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The day I cooked with Léoville las Cases

The day I cooked with Léoville las Cases

“Isn’t it time you wrote a piece on cooking with wine again?” mused my editor over lunch. “How about cooking with a bottle of first growth Bordeaux?” I gulped. “Er, I don’t think most of our readers would do that.” “Well, we should try it out for them.” he said firmly.

OK, there’s a case. Imagine the scene - there’s two of you. Great bottle. Great steak. Why open another lesser bottle to make the steak sauce if the bottle you’ve got is going to make the best sauce you’ve ever tasted? Besides, as I had rashly admitted to Guy, I had successfully used a glass of top quality white burgundy in a upmarket version of chicken with white wine sauce and mushrooms which had so impressed my guests they’d talked about it for weeks afterwards. So, yes, why not?

I mentioned the experiment to some chef pals who were all uniformly sniffy about it but then chefs are notoriously mean. They also - as chefs do - all disagreed with how the experiment should be conducted. Whether the wine should be added at the beginning or at the end after stock. Reduced once or three times. Reduced to a third of its volume or practically nothing.

When I spoke to Guy a couple of days later, he was still up for it but conceded that we should settle for the slightly more modest Léoville Las Cases, a second growth, true, but still hardly the kind of wine you’d use for cooking unless you were Bill Gates. I decided to make a simple entrecote marchand du vin, a dish I’d normally run up with a day-old half bottle of whatever I’d been drinking the night before - something like a Cotes du Rhone Villages or a Faugeres. It was more likely that the character of the wine would show through if it was cooked relatively quickly than if it was incorporated in a long, slow braise where all the flavours melded together - although you would always add a dash of fresh wine at the end.

I cooked the steak and set it aside to rest. I sweated off a couple of shallots. poured in the equivalent of a small glass of wine and reduced it by roughly two thirds. I whisked in a bit of soft butter, seasoned it with salt and pepper and poured the steak juices back into the pan. And tasted it . . .

It was not only not the best sauce I’ve ever made but one of the worst. The reduction process completely de-natured the wine, accentuating the tannins and completely stripping the fruit.

Chefs would of course have gaily poured in a ladleful of demi-glace. I tried again using beef stock to deglaze the pan. It was better - a richer, fuller, more balanced sauce but the tannins were still obtrusive and the character of the wine was masked by the stock.

Would it be any better with a cheaper bordeaux, I wondered? I picked up an inexpensive bottle of 2005 Calvet, a vintage I thought should be able to stand up to robust treatment. I repeated the experiment, without the stock this time. It was painfully thin and acidic.

Well maybe a Chilean merlot then? Actually that was rather better. The resulting sauce had a nice degree of roundness and sweetness - but it wouldn’t be a great match for a top wine.

What if I reduced the wine very slowly rather than bubbling it fiercely? Back to the Léoville Las Cases. This time I left it barely simmering for half an hour in the pan. Some improvement but the end result was still a touch bitter. The wine was just too much of a heavyweight.

The inescapable conclusion, and it’s always a bit of a letdown to have to confirm conventional wisdom, was that this was in every way the wrong kind of wine. Not just because it was extravagant (I wouldn’t have minded that if the result had been spectacular) but that it was totally unsuited to being heated and reduced. Too young, too tannic, too concentrated. Not that it would have been any better a few years down the line. The kind of wine you need for a red wine sauce is robust, generous and fruity - unoaked or, if oaked, unobtrusively oaked. The southern French grapes - especially Grenache and Syrah - are much better suited to the task.

Conclusion number two. If you are going to use better than basic cooking wine it’s better not to reduce it too ferociously and to give it a bit longer to mellow than you would if you were using a cheaper wine. A proportion of stock certainly creates a better balance in the sauce although you lose some of the strong winey flavour. You can also adopt an old chef’s trick and add a spoonful of redcurrant jelly or a squirt of tomato ketchup to boost the sweetness. Or a little bit of cornflour to thicken it rather than over-reduce it.

Third conclusion: Good white wines work better than top red ones. Yes, there’s a danger of accentuating their acidity but that’s easier to deal with than rampant tannins. Gewurztraminer responds particularly well to being used in cooking.

Finally, even if the Léoville las Cases saucehad been transcendent I doubt it would have done the wine any favours. I tried both it and the Calvet with the sauce I’d made with the Las Cases and it really came into its own despite the inadequacies of the sauce. You don’t want your sauce to outshine your wine (take note chefs who deliver plates to the table with ridiculously sticky reductions.)

If you're interested in learning more about cooking with wine two Michelin-starred chef Raymond Blanc runs occasional courses on Food and Wine, including cooking with wine, at his restaurant Le Manoir aux Quat' Saisons.

Chefs on cooking with wine:

“I’d challenge anyoneto know which variety of wine you’ve used after you’ve cooked a dish for 3 hours”
Alex Mackay, Guild of Food Writers Cookery Writer of the Year

“Like any other ingredient the quality of the wine you use is important but that doesn’t mean it has to be expensive. We get great results with rioja and some of the cheaper Rhone reds”
David Everitt-Mathias, Le Champignon Sauvage, Cheltenham

“ You should match the style of wine to the dish. If you’re cooking a recipe from the suth west of France, for example, you need something powerful, red and dark. But you wouldn’t use that for a coq au vin.” Henry Harris, Racine.

“To spend more than £4 on a bottle of wine for cooking is stupid - a complete waste of money” Raymond Blanc - Le Manoir aux Quat’ Saisons.

This article first appeared in the February 2007 issue of Decanter.

Possibly the best truffle dinner ever

Possibly the best truffle dinner ever

Did I want to go on a truffle trip to Spain at the end of January? Balmy Barbados seemed like a better option but since that wasn’t on the cards and the enquiry came from an old friend I said yes. The 2 day visit - the annual Viñas del Vero ‘Days of Wine and Truffles’ in Somontano would include an outdoor picnic in the foothills of the Pyrenees (eek), a truffle hunt and - the clincher - a multi-course truffle menu by one of the region’s most talented chefs followed by a gastronomic brunch. “Bring the Gaviscon”. my friend sagely advised.

I’ll be writing about the truffle hunting in due course so let’s concentrate on the dinner at Bodega Blecua which was the best truffle experience I’ve ever had. It kicked off in style with a selection of truffle-flavoured canaps including truffle flavoured macarons, parcels of truffle threads in lambs skein (sic), tartlets of pigs trotters and truffles (awesome) and best of all, truffle flavoured truffles of the satiny consistency of the best chocolate truffles. These were served with Tio Pepe (also owned by Viñas del Vero’s owner Gonzalez Byass) and V de V’s fragrant Gewürztraminer which I’m not sure I didn’t marginally prefer, to my surprise. (The 2009 is currently on offer at £6.49 at Majestic)

The first proper course was a glassful of truffles served with a hot broth which transformed it into truffle consommé followed by ‘Royal de Trufa with egg yolks and passion’. Fortunately this turned out not to be passion fruit as I had feared but a sumptous blend of truffles and pork fat of the consistency of creamy mash, scattered with yet more truffles. (I hadn’t thought of the combination of pork fat and truffles before but it’s a winner, let me tell you). With that we drank the 2010 Viñas del Vero Clarion, a rich, structured white about whose components they were curiously reticent but which seems to be Chardonnay, Gewürztraminer and Chenin Blanc.

That was followed by one of my favourite dishes of the meal, cardoons with oysters and almond sauce topped with a truffle shaving. Again a really imaginative and delicious combination of ingredients. This was served with a 2008 Clarion in magnum which suited the dish better than the younger fruitier vintage would have done.

They then brought on a potato ‘mushroom’ with ceps, a mound of fluffy truffle-infused mash moulded into a ... well, not a mushroom, more like a potato but fantastic anyway and a good match with the Blecua 2004 served in magnum.

Blecua is the flagship wine of Viñas del Vero - a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Garnacha, and Tempranillo from seven different parcels and possibly one of the best wines you've never heard of. It has more warmth and generosity than many Bordeaux and more finesse and complexity than most Spanish reds. The '04 also went perfectly with the next course, a truffle infused risotto topped with an outrageous amount of truffles.

By this stage even I was almost truffled out but just about found room for a mouthful or two of veal shanks with truffle sauce and chestnut purée (particularly good with the richer, more complex Blecua 2005) and some local truffled cheese.

And I didn’t make much impact on either of the two interesting desserts - a semi-frozen cylinder of something faintly ice creamy with amaretti crumbs and ‘snow truffles’ on muscovado cream, a truffle-inspired but, to some relief, not truffle-flavoured finale.

The general conclusion? That truffle dinners could be a lot more inventive than they generally are, that Spanish cuisine, dare I say it, has a lot to teach the French and that truffles can take younger, fruitier wines than you might imagine. Quite an experience.

The event I went to was a private one but If you want to sample chef Carmelo Bosque’s cooking go to his restaurant La Taberna de Lillas Pastia it’s in Huesca. It specialises in truffles and has a Michelin star. Tel: +34 974 211 691.

I attended the dinner as a guest of Gonzalez Byass.

 

10 Australian Shiraz - and Shiraz blends - that might surprise you

10 Australian Shiraz - and Shiraz blends - that might surprise you

Although there’s still plenty of the rich, lush style of Shiraz we’ve come to associate with Australia there’s more than one style as I discovered on my recent trip. If you like more restrained, even funky syrahs, Australian producers can deliver. Unsurprisingly many of them are organic or biodynamic and made with a minimum of sulphur. Most are from cooler vineyards. Take your pick . . .

Battle of Bosworth Puritan Shiraz 2011 (on UK shelves from March/April. about $20-22 in Australia)
If you’re going to the Bibendum tasting this week you’ll be able to taste this electric young syrah from Joch Bosworth’s (right) organically run vineyard. No oak, no sulphur, designed for early drinking. "We wanted to make a fresh, vibrant Spanish ‘Joven’ style of Shiraz ready for opening and enjoying immediately" he explains. He has.

Bobar Syrah 2009, Yarra Valley. Excel Wines has the 2010 at £120.20 for 6 bottles. £20.25 St. Clair & Galloway Fine Wines, Bognor Regis. £24.99 The Smiling Grape, £28.50 Green & Blue. Australian suppliers are on to the 2011 vintage.
More in the funky natural wine vein this won’t be to everyone’s taste and I suspect will be more susceptible than most to the day on which it’s tasted and the conditions under which it’s been stored and transported. I tasted it at a dinner at the Healesville hotel and it was delicious with a really fresh, mineral, spicy character. Unfined and unfiltered. The current 2011 vintage is only 12.5%

Castagna Adams Rib 2008 Nebbiolo/Shiraz, Beechworth £23.50 St. Clair & Galloway Fine Wines, Caves de Pyrène
I mentioned Julian Castagna’s Genesis Syrah in my Guardian article because that’s the wine that’s most widely available but I also loved this perfumed, supple Nebbiolo blend with its lovely bitter twist - the perfect wine for drinking with Italian-style grills and roasts. There's also a cracking Syrah/Sangiovese called Un Segreto at same price as the Syrah ($75 in Australia)

Clonakilla Hilltops Syrah 2009, Canberra NSW. £14.99 West Mount Wine £18.50 Fortnum & Mason slurp.co.uk has the 2010 at £16.95, $25 in Australia
Not a producer I visited but one of the best examples of new wave Aussie shiraz that you can find on the shelves at a reasonable price though it no longer seems to be available from Waitrose. More in the classic lush style but with real finesse.

Eastern Peake Walsh Block Syrah 2008, Victoria N/A in UK, $35 in Oz
I tasted this at the end of a long wine bar crawl with Max Allen at Gerard’s wine bar in Melbourne so can’t vouch for the accuracy of my tasting notes but remember finding it wonderfully fragrant, spicy and smoky. And delicious with fresh mozzarella and smoked tomatoes.

Jamsheed La Syrah 2010 N/A in UK, $20 in Australia
A bright, breezy young syrah sourced from 4 different vineyards in the Yarra Valley. 50% new oak, unfiltered, unfined “my take on Crozes - a good young quaffing syrah” says winemaker Gary Mills who worked for 2 years for Ridge in California. “A lot of the time we used to mimic South Australian shiraz. The best now comes off cooler sites.”

Ngeringa J.E.Syrah 2009* imported by Caves de Pyrène. £17.25 www.scc-finewines.co.ukaround £106.60 a case of 6 from Excel Wines, around $25 in Australia
Another bright syrah - or ‘bright and chirpy’ as Erinn Klein (right) from this biodynamic producer in the Adelaide Hills puts it. They compare the fruit to Schwetchen plums - I thought the predominant note was black cherry with a good kick of spice. Either way it’s delicious - as is the more expensive Ngeringa Syrah (about £35 here, $50-60 in Australia)
* pronounced neringa

Paxton Quandong Farm Shiraz 2009 McLaren Vale £18.90 Fareham Wine Cellar, £19.99 Cadman Fine Wines, £20.45 Noel Young Wines, £22.95 Jeroboams
I mentioned Paxton’s AAA shiraz/grenache in my Guardian column this week but I really like this scented, floral, almost violetty shiraz too which comes from a single biodynamically farmed vineyard. Shows McLaren Vale fruit can have finesse as well as weight.

Ruggabellus Archaeus 2009, Barossa N/A in UK, 40AD
One of three blends of grenache mataro and shiraz from Eden Valley which were released to rave reviews and sold out within six weeks. A fascinating insight into what young producers in the Barossa are doing - aromatic, spicy and peppery. “We use no new oak and pick early looking for vitality, crunch and intrigue” says winemaker Abel Gibson.

The Yard Riversdale Shiraz 2010 Frankland River, Larry Cherubino. N/A in UK, around $35 in Australia from March
If you want to get an idea of what Western Australia’s Frankland River is capable of look out for this sensuously soft, natural tasting shiraz with a lovely structure that Cherubino suggests drinking with duck, French-style roast lamb or spiced meatballs with rosemary. The secret? "We don’t make shiraz outside the Great Southern - Margaret River is too maritime for shiraz" he claims.

You might also be interested in two other wines I mentioned in my column, First Drop's Mother's Milk Shiraz 2009 (£14.99, The Secret Cellar, Tunbridge Wells; £15.03, The Sampler, London SW7; £15.99, Cambridge Wine Merchants) and Picardy Shiraz (£22, auswineonline.co.uk)

Pairing cheese and claret

Pairing cheese and claret

I’ve always had a bit of a problem finding cheese matches for red Bordeaux. Cheddar is often suggested but I find mature versions have too much ‘bite’. Stilton slays it and so do most washed rind cheeses, oozy Camemberts and Bries . . .

The most successful match I’ve found so far is Mimolette so maybe it was auto-suggestion at work when I tasted a deep orange Red Leicester at The Fine Cheese Co’s Cheese Fair in Bath at the weekend and immediately thought of red Bordeaux.

It was the Sparkenhoe Red Leicester from David and Jo Clarke of the Leicestershire Handmade Cheese Co. a revival of an old recipe and a lovely mellow, typically English cheese. Extraordinarily it hasn’t actually been made in Leicestershire for 20 years and for even longer - over 50 years - on a farm in the county.

It has more flavour than milder cheeses like Caerphilly and Wensleydale which are better suited to a white wine in my opinion but lacks the intensity of a farmhouse cheddar which can sometimes throw a medium to full-bodied red. I tried it with a bottle of André Lurton’s 2004 Chateau La Louvire Pessac-Lognan from Bibendum, a mature Bordeaux of exactly the sort you might bring out with the cheese over Christmas and it was perfect.

Coincidentally I tried another aged Bordeaux (a 1999 Chateau Tour du Haut-Moulin which was drinking quite beautifully) with cheese the following day and found that although it was again overpowered by a ripe Brie it went really well with a Vacherin Mont d’Or, a combination I’d never have expected. I think it was probably because the cheese wasn’t that mature and the wine was. The problem with reds and cheese is mainly about unintegrated tannins. Older vintages seem to survive better.

Photo by Ray Piedra

Pairing Cheese and Champagne

Pairing Cheese and Champagne

Cheese and champagne might not sound like natural bedfellows but if you think about the pairing for a moment you immediately realise they have quite a thing going. Many canapés - like gougères and cheese straws - are made with cheese for example and go wonderfully well with champagne but what about individual cheeses?

I had the opportunity to taste a range of cheeses with champagne recently and came to a few new conclusions.

  • Mild slightly chalky cheeses work well. The classic example is Chaource, a cheese which is often paired with champagne but a mild but flavourful cheese like Gorwydd Caerphilly is good too. Very mild cheese like Mozzarella is an undemanding but also slightly uninteresting match
  • Rosé champagne seems a more flexible partner than ordinary non-vintage. We tried two - a Moet rosé and a Benoit Marguet Grand Cru Rosé and they both showed well, particularly with Mistralou (goats cheese wrapped in chestnut leaf) and a Brie de Meaux. But a stronger goats’ cheese killed the Marguet stone dead so you need to take care.
  • An Ossau Iraty sheeps cheese went well with most of the champagnes - the slightly nutty taste and smooth texture of hard sheeps’ cheese seems a good foil to champagne
  • Washed rind cheeses as usual are tricky. If they’re not too mature, like the Reblochon and Langres we tried, they may work but if they’ve been allowed to get very mature like an incredibly gooey St Marcellin they’ll slaughter champagne (along with most other wines)
  • Strong blues, as might be expected, are quite overwhelming but the creamy texture of Stichelton, an unpasteurised verson of Stilton, made it an unexpectedly good match for an elegant low dosage Jacquesson 732 (though coming mainly from the 2004 vintage it has quite a bit of bottle age)
  • Parmesan is probably the ultimate champagne cheese - a case of umami meets umami

In general the stronger the cheese the older and more powerful the champagne you need. A mature Comté for example overwhelmed the fresh-tasting non-vintage champagnes but I suspect would have been great with an older champagne or a Prestige Cuve like Krug.

I shall just have to carry on experimenting ;-)

Image by delo from Pixabay

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