Feb 17th, 2011 by David Flaherty
Serge Hochar (pic courtesy of Wine Naturally)
At 9 am, I entered the restaurant to prepare for the trade tasting. By 10 am, the stage was set.
17 guests, 10 wines each. Without nary a cup of coffee in me, I banged out 170 tasting-size pours in about 20 minutes, maneuvering the decanters and the bottles through the maze of glassware à la an episode of Mission Impossible.
While possibly a new personal record, I was just happy to be a part of something much bigger. Today at Hearth, we were honored to host one of the most revered winemakers in the biz, Serge Hochar, of Chateau Musar.
That's some serious energy on one table
Hailing from Lebanon, his name alone invokes gasps of reverence in even the stodgiest wine lovers. Why? Because he is passion, he is energy, he is a conduit for what nature is capable of when put in the right hands. And because Chateau Musar, much like a grapevine fighting for life in difficult soil, has gone to often incredible lengths to make their wine. War on your doorstep? Pick the grapes. Fight on.
The winery lies a mere 15 miles from Beirut—it’s grapes coming from the Bekaa Valley—and has seen much more than its fair share of conflict. Lebanon is a tumultuous place, and experienced a brutal civil war that lasted from 1975-1992. Throughout that time, and often with its employees in extreme danger, they continued to produce their wines, only missing the 1976 and the 1984 vintages.
The Musar reds are made from Cabernet, Cinsault, Carignan, Grenache and Mourvèdre. The whites are made from Obaideh (a relative of Chardonnay) and Merwah (a relative of Sémillon).
There is an aliveness to his wines that make you stop and take note. Each vintage is so different, so unique and with such personality. Tasting through the wines is like visiting a school for gifted children, each one requiring you to stop and truly assess the brilliant individual you’re dealing with.
And listening to Serge (who has managed the estate since 1959) is a revelation. Quickly bored with questions of weather variations or winemaking techniques, he’ll instead go off on tangents pondering life itself and how we harness our own energy, as well as that of our Earth and the vines in the ground. He is a true inspiration.
Here’s what was poured:
Feb 14th, 2011 by David Flaherty
Ilkka Sirén is one hilarious dude. Although he lives across the globe in Finland, after watching his videos and experiencing his sense of humor, I now consider him kin.
Perhaps my mother spent some time in the Norwegian countries before meeting my father? But I guess that would make Ilkka more than 40 years old…hmm…okay, you can rest easy, Dad. And so the mystery of Ilkka and I’s connection continues.
Regardless, this wine-loving, fun-loving, world-traveling guy cranks out some great videos. In this one below, he falls madly and deeply in love with Robert Parker…err…Tigger…err…Robert Parker; not sure which.
*Note: if your kids are devout fans of Robert Parker, please put them to bed before watching…oh, and slap them around a little bit. They need to get a better idol.
http://vimeo.com/19598887
Feb 8th, 2011 by David Flaherty
Packers Cocktail (Citrus Vodka, Midori, White Cranberry Juice, Lemon and Star Fruit)
This past weekend, we trekked north to my friend’s place in the fair state of Connecticut for Super Bowl XLV.
Being the wondrous party-host she is, Jaime assembled the raw ingredients to make some football-praising, booze-delivering, drinks of delight. Being the maniacal palate-chemist I am, I worked to put it all together.
This is what our partnership spawned.
Steelers Cocktail (Blanco Tequila, Triple Sec, Orange Juice, Lime and Blackberries)
Feb 2nd, 2011 by David Flaherty
Design by Steven Solomon (stevensolo.com)
Forget wine. Forget beer. They’re mere newbies in the world of fermented beverages. Mead is the patriarch, the original, the granddaddy that launched the human fascination with alcohol. But, strangely enough, it’s fallen out of fashion. How could this be? This was the drink of Aristotle and the Ancient Greeks; the drink of the brave Danish warriors in Beowulf. But now? Where have you gone, mead? It’s time to reclaim your glorious throne.
That's some sweet, sweet bee ass
Mead is a true symbiosis between insect, nature and man. The bees are king. And for lovers of terroir, their honey is as reflective of their home as any Pinot Noir grape.
Just like with grapes or cheese or oysters, honey tastes different the world over. Be it from clover plants, wildflowers or orange blossoms, bees transport the various flower nectars in their stomach (where it is combined with digestive enzymes), later storing it in a honey “cell” or “comb,” allowing it to partially dehydrate. The types of flowers and plants in an environment—such as those found in a high-altitude meadow in the Alps—and their inherent flavors and characteristics come through in the taste of the honey.
Stairway to Honey
The bees are the conduit, the driving force. They are the backing beats of John Bonham to the stage-shredding antics of Jimmy Page. While there are over 20,000 species of bees, only about seven of them are true honey bees (genus Apis). These are the gatherers of the gold that humans have chased around the world for nearly 10,000 years, prizing their valuable booty like pirates do their loot. Having both antifungal and antibacterial properties, honey won’t rot or ferment in normal conditions. It’s a complex mixture, primarily consisting of glucose and fructose. And it’s a perfect human food. A satchel of honey will provide nourishment and energy to a well-worn tribe of hunters chasing Wooly Mammoths across the tundra. And after discovering that…they soon discovered mead. And then the warriors were really happy.
The earliest archeological evidence of the production of mead dates back to 7,000 BC in Northern China. Pottery fragments were found with a mixture of mead, rice and other fruits along with organic compounds of fermentation. They were making booze. The mead was flowing. And honey was tops. Across the world, centuries later, Scottish warriors gathered in massive mead halls where the feasting, boasting and drinking were legendary.
It’s time to channel your inner warrior and philosopher. It’s time to rediscover the beverage that predates them all…
Met, Steinwalder Hausbrennerei Schraml, 2009, Bavaria
From a third-generation distiller. The Bavarian honey sees a very long fermentation, followed by aging in 30-year old French Limousin Oak casks (approximately 3 months) which were previously used to mature plum brandy. Notes of honey-bathed plums, bright lemon citrus and a slight tannin profile from the oak. (15.5% abv)
Viking Blod, Dansk Mjød, Denmark
Produced by a one-man operation, Viking Blod is based on a traditional recipe from 1700. 100% natural product flavored with Hibiscus flowers and hops. Big, bold flavor with an upfront sweetness and spicy herbs on the nose; akin to a hearty Viking pie. (19% abv)
Single Variety Lime Tree Blossom, Die Hochland Imker, Austria
Found in the rolling countryside of the Muehlviertel in Upper Austria—between the valley of the Danube and the forests of Bohemia—the Hochland beekeepers are committed to maintaining the character of their region by adhering to organic principles. A bit more dryness on the palate than the previous-listed meads, with a clean, floral, lime flavor that pervades the silky mouth feel. (13.5% abv)
Get your honey on.
Warning: this is what happens when friends let friends wear viking costumes.
Jan 26th, 2011 by David Flaherty
The Grand Poobah always brings tasty treats for his subjects. (From left to right: Fred Navarette, Carolyn Edgecomb, Craige Moore, Jonathan Moxey, Lauren Moxey)
You better hydrate. You best have a gang of food in your belly. Your mind must be focused and your palate on-point. Cause you’re going to get slaughtered…with a smile on your face.
Hold on to your hats, craft beer geeks, because the hurricane-force winds have finally died down, and BrewYork #7 has gone down in the record books. For those of you who are avid readers of Grapes & Grains (have I told you lately that I love you?), you may have seen the final bottle list from BrewYork #5; or even watched the frighteningly beautiful video footage of BrewYork #4.
But for all the new visitors, all you really need to know is that once a month, at a once-undisclosed location (but now at the cozy confines of New Jersey Brewing Company–thanks, Matt for the upgrade), we get it on. It’s a right pissing contest of who can bring the rarer bottle, the tastier homebrew, the better brisket. And the winner in all this? Everyone.
This weekend was no exception. Holy shit, the bottle list was insane. Akin to looking into the sun during an eclipse. Careful. Look too hard and you’ll be blinded by the vortex of craft beer power.
Here’s a look–I advise numerous breaks to rest your eyes, take some breaths, say a few Rosarys and recenter:
(some of my favorites are in bold)
This ain't even the half of it...
...and this? Mere child's play.
Embrace the craft!
Jan 22nd, 2011 by David Flaherty
Before setting sail for battle, it is best to drink rum. And a shitload of it.
In fact, why don’t you light it on fire first to add a bit of toasty courage to your gullet (video below)? So goes the wisdom of the Ron Cremat.
This past weekend, my wife and I were once again deep in the bowels of the Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas for a mega photo shoot. She was hired by them to document the culinary and mixology madness going on at 13 of their restaurants and 3 bars (*shameless plug: she is pretty awesome at her craft; check her work out at Kat Bryant Photography). I was there to assist, fluff micro-greens and keep the trains running on time.
While at our first shoot at Jaleo—Chef José Andrés outpost of Spanish wizardry—we met their talented Beverage Director, Lucas Paya. Formerly of the ridiculously famous El Bulli (a 1-year wait for reservations) it’s clear that the guy has Catalan passion running through his veins. Working with Chef Ferran Adrià and Chef José Andrés has no doubt sent his imagination into overdrive.
Pulling on both the beverage classics, as well as newfangled tools of mixology geekdom, Lucas has created a complex and beautiful beverage program. While shooting pics of some of his cocktails, his eyes lit up with a spark and he dashed off like a kid running off to grab his favorite toy. He returned to tell us about the Ron Cremat.
Taught to the Spanish by Cuban sailors during the Spanish-American War in 1898, it is a drink meant to muster up courage. He poured an entire bottle of Ron Cubaney Solera Reserva 8-year into a clay pot and began his tinkering. Before we knew it, the thing was on fire. A warm, blue glow pervaded the fluid as we watched him scooping flames with a ladle. It was mesmerizing.
It’s a pretty simple concoction, actually, designed to cook off some of the alcohol while adding some solid flavor. A bit of sugar is added, along with a cinnamon stick, lemon peel and coffee beans. After burning off a bit of the alcohol (approximately 10 minutes), coffee is poured into the mix. Of course, choosing a brand of coffee that will best put hair on your chest and make you snarl the nostrils is important.
Check out the video below and raise your glass to the Catalans who fought bravely while juiced up on fine Cuban rum:
httpvhd://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LjAhBXmQzP4
Jan 8th, 2011 by David Flaherty
The mega-winery minions launch their 2011 marketing campaigns
Pinot Gris, Prophet’s Rock, 2009, Central Otago
(13.2% abv)
The orcs are moving in on you. You can hear their gnarled grunts approaching the perimeter of your camp like a fast-moving plague. The ringwraiths were spotted yesterday on the horizon, their ghostlike, ethereal figures barely visible through the fog.
You’re being hunted. And the enemy is mass-produced, characterless wines that threaten to swallow us up in their suffocating embrace. Welcome to Central Otago, New Zealand, the land where Lord of the Rings was shot and where the battle for the underdog wine region lives.
New Zealand is a late-comer to the wine world. With wine grapes first being planted in 1883 by James Busby—a pioneer in the Australian wine industry—it wasn’t until the early 1970’s that quality varieties like Chardonnay and Cabernet Sauvignon were brought to the islands. Being a newcomer has it’s advantages; with no connection to the ways of the past, New Zealand quickly embraced the latest technology and viticulture techniques available to them and is now a major player on the world market.
Lying in a tiny pocket on the South Island is the region of Central Otago. The world’s southernmost wine region, it has the driest and most continental climate in New Zealand. The vineyards lie in the Southern Alps where there are extreme differences in temperature; warm days and cold nights allow the flavors to fully concentrate. It is an ideal spot for Pinot Noir, Riesling and Pinot Gris to grow. It’s also an ideal spot for wasting orcs with a swing of your broadsword…or so I’d imagine; my ork-wasting experience is minimal but my heart is strong.
Prophet’s Rock winery sources grapes from two of their estate vineyards located in the Bendigo and Pisa sub-regions of Central Otago—this is where the magic happens, where the sacred ring is forged. When I tried their Pinot Gris 2009 recently, I was floored. Near water-clear in color, it gave absolutely no hint of the depth of flavor to come, akin to the princess who wears the clothes of a peasant and goes unsuspecting in the crowd. A hint of honeysuckle and lemon meringue on the nose, I invited her into my house to warm up from the cold, still unaware of what I was getting into…
Simple? Unassuming? Just wait till she removes her cloak...
Upon first taste, my mouth was met with a concentrated burst of flavor that I was defenseless to. Who are you, maiden? Comparable to that of an Alsatian Pinot Gris, it is fat and rich with huge acidity. The flavors of lemons and minerals seemed to be cascading over river rocks in a high-mountain waterfall. I had chosen my mistress wisely. The tip of my tongue was left vibrating like a guitar string. Wow. She is an unsuspecting vixen, and is welcome in my house any day.
The battle against the mega-winery grows more heightened every day. Their marketing arms stretch wide and far, attempting to drown you in their bland, merely passable grape juice. But it is the fighters like Prophet’s Rock and the region of Central Otago that give hope that the resistance remains pure of heart.
Now where the hell has Gandalf ran off to? Has anyone seen the princess? Uh oh. I suspect Gandalf is unfurling his charms in some dark pub somewhere on the South Island…
Rippon Winery in Central Otago (pic courtesy of WineAnorak.com)
Dec 30th, 2010 by David Flaherty
My chandelier has more crystals than yours!
As I sit here looking down on the bright lights of the Las Vegas Strip from my 40th floor perch in the sky, December seems like a blur.
As anyone who works in the food & beverage industry can attest, the month of December is no short of an all-out waterboarding session. The hours, the stress, the sensation of drowning under a thin veil of muslin…it’s enough to make one long for a vacation in Guantanamo.
The Cosmopolitan threatens to jump into the Bellagio fountain...but is talked down by the monorail just in the nick of time
But as 2011 inches it’s way over the desert horizon, I’ve finally come up for air. We’re out here in Vegas for the second time in three weeks for the opening of The Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas. My wife and her crew are handling the PR for the thirteen (!) restaurants on the premises and I’m in the fortunate position of being the lucky sap that gets to come along for the ride.
In addition to sinking my fork into some fantastic food—the Lobster Tail with Miso Butter at Blue Ribbon, the Braised Octopus at Milos and the Beef Tendon & Kumamoto Oyster Tacos at China Poblano come to mind—I’ve had my eye on the bar scene rising up throughout the hotel. And this is one serious, kick-ass, balls-to-the-wall, cocktails-as-scripture type of operation.
Mariena Mercer (pic by Allison Duck for the Las Vegas Sun)
Helmed by three resident mixologists and featuring over 100 newly created cocktails throughout the property, this is a Mecca for spirits geeks. Mariena Mercer, Andrew Pollard and Kristen Schaefer run three diversely different, yet incredibly focused, bars: Vesper, Bond and The Chandelier (all former nicknames of mine).
While I sampled awesome drinks at all three (even cheekily asking the barkeep at Vesper to risk life and limb by making me a Ramos Gin Fizz), I feel you should know about the madness that is The Chandelier. Why, you ask? The cocktails? Yep. The snazzily smooth bartenders? Yep. But the real reason? The frickin chandelier itself. This thing is Vegas incarnate. Human excess in its purest, most adulterated, demented form.
Kim's take on the current mixology trends: "I like my drinks like I like my men: tall, dark and stiff"
Consisting of over 2 million crystals, the chandelier would make Liberace cry for weeks. And Kim Kardashian’s boobs have nothing on this thing. Spanning three stories, with the ability to seat over 500 guests INSIDE it’s bejeweled tentacles, The Chandelier composes three separate bars, all with a different vibe and cocktail list. Sipping on a cocktail under this thing is like being under the sea in the protective bubble of Atlantis. Do not, I repeat, do not approach this thing on LSD. You’ll fry out your eyes faster than looking into the sun during an eclipse.
I was fortunate to meet Mariena Mercer on the third floor of this thing where we got to taste two of her latest creations. And yes, when I say “creations”, I mean it. There is a frickin’ mixology kitchen devoted to the bar, stocked with a sous vide vacuum, a Pacojet to make sorbets, a Spherification center (which creates liquid-filled beads) and an index of molecular gastronomy ingredients that would make Wylie Dufresne stick his hand in liquid nitrogen out of jealousy.
The two cocktails we tried were ridiculously tasty. I found myself marveling at what was in my glass, while simultaneously being entranced by the dancing light like a child in front of Santa’s workshop. It was a night of terrifying proportions. Man has pushed the envelope with the sheer excess of this bar, but thankfully, Mariena’s cocktails have matched it’s scope.
Here’s what we drank:
The Libertine
The Bed Thyme
And now, fair readers, it’s time to go inside the chandelier!
Watch the video of me sipping it up in the shimmering wonderland:
httpvhd://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZUtOqrowPIw
Dec 13th, 2010 by David Flaherty
Dec 11th, 2010 by David Flaherty
Dec 6th, 2010 by David Flaherty
Dec 5th, 2010 by David Flaherty
A tower of cocktail power (photo by shaderlab)
Their movements were balletic. Like robotic apothecaries, they created elixirs in a dizzying progression of steps.
They spun on their heels with perfect calibration, knowing exactly the degree of rotation needed to land on their spirit of choice, and spin back while the bottle was upended and measured into a jigger angled over the mixing glass.
The area behind the bar—their stage for the night—was tiny. A four-person trapeze act performing in your living room.
Would you like that shaken or stirred?
Jedi Knights, each sensing the others’ movements, and the bottles and delicate glasses wizzing by each other in a blur, barely passing by millimeters and avoiding a spectacular explosion of glassware (which happened later in the evening, but more on that later). Welcome to Angel’s Share, a speakeasy located in the East Village of Manhattan.
I’ve been there many times over the last few years, yet each time I wander a few steps past the entrance, confused how to gain access to its second floor perch overlooking the world below through a massive picture window.
If you’re looking for a romantic date, then sitting in front of this window, watching the snow fall with the warm sensation of booze caressing your soul, may just be the most memorable NY nightlife experience you can have.
A trip up the stairs to the Japanese restaurant, a quick turn to the left and a short walk to a non-descript door leads you to the unmarked entrance. The room is quiet, and only those who have a seat may remain—this is not the place to cram the bar four-deep and shout at a Jets game blaring on four TV’s simultaneously.
I sat at the bar, a child in front of the lion’s cage at the zoo, my eyes straining to keep up with the action. The back wall— lit from behind like a massive, adult-sized version of Lite-Brite—is stacked full of artisan spirits, liqueurs and small glass bottles seemingly stolen from a high-class perfumery in Paris. The place is pure eye candy for any spirits geek; you could spend hours going through the collection.
The Del Sasser: smoky bacony, bourbon goodness
As I was finishing my Del Sasser (Bacon-infused Bourbon, Plum Liqueur, Pommegranate, Lime Juice, Balsamic Honey and Angustora Bitters), we heard a loud pop of exploding glass. I half-expected to see the girl at the end of the bar—three seats to my right—brandishing a jagged shard of glass to her boyfriend’s neck.
But sadly, no; they both stared at a lone, glass base sitting in the center of the bar, surrounded by a field of broken shards. They were dumbfounded. My first thought was that the glass must have been hot, and that the coolness of the drink had caused it to explode. But this was not the case; the guy had just taken the last sip of the drink, turned to look at his girl, and POW! Total destruction. A jealous glass, perhaps? “Keep your eyes on me, Jacko, not the broad!”
The crew descended in rehearsed, laser-like precision to clean up the refuse. While we sat astounded, they showed no emotion. They must have experience dealing with volatile glassware. Monopolizing pint glasses, cuvetous high-balls, possessive rocks glasses and the like. Libatious theatre at it’s best.
For more info on other NYC speakeasies, click HERE (and don’t even think they have websites, Johnny, they’re speakeasies, for God’s sake!)
The lions in their tiny cage (pic courtesy of Guest of a Guest)
Nov 29th, 2010 by David Flaherty
Nov 28th, 2010 by David Flaherty
Contra, Bonny Doon Vineyard, 2009, Contra Costa County
(13.5% abv)
At the mouth of Big Thompson Canyon in Northern Colorado, lies a small store that sells Black Bing Cherries. Juices, ciders, jams, you name it.
The store itself was unmissable; a large red roof over a white building from which hung hundreds of red juice bottles like some sort of bizarre Christmas tree ornaments.
The entrance to Big Thompson Canyon
I’ve always associated the canyon with this strange store—I actually found it today through a Google search—that goes by the name of Colorado Cherry Company.
When I tasted Contra, the latest release from Randall Grahm and company over at Bonny Doon Vineyard, I couldn’t get the image of this store out of my mind. Something about it’s flavor profile brought me back to my childhood.
In more ways than one, Randall Grahm is to Santa Cruz, as the Colorado Cherry Company is to the Big Thompson Canyon. They channel the dirt, the air, the rivers and the soul of their environment through their fruit. A taste of his wines are meant to be evocative of the place from which they came.
After a rather round-about journey of experimentation, irreverence and soul-searching (check out my earlier piece, Randall Grahm: Prankster and Philosopher, written after an infamous pedicure session together), Randall is on a mission to become a true soothsayer of the soil.
Randall Grahm (pic by Alex Krause)
Perhaps its because he swung so far off this path in the middle of his career, that he is now such a fervant torch-bearer of the terroir cause. With the onset of critical and commercial success, he saw his enterprise shift into a mega-operation that churned out juice with little connection to terroir. He has since sold off a large amount of his holdings to refocus on what inspired him in the early days of his winemaking career.
His winemaking notes and personal letter that accompanied the wine (full disclosure: I was sent a press sample) read like a cross between a personal journal entry and a playful blueprint of its journey from grape to bottle. He states his mission clearly: “We’ve been gradually paring down the Bonny Doon product line with the aim of producing only those products that have a real raison (or raisin) d’être, i.e. are utterly distinctive and in some ways tangibly enrich the world.”
The grapes are hand-harvested from vineyard sites (79% Gonsalves, 16% Ca’ del Solo, 3% Bella Grace and 2% Bien Nacido) in the Central Coast Appellation and fermented in individual lots with indigenous yeast. It is a blend of 55% Carignane, 15% Grenache, 15% Mourvedre, 7% Petite Syrah, 5% Zinfandel and 3% Syrah.
Medium-red in color with hints of purple, Contra exhibits dirty raspberries and grappa-soaked cherries on the nose backed by the slightest hint of vanilla. Medium-bodied with a Black Bing Cherry pie-filling note that’s grounded in an earthy backbone. The structure is solid with an acidity and spice that left my mouth salivating and my lips smacking in search of the next flavor. It is both rustic and refined.
It’s strange how memories get stuck in the recesses of our mind, only to be unlocked and revisited years later. Perhaps this is the universe calling to me…maybe it’s time I took a trip up the Big Thompson Canyon again. But this time, maybe I’ll borrow the Bonny Doon dirigible; I’m sure the view of the river from up there is fantastic.
The Doon Dirigible: fueled by Black Bing Cherry cider.
