.

Daube provençal

For years I thought daube meant dove, and every time I saw a reference to it in a book I figured they were referencing different preparations for doves. Why did I think this? Well, Taube is the German word for dove, and the name for one of the most elegant aircraft built during WWI. Granted, French is a Romance language and German is not, but I figured it probably transferred via Alsace. Taube-->Daube-->Dove, right?

This is a case where too much information is a bad thing.

No, daube is just the French word for stew, and the dish that James Beard's mother made for him every time he got upset as a child. In this case, I've made daube provençal from Anthony Bourdain's Les Halles Cookbook. It's a simple lamb stew with some vegetables and herbs, but the end result is wonderful. I skipped the turned potatoes and instead went with one fingerling potato per bowl. The lamb shoulder, which had a lot of bones, made the broth doubly tasty. And the aroma that slipped throughout the entire house was an added treat.

The wine was recommended to me by the friendly owner of Great Wines and a distributor I know and trust who happened to be in the shop that day. (Thanks Gary and Mike!) If I haven't said it enough here, don't be afraid to go into your local wine shop and ask for suggestions. Developing these relationships will broaden your palate over the long term, and you'll get to enjoy some hidden gems that aren't well known or highly publicized. Even if you don't know that much about wine, talk about what you like and what food you'll be fixing, and a good wine shop owner or employee should be able to help you out.

Even though I know both of them and have tried a lot of wines that were lying around, I asked for their suggestion for something new and interesting. They picked out the 2004 Sangiò di Luiano, an Italian IGT (or Super Tuscan) wine made from 60% Merlot and 40% Sangiovese, which runs for $20. Bright cherry flavors, hints of red apple with a pleasant spice note on the finish. Light beginning, firm tannins later. Considering the mixed French-Italian nature of the wine, I feel a provençal recipe was a perfect match.

2005 San Quirico Vernaccia di San Gimignano

It had been a long day at work, and I wanted some Italian with a matching wine. So I picked up the 2005 San Quirico Vernaccia di San Gimignano. I first tasted this wine in March of last year, though I mistakenly said it was made of Trebbiano grapes (bad info on the tasting sheet?). No, the grape variety is the same as the name of the wine, Vernaccia: the legendary favorite beverage of Michelangelo. Lemony acidity, slightly bubbly crispness, a short finish and overall great balance. Probably more suited for summer than winter, but it was paired here with a summery dinner. San Gimignano is a little medieval town in Tuscany that's famous for it's towers (seen on the label). Not as well-known as Florence or Siena, but in the area and beautiful in its own right.

Side note: If you're visiting Tuscany, many of the cities fall into either Medieval or Renaissance categories. This has a lot to do with squabbles between the 13th and 17th centuries, and who was on top at certain key moments in history. In general, if the town looks ancient and somewhat gothic and your feet hurt after a day walking around on steep cobblestones, it's probably a medieval town (like Siena). If the buildings have a softer shape and the walking is easier, it's probably a Renaissance town (like Florence). If you're a guy traveling with a woman who is fascinated by shoes and purses, your feet are going to hurt wherever you go. I would suggest that you set her free to shop while you hang out in a bar, restaurant, post office, youth hostel, or, as a last resort, plead asylum at a U.S. Consulate.

This is a variation on a dish I had in a cafeteria in Milan. Here in the States, a cafeteria generally means a place where you grab pre-cooked and -plated dishes off a counter and a sullen cashier rings you up. Over there, we found this little place in the Galleria called Ciao. (The Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II is essentially a shopping mall that's been around since the 1870s. It's next to the Duomo in the middle of town.) At Ciao, you'd take your tray down the line and order whatever you wanted. They had a dozen different pastas, a dozen sauces, and various raw meats, and your plate would be cooked to order right before your eyes. I had something involving farfalle (bowtie pasta), pesto, and baby octopus, all flash cooked in a hot skillet. I still sometimes wake up at night craving it.

For this version, I used shrimp instead of octopus, due to the scarcity of the latter in these parts and the fact that I was feeding The Girlfriend and The Roommate, who are not fond of eating unusual animals. In the past, I would have grilled the shrimp separately, but lately I've learned to appreciate the natural juices of shellfish that can contribute to a sauce. So I tossed them in hot olive oil, then added thawed frozen spinach, a half cup of pesto, and a splash of white wine. All elements were stirred and tossed until just done, then the freshly boiled farfalle were mixed in right before serving. Served with a little Italian loaf of bread and a dash of cheese.

Not as good without the octopus, but damned tasty nonetheless.

2003 Banfi Centine

When you really want a food that you haven't had in a long time, it's a powerful force. Here in my home region of the Southern United States, there's a way to phrase such a longing. For instance, I've recently had a strong desire for lasagne. So in the appropriate company I might say, "I done had a cravin' flung on me for some lasagne." (To all of my readers: please note that I don't normally talk like this. Only while inebriated and around a BBQ grill, smoker, or on a camping trip. My everyday speaking voice is neutral Midwestern.)

Of course, around here we mostly spell it lasagna, but four semesters of Italian have a stronger impact on my orthography. Lasange is quite popular here in the Mid-South, and it was certainly a staple item on my childhood dinner table. It's certainly the easiest Italian casserole out there; one of my favorite Italian dishes is crespelle, but it's hard to build enough enthusiasm to make crepes after getting home from work. My Mom always used the same recipe: lots of onion, ground beef, ricotta, mozzarella, and plenty of tomato sauce.

I was in the mood for comfort food. We had a recent ice storm here in Memphis, and I've been really wanting some hearty casserole dishes. So it was chicken thighs in savory sauce and green beans over the weekend, and I had to have some lasagne tonight. So I used a similar method to my Mom's but some alternate ingredients. I used ground turkey instead of beef; it's lighter yet still provides the texture and protein. I added in a ton of leaf spinach to the two eggs and 15 oz. of ricotta cheese. And I used two different tomato sauces: a mushroom one and a garden one. I think the added veggies help.

Though I've made lasagne many times in my life, this was my first attempt at making one without boiling the noodles first. You just layer the noodles as you normally would, but cover the dish with tight aluminum foil before baking. The result: fantastic. The noodles were perfectly al dente, and it was a hell of a lot easier to build the thing using dry noodles. And I've got leftovers for the next few days.

Oh, and the wine?

So last Friday during my wine-buying excursion I picked up a bottle of the 2003 Catello Banfi Centine. It's a red "Super Tuscan" made of 60% Sangiovese, 20% Cabernet Sauvignon, and 20% Merlot. While cooler this drinks like a Merlot, but once it comes up to temperature the Sangiovese really shines through. There's not a lot on the nose, but a slurping sip reveals some black cherry flavors and some medium tannins. It's hard to describe, but it smells like an Italian red and tastes like an Italian red, but doesn't have the heavy tannic bite and strong aftertaste of similar young Italian reds.

At this point, I've just enjoyed my second helping of lasagne and am in heaven. The wine is matching perfectly. I'm now ready to crawl into bed and call in sick for the next two days so that I can curl up next to my dogs and sleep all day.