Passionfruit and tarragon with Jurancon

There were so many outstanding pairings in the meal I had at the Michelin-starred Casamia in Bristol last week I don’t know quite where to start.

Not with Frerejean Frères premier cru champagne with a dish of turbot with truffle and a champagne sabayon although that was perfect (I wrote about a champagne pairing a couple of weeks ago and I wouldn't want you to think I'm a one-trick pony!)

Nor a lovely little warm vegetable and sheeps' curd salad with a delicate Portuguese field blend* from the Alentejo called Equinocio, impressive though that was.

It’s got to be a wonderfully summery dessert of passionfruit and tarragon - a combination that was recommended by chef Peter Sanchez’ herb supplier Jekka McVicar with a 2015 Uroulat Jurançon dessert wine from south-west France.

I’m not sure how to begin to describe the dessert which was like little explosions of passionfruit and tarragon popping in your mouth - the slightly aniseedy tarragon perfectly counterbalancing the exotic sweetness of the fruit. Apparently it was passion fruit gel, seeds and sorbet made using a syringe and liquid nitrogen I later learnt from Peter. With tarragon meringue and tarragon infused custard. (Honestly, mindblowing.)

The wine, which was young enough to have retained all its freshness, had a lovely peachy flavour that echoed but could have been cancelled out by the passionfruit but was thrown into relief by the tarragon.

Not obviously a dish you can replicate at home (which is why we go to restaurants) but I'm wondering if you could make a tarragon ice cream and serve it will grilled peaches to similar effect ....

* a field blend is a wine made from vines that are all mixed up in the same vineyard rather than from varieties that are grown separately. It gives them a particular vivacity.

I ate at Casamia as a guest of the restaurant.

Lemon roast chicken with spring vegetables and Brouilly

I’m always undecided as to whether I prefer red wine or white with roast chicken but of course it depends on the accompaniments and the time of year.

Last night we had it stuffed with lemon and sprinkled with a fantastic fines herbes mix of tarragon, chervil and chives I bought from the market in Nice a year or so ago. It’s a bit faded admittedly but I can’t bear to throw it away, the tarragon is so strong and the herbs so perfectly balanced.

I served it with asparagus, green beans and a mixture of celery and leeks braised in the lemony juices so it was as much a veggie dish really as a chickeny one.

The wine was a bottle of 2007 Brouilly La Croix des Rameaux from Jean-Claude Lapalu that had found its way into the back of the wine cupboard. Very funky on opening but delicious once decanted - still bright and fruity enough to keep the feel of the meal light and springlike but not remotely bubblegummy as you’d expect from a natural wine.

The dish would have gone equally well with a crisp white if I’d been inclined. I had a sip of not totally wonderful Falanghina with it which actually improved the taste of the wine. Chablis would have been good too.

Roast chicken with tarragon and asparagus and oaked white Bordeaux

When it’s as warm and sunny as it has been for the last few days I don’t really fancy a traditional English Sunday lunch or the sort of wines that go with it so yesterday we had one with a difference. A roast chicken, served warm or tiède, as the French call it with roast cauliflower and seared asparagus.

The chicken was flavoured with tarragon butter worked under the skin, as suggested by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall in the Guardian this weekend and there was yet more tarragon, lemon and garlic inside the bird. No gravy, just the pan juices.

The obvious pairing would have been a good white burgundy or comparable cool climate Chardonnay but I thought it might work with a 2007 bottle of S de Suduiraut Bordeaux Blanc I had in the rack. Which it admirably did though whether that was due to the tarragon or the accompanying asparagus, which nicely picked up on the Sauvignon in the blend I’m not sure. Probably a bit of both.

The wine, which was sent to me to try, is an attractive one, made by a producer, Château Suduiraut, which is better known for its Sauternes. It hasn’t got quite the lushness you find in some oaked white Bordeaux but it is still quite young. I was also battling a cold. But in general I feel wines like this are distinctly underrated.