The search for scab's pinot continues.
Prior to the 2001 vintage Chanson had arguably the worst reputation of any of the negotiants of Beaune, think Louis Latour; Drouhin; Jadot. Bollinger bought the company from the Marion family in 1999. Bollinger immediately found themselves at the centre of a scandal which was not of their making. Over 700,000 bottles in the cellars were found to be illegally blended wines.
Cellar master Marc Cugney had, under the supervision of the Marions, committed numerous fraudulent acts in the cellars. Standard Bourgogne had been bulked up with Vins de Pays from Languedoc and wines from Allicante. Some red burgundies contained in excess of 75% vins de pays! Certain site specific wines including those from the famous Clos des Mouches and Beaune Greves were blended from a concoction of wines. Worryingly these wines passed the agrement ( testing and tasting by the INAO required if the wines are to be granted the AOC). Evidence given at the trial indicated that over 25% of Chanson's wines in 2000, 1999 and 1998 were fraudulent. In light of this my advice would be to avoid Chanson wine predating 2002 like the plague. There are a couple of older bits and pieces knocking around various branches of O'Briens at apparently reasonable prices for bottle aged Burgundy. For the reasons stated above I haven't tried any of these, but would caution against purchase.
Fortunately those days are firmly behind Chanson now. Bollinger have installed the team of Giles de Courcel- of the illustrious Domaine de Courcel in Pommard, and winemaker Jean-Pierre Confuron- of Confuron-Cotetidot at Vosne-Romanee. Together these two have redefined quality at Chanson and the wines are improving with every vintage.
My impression of the overhauled Chanson wines are as follows ( based on the relatively limited wines I have tried) . The reds are more consistent than the whites, although the whites have come significantly since 2005. From what I have read the 2006 whites are superb, notably the Pernand-Vergelesses En Caradeux 2006. The 2005 is very good too, although there appears to be a hint of free sulphur knocking around. ( perhaps this is in reaction to the phenomenon for premature oxidation of white burgundy experienced in recent years, suppposedly caused by, amongst other things, a trend for increasingly low sulphur dosages in recent years).
I have been less impressed by their Savigny Les Beaune les Hauts Marconnets 2004, which appeared to be suffering from a serious fault in a couple of bottles, characterised by a horribly pronounced curry leaf aroma. At the far end of the scale their Macon Village 2008 is undoubtedly good value for money and a fantastic party wine. I have read that this is O'Brien's best selling wine.
The reds from the Cotes de Beaune, Chanson's home turf, have a better reputation than their wines from the Cotes de Nuits and Cotes Chalonnaise. I have tasted many of the 2002 Beaune Premier Cru reds and would recommend them all, particularly the Clos des Feves. I have come across a couple of corked bottles of Clos du Roi 2002. I would skip the 2003 and 2004s, although I have not tasted them. The 2005s are more expensive than the 2002s, presumably because Bollinger are not doing this for the good of their health! In fairness to O'Briens though the pricing is roughly in line with cellar door retail prices in France, and you could probably pay a lot more for these wines in a posh shop in Paris.
The 2005 Clos des Feves scored 19/20 in the Bettane and Desseauve Guide 2008- in the same league as the Romanee Conti's of this world- and is still a bit of a bargain at 55 euro. I have one sacred bottle which I am keeping for my fiftieth, or when I qualify for the bar- whichever happens first! The Beaune Greves 2005 is also damn fine and rated so by Jancis Robinson. I had a bottle recently over Sunday lunch. Way, way too young but pretty damn tasty nonetheless.
I was less impressed by their Mercurey 2006, and Cotes de Nuits 2006. That is not to say that these wines are bad but that they were less expressive, and less interesting than the wines above. Having said that both were just under twenty euro so I am not sure that this is a fair comparison.
Anyway, what about their Bourgogne Rouge 2007?
Wine: Light in body. Fairly muted on the nose with some red fruit character and a touch of pinot whiff. Light to medium bodied on the palate, old world ripe with refreshing acidity and sufficient grip to stand up to plain salmon or chicken. Refined, elegant and restrained. Nothing spectacular here, but very well done. Would buy again, recommended. Available for 15.95 in O'Briens. 11 euro at Chanson in France.
Also recommended by Bettane and Desseauve Guide 2010. 15/20 and smiley face for good value!
Friday, February 19, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Le Preverre, Rue Thenard, Paris 5eme
Unlike the Irish rugby team, I have learnt from my visits to Paris over the years. Despite its reputation as a foodie Mecca I have found that eating out in Paris can be surprisingly (i) expensive (ii) hit and miss. Mark ups on wines are generally higher than in Ireland, and the food can be punchy too for what you are getting. With this in mind I put a psychotic amount of research into where to eat and, thankfully, came up trumphs. This involved long hours on the internet and texting anyone I could think of who regularly eats out in Paris.
The ever increasing number of bistro-nomique restaurants are probably the most interesting places to eat in Paris at the moment. The 'nomique' refers to both 'gastronomique' and 'economique'. Over the past number of years the prices of the top restaurants have risen to such an extent that most of the population simply cannot afford to ever eat in them. Even in a country like France where normal working people will actively save to dine out in a top restaurant perhaps once a year, these restaurants are considered ludicrously expensive. It should be noted that this is not simple profiteering by these restaurants, it is simply unbelievably expensive to run such operations. You need a fancy address (high rents), a huge number of front of house staff; an army in the kitchen to assemble each dish; and massively expensive raw ingredients (lobster; foie gras; turbot; chickens with postgraduate degrees etc). The Michelin system is a vicious cycle, requiring the output of ever larger sums to either retain the stars you have, and constant refurbs, crockery changes, refits etc if you hope to move from one level to the next.
At the other end of the scale many of the better known traditional bistro/brasserie restaurants in Paris are owned by various big operations where the bottom line is the primary motivating factor. The food tends towards to be generic, bistro classics trotted out using bog standard ingredients. Many tourists end up in these premises, swept along by the romance of big, busy, historic restaurants serving classic french fair but culminating in an ultimately disappointing experience.
It is therefore unsurprising that it is more difficult to eat out well in Paris than the capital's image as a food destination would have you believe.
The Bistronomique movement is an effort to address this lacuna. The philosophy behind these independently owned restaurants is that just because you can't afford to eat in the top restaurants does not mean that you should have to eat badly. The customer is still entitled to enjoy dishes made with the top ingredients appropriate to this level of restaurant. You won't find too much lobster or Wagu beef on the menu but every detail of the food from the bread to the coffee has been carefully selected to maximise quality. Many of the chefs in these restaurants have worked in the two and three stared establishments and become disillusioned by the elitism and essential falsity of this over-refined style of dining.
Le Pre-verre is a small restaurant on Rue Thenard in the 5eme, specialising in wines from small producers and the subtle use of spices in food. I had reservations about the latter, as I was concerned about the over zealous, and needless application of spices across the menu. Fortunately my visions of turmeric cheesecake never materialized as all spices were used in a judicious and sparing manner, and served to add subtle complexity to the food.
The wine list was the main reason I had booked Le Preverre. Wine lists in Paris vary massively in price and quality. At the lower end many cafes simply list the wine with no reference to producer or vintage. Elsewhere you can pay in excess of Dublin prices for pretty bog standard wines. At Michelin star level the sky is the limit, and you will be lucky to find anything half-way decent for less than 60 euro. By contrast Le Preverre has a short, but perfectly formed wine list. The list is divided into everyday wines, prices from 20 something to 50 something euro, and special occasion wines from 60 to 150 euro. All the wines are sourced from small, independent producers such as Barmes-Buecher from Alsace; Muzard from Burgundy; Domaines David and Saladin from the Southern Rhone; Domaine Tempier from Bandol. Scab that I am we stuck to the everyday section and had a lovely white Santenay Champs Claude 07 from Muzard (48 euro), and, as recommended by the sommelier, a rich, dark 2002 Cahors le Cid from Domaine Cosse-Maisonneuve (52 euro).
By Parisian standards the interior was lacking in dark wood, mirrors, zinc bars and a touch of Parisian romance. The restaurant is not going to win many prizes in this regard, although the space was pleasant, convivial and well lit.
We started with two portions of seared, carpaccio-ed scallops, with jerusalem artichoke puree and chips chips or artichoke and a plate of guinea-fowl terrine. The scallops were served topped with well dressed rocket leaves and a few strips of unidentified red vegetable. The round richness of artichoke puree was perfect with the delicate, yet rich scallops. The searing gave them a caramelized exterior which contrasted perfectly with the delicate raw scallop within.
The guinea fowl terrine was delicious. The dish was served with a lively kumquats sauce and mixed leaves in a nut-oil based dressing. The top of the loaf shaped terrine had been rolled in poppy seeds- the spice theme I mentioned earlier. It was moist and moreish.
The Santenay had a nice weight and good presence, without being in any way heavy or oily. Bright acidity and minerality made it refreshing and it was a perfect match with the richness of the scallops and puree.
Main courses were a shared rib of beef with smoked mashed potatoes and wasabi sauce- a signature dish- and slow braised pork in a milk with crisp cabbage. The beef was fabulous, in stark contrast to a tough, flavourless and expensive rib of beef recently ordered in a nameless south Dublin establishment. The meat was perfectly rare as requested. I would generally be wary of ordering this as the connetive tissue around the rib can require a slight bit more cooking than pure fillet, but this was perfect, testiment to the high quality of ingredients used here. The beef had great flavour and a melting texture. The smokiness of the mash was french in its understatement- which is a complement, I think? The wasabi sauce did not appear to be in evidence though, although the steak was topped with a red coloured dressing which contained shallots. All in all, pretty damn good.
The pork was seriously bloody good. Tender without being string, it had been poached in the milk which now formed its sauce. There was a faint rasp of anise in the sauce. Pork's friend cabbage was along for the ride and thoroughly enjoyed himself.
The Cahors was ideal with the beef. Full, Rich and smooth it still had a long, long life ahead of it, or would have done if we had not finished the whole bottle.
Nothing on the dessert list really screamed for us to order it. New York Cheesecake is apparently the house special, but not the idea follow up to any of the mainers. Roast pineapple with black sesame icecream sounded interesting, but not tempting. Ever eager for calories, especially those derived from a dairy source, I ordered the cheese.
The cheese board was a slight let down after the meal, which had been very, very good. I readily identified a slice of Brie de Meaux ( Donge I think), and what I assumed was Fourme d'Ambert.
The third cheese has a pinkish hue on the rind and a chalky texture, I wondered was it Langres.
I asked the japanese waitress, 'what are the cheeses?', she helpfully replied that the cheese were the white pieces and that the green pieces were the salad. The mystery cheese turned out to be Mont d'Or, which should never be in anyway chalky. I'm not saying the cheeses were bad, far from it, but there were disappointing after what had preceded them.
We finished with three good coffees and petit fours of mini chocolate pots flavoured with liquorice. These were delicious, especially accompanied by the warm glow of smugness that accompanies the correct identification of a particular flavour when your dinner companions have failed to do so.
I would heartily recommend Le Pre-Verre to anyone staying in the centre of Paris who likes good wines, good food and affordable prices. The menu and wine list change every month and are available on their website www.lepreverre.com
The ever increasing number of bistro-nomique restaurants are probably the most interesting places to eat in Paris at the moment. The 'nomique' refers to both 'gastronomique' and 'economique'. Over the past number of years the prices of the top restaurants have risen to such an extent that most of the population simply cannot afford to ever eat in them. Even in a country like France where normal working people will actively save to dine out in a top restaurant perhaps once a year, these restaurants are considered ludicrously expensive. It should be noted that this is not simple profiteering by these restaurants, it is simply unbelievably expensive to run such operations. You need a fancy address (high rents), a huge number of front of house staff; an army in the kitchen to assemble each dish; and massively expensive raw ingredients (lobster; foie gras; turbot; chickens with postgraduate degrees etc). The Michelin system is a vicious cycle, requiring the output of ever larger sums to either retain the stars you have, and constant refurbs, crockery changes, refits etc if you hope to move from one level to the next.
At the other end of the scale many of the better known traditional bistro/brasserie restaurants in Paris are owned by various big operations where the bottom line is the primary motivating factor. The food tends towards to be generic, bistro classics trotted out using bog standard ingredients. Many tourists end up in these premises, swept along by the romance of big, busy, historic restaurants serving classic french fair but culminating in an ultimately disappointing experience.
It is therefore unsurprising that it is more difficult to eat out well in Paris than the capital's image as a food destination would have you believe.
The Bistronomique movement is an effort to address this lacuna. The philosophy behind these independently owned restaurants is that just because you can't afford to eat in the top restaurants does not mean that you should have to eat badly. The customer is still entitled to enjoy dishes made with the top ingredients appropriate to this level of restaurant. You won't find too much lobster or Wagu beef on the menu but every detail of the food from the bread to the coffee has been carefully selected to maximise quality. Many of the chefs in these restaurants have worked in the two and three stared establishments and become disillusioned by the elitism and essential falsity of this over-refined style of dining.
Le Pre-verre is a small restaurant on Rue Thenard in the 5eme, specialising in wines from small producers and the subtle use of spices in food. I had reservations about the latter, as I was concerned about the over zealous, and needless application of spices across the menu. Fortunately my visions of turmeric cheesecake never materialized as all spices were used in a judicious and sparing manner, and served to add subtle complexity to the food.
The wine list was the main reason I had booked Le Preverre. Wine lists in Paris vary massively in price and quality. At the lower end many cafes simply list the wine with no reference to producer or vintage. Elsewhere you can pay in excess of Dublin prices for pretty bog standard wines. At Michelin star level the sky is the limit, and you will be lucky to find anything half-way decent for less than 60 euro. By contrast Le Preverre has a short, but perfectly formed wine list. The list is divided into everyday wines, prices from 20 something to 50 something euro, and special occasion wines from 60 to 150 euro. All the wines are sourced from small, independent producers such as Barmes-Buecher from Alsace; Muzard from Burgundy; Domaines David and Saladin from the Southern Rhone; Domaine Tempier from Bandol. Scab that I am we stuck to the everyday section and had a lovely white Santenay Champs Claude 07 from Muzard (48 euro), and, as recommended by the sommelier, a rich, dark 2002 Cahors le Cid from Domaine Cosse-Maisonneuve (52 euro).
By Parisian standards the interior was lacking in dark wood, mirrors, zinc bars and a touch of Parisian romance. The restaurant is not going to win many prizes in this regard, although the space was pleasant, convivial and well lit.
We started with two portions of seared, carpaccio-ed scallops, with jerusalem artichoke puree and chips chips or artichoke and a plate of guinea-fowl terrine. The scallops were served topped with well dressed rocket leaves and a few strips of unidentified red vegetable. The round richness of artichoke puree was perfect with the delicate, yet rich scallops. The searing gave them a caramelized exterior which contrasted perfectly with the delicate raw scallop within.
The guinea fowl terrine was delicious. The dish was served with a lively kumquats sauce and mixed leaves in a nut-oil based dressing. The top of the loaf shaped terrine had been rolled in poppy seeds- the spice theme I mentioned earlier. It was moist and moreish.
The Santenay had a nice weight and good presence, without being in any way heavy or oily. Bright acidity and minerality made it refreshing and it was a perfect match with the richness of the scallops and puree.
Main courses were a shared rib of beef with smoked mashed potatoes and wasabi sauce- a signature dish- and slow braised pork in a milk with crisp cabbage. The beef was fabulous, in stark contrast to a tough, flavourless and expensive rib of beef recently ordered in a nameless south Dublin establishment. The meat was perfectly rare as requested. I would generally be wary of ordering this as the connetive tissue around the rib can require a slight bit more cooking than pure fillet, but this was perfect, testiment to the high quality of ingredients used here. The beef had great flavour and a melting texture. The smokiness of the mash was french in its understatement- which is a complement, I think? The wasabi sauce did not appear to be in evidence though, although the steak was topped with a red coloured dressing which contained shallots. All in all, pretty damn good.
The pork was seriously bloody good. Tender without being string, it had been poached in the milk which now formed its sauce. There was a faint rasp of anise in the sauce. Pork's friend cabbage was along for the ride and thoroughly enjoyed himself.
The Cahors was ideal with the beef. Full, Rich and smooth it still had a long, long life ahead of it, or would have done if we had not finished the whole bottle.
Nothing on the dessert list really screamed for us to order it. New York Cheesecake is apparently the house special, but not the idea follow up to any of the mainers. Roast pineapple with black sesame icecream sounded interesting, but not tempting. Ever eager for calories, especially those derived from a dairy source, I ordered the cheese.
The cheese board was a slight let down after the meal, which had been very, very good. I readily identified a slice of Brie de Meaux ( Donge I think), and what I assumed was Fourme d'Ambert.
The third cheese has a pinkish hue on the rind and a chalky texture, I wondered was it Langres.
I asked the japanese waitress, 'what are the cheeses?', she helpfully replied that the cheese were the white pieces and that the green pieces were the salad. The mystery cheese turned out to be Mont d'Or, which should never be in anyway chalky. I'm not saying the cheeses were bad, far from it, but there were disappointing after what had preceded them.
We finished with three good coffees and petit fours of mini chocolate pots flavoured with liquorice. These were delicious, especially accompanied by the warm glow of smugness that accompanies the correct identification of a particular flavour when your dinner companions have failed to do so.
I would heartily recommend Le Pre-Verre to anyone staying in the centre of Paris who likes good wines, good food and affordable prices. The menu and wine list change every month and are available on their website www.lepreverre.com
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Scab's Pinot Noir
The eternal quandry, you love Pinot Noir but are too scabby/ broke/ jobless/ homeless to buy a passable example( 17 euro minimum and no guarantee of quality). What to do? Reach with trepidation for a jammy Chilean or cheap, icing-sugared Kiwi?
Nay sir. The scabby wisedom lies in Marks and Spencer's Palatia Pinot Noir 2008 (12.99) from the Pfalz. M&S must have been justifiably fearful that anyone seeing a bottle which is a)from Germany and b) red wine, would run screaming for the padded safety of the underwear department. Accordingly the Spencers have cunningly disguised this wine with a trendy modern label and the name Palataia- derived from the state Rhineland-Palatinate. The overall effect is to allow the customer's inner dyslexic to takeover thus fostering the assumption that this wine must be from somewhere in Italy. 'I'll certainly try that' thinks the customer to himself, ' I love Italian wine and I've heard of Pinot Noir'. No one runs for cover to the underwear section, and Marks and Spencer sell a bottle of German red wine. Once at home indepth rereading of the back label with a highlighter pen just about reveals that this wine is from Pfalz, but by then the damage has been done and the customer is actively enjoying a bottle of german pinot noir.
But enough about the theory, what does the wine taste like?
It is fairly light, but juicy at the same time. There is a distinct pinot souboise nose and plenty of crunchy raspberry. The acidity is refreshing and the tannins are smooth. All in all this is good stuff and worth a hell of a lot more than 12.99 euro. It should be noted in passing that the same bottle is a risible 7.99 stg. Marks and Spencer often also do decent reductions on any 6 bottles.
Finally I suppose it is worth reflecting on the fact that a shop like Marks and Spencers are not buying German Pinot Noir because it sells itself, as a Chablis or Fleurie undoubtedly would.
It is probable that anything more outre than the usual categories is there because it is actively good, not because it is something they have to have.
This wine is also recommended by Jancis Robinson and Tim Aiken.
Try it with some plainly cooked salmon, or white meat.
Nay sir. The scabby wisedom lies in Marks and Spencer's Palatia Pinot Noir 2008 (12.99) from the Pfalz. M&S must have been justifiably fearful that anyone seeing a bottle which is a)from Germany and b) red wine, would run screaming for the padded safety of the underwear department. Accordingly the Spencers have cunningly disguised this wine with a trendy modern label and the name Palataia- derived from the state Rhineland-Palatinate. The overall effect is to allow the customer's inner dyslexic to takeover thus fostering the assumption that this wine must be from somewhere in Italy. 'I'll certainly try that' thinks the customer to himself, ' I love Italian wine and I've heard of Pinot Noir'. No one runs for cover to the underwear section, and Marks and Spencer sell a bottle of German red wine. Once at home indepth rereading of the back label with a highlighter pen just about reveals that this wine is from Pfalz, but by then the damage has been done and the customer is actively enjoying a bottle of german pinot noir.
But enough about the theory, what does the wine taste like?
It is fairly light, but juicy at the same time. There is a distinct pinot souboise nose and plenty of crunchy raspberry. The acidity is refreshing and the tannins are smooth. All in all this is good stuff and worth a hell of a lot more than 12.99 euro. It should be noted in passing that the same bottle is a risible 7.99 stg. Marks and Spencer often also do decent reductions on any 6 bottles.
Finally I suppose it is worth reflecting on the fact that a shop like Marks and Spencers are not buying German Pinot Noir because it sells itself, as a Chablis or Fleurie undoubtedly would.
It is probable that anything more outre than the usual categories is there because it is actively good, not because it is something they have to have.
This wine is also recommended by Jancis Robinson and Tim Aiken.
Try it with some plainly cooked salmon, or white meat.
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