Anchovies and Grenache Gris

Anchovies are always reputed to be difficult with food but I found a great match for them over the past few days down in Collioure and Banyuls. Which of course there should be as they’re a speciality of the area.

It was Grenache Gris, a grape that used to be used to make strong sweet wines like Banyuls in the Roussillon but which is nowadays used to make some particularly interesting strong, savoury almost oily, whites. (Oily I admit, doesn’t sound great in relation to wine but it’s a texture rather than a taste thing. Think lush and viscous.)

The anchovies are served two ways - fresh as boquerones which are cured in vinegar and salted - sometimes in the same dish but the Grenache-based Roussillon whites seem to cope with both. They were also delicious with sundried tomato paste and tapenade.

There’s a good post on how to prepare your own boquerones here.

Anchoïade and manzanilla

I’m beginning to wonder if there’s anything manzanilla doesn’t pair with - or fino, come to that. Of course, there is but both sherries do seem to be brilliant at dealing with the tricky customers of the culinary world, especially pungent salty ones like anchovies and capers.

I had this particular combination at the recently opened Rockfish Grill in Bristol - anchoïade is a creamy anchovy pure from the south of France which is generally served with raw vegetables or crudités. The usual wine match would be a Provençal white or rosé but I really loved this combination with chilled tangy sherry.

It makes me think that manzanilla would be a feasible - though unconventional - partner for that Piedmontese speciality bagna cauda. It also pairs well with olive-based spreads such as green and black tapenade (especially the green version) and creamy, smoky purées such as brandade (salt cod) and baba ganoush which is made from grilled or roast aubergines.

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Roast venison with tapenade and a modern Spanish red

Frankly almost any full-bodied red will work with a roast meat like venison but I’m particularly excited about the new breed of modern Spanish reds that are appearing on the shelves.

This was a dish I had last week at one of our neighbourhood restaurants in Bristol, Greens Dining Room which has a typically modern British/Mediterranean influenced, seasonal menu. (The head chef has worked for such mod Brit restaurants such as Chez Bruce and The Brackenbury in London)

The venison, which was quite gamey, was served Italian-style with grilled polenta and cavolo nero but the most important ingredient from the point of view of the wine match was a roughly chopped tapenade topping.

Black olives, as I’ve mentioned before, have an almost magic effect on red wines making even the fiercest tannins tame and velvety. They also seem to boost a medium-weight red like the incredibly good value 2006 Viña Urbezo from Bodegas Solar de Urbezo in Carinefia we drank - a blend of Garnacha, Tempranillo and Syrah.

It’s one of a number of vibrant young reds of real quality that Spain is currently producing at a knock down price from wine regions such as Cariñena, Bierzo, Campo de Borja and Toro. Look out for them!

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Pastis and olives

Yesterday we arrived in Arles for the Recontres Arles, a massive annual photographic exhibition that takes over the entire town. Our youngest son Flyn is showing some of his work at a restaurant called Le Corazon so we’re here for the next 10 days or so.

To get into the mood we picked up a bottle of my favourite pastis Henri Bardouin on the ferry on the way over. (Or favourite until now. I note the wine shop opposite has 3 brands I haven’t tried which all look interesting.)

Pastis, for those of you who aren’t familiar with it is an anise-flavoured liqueur that is particularly popular in Provence. It’s one of those acquired tastes like olives and espresso coffee that it generally takes time to learn to love. It’s pretty strong (the Henri Bardouin is 45%) so you drink it well diluted - about 1 part pastis to 5-6 parts cool water. Ice is frowned upon by purists as it stops the pastis taking on its characteristically milky, cloudy colour when diluted.

I like the Henri Bardouin one because it apparently contains over 40 different herbs and spices which makes it more complex and less licoricey than cheaper commercial brands. Its slight bitterness also makes it a great match with olives or olive-based pastes like tapenade spread on crunchy little toasts or bruschettini.

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