It's tough to say no to surf and turf.
True, I was being invited by a happy couple, so I'd be the odd man out.
And I do have an early morning tomorrow, so I really didn't need a late night with lots of good wine. But how better to celebrate Memorial Day than with a cook-out?
A long-time friend invited me to join him and his girlfriend for a backyard feast of lobster, lamb and veggies. His only concern was that I like butter, garlic and mesquite. Check, check and check.
When I arrived, they were chopping and I joined them in sipping a White Haven Sauvignon Blanc, of which we made short work.
Talk centered around the new Egyptian Gallery (she being as big an art nerd as me), ocean swimming and past loves.
Next up was the New Harbor Sauvignon Blanc, tasting less of cat you-know-what, which lasted through the grilling process and into dinner.
The lobster tails were succulent with melted butter and followed by medium -rare lamb and grilled vegetables with onions, garlic and butter. It was a meal to savor and linger over as darkness descended.
It was at that point that I shared my contribution to the evening, the lovely 2001 Bodegas Carrau Tannat Amat, a rustic red to die for, which I'd been cellaring for a while now.
It's been a huge favorite of mine since the wine dinner at Bistro 27 with Francisco Carrua, the winemaker who kindly invited me to Uruguay after I fell in love with his wines, here.
My friends were as impressed with the black plum and blackberry nose of this wine as I had been, savoring how it continued to open up as we sat on his backyard deck enjoying our meal with the fireflies lighting up all around us.
We drained the bottle of Tannat before deciding that we needed chocolate, so we gathered our forces and walked over to Bonvenu to scratch that itch. It was a lovely night for a walk, even a short one.
Carytown had a decent crowd, although certainly not the typical Saturday night usual. Good or bad, it didn't matter to us; we were three blocks away and it was convenient and that's all that really mattered.
Although the bar was full, we settled for a table and ordered a bottle of the Pol Deau Blanc de Blanc to accompany a chocolate ganache with cream and blueberries as well as a flourless chocolate torte.
If bubbles and chocolate can't finish off a satisfying evening, nothing can (okay, besides the obvious and currently unobtainable).
On the stroll home, my friend offered to perform an impromptu viola solo when we arrived at his house, but those of us with a busy day tomorrow bowed out.
There was no way we were going to top that meal or the Tannat, so I decided to head out while my star was still ascending.
Besides, happy couples need some time alone on a lovely spring night so I was extraneous at that point. At least that's the way I'd feel if I were part of the happy couple.
I almost remember what that was like...Tannat and fireflies, as I recall.
Showing posts with label bodegas carrau. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bodegas carrau. Show all posts
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
It Takes One to Know Me
Once a winemaker invites you to Uruguay, you never really lose a taste for his wines. And with the frequency with which you see Uruguayan wines on wine lists, you never miss a chance to revisit them. Or maybe that's just me.
So after taking a seat at Acacia's bar (where the stranger next to me asked, "Are you Karen?"), the wine list immediately captured my attention with Bodegas Carrau Sauvignon Blanc "Sur Lie."
I'd fallen in love with Francisco Carrau's wines here, and told my friend what an interesting and handsome man I'd found him to be that evening, in the hopes that that would be enough to convince her ("We're drinking his wine because he's attractive?" she asked. Only partly, my dear).
It worked. Anyway, once she tasted the lovely citrus notes and that creamy texture, she was a goner. Everything was working out according to my my master plan.
What with it being half-priced bottle night, I felt sure sure there were a couple of bottles in our future ( there were) and a discussion followed with bartender Arthur of geography when my friend acknowledged not knowing where Uruguay was.
Before long, Arthur kindly let us know that "the bus had just arrived" referring to the sudden influx of customers to the restaurant, should we want to consider food before the masses did.
We took it as a cue to order, no small challenge for my finicky friend who can belabor a menu like no one on earth. I, on the other hand, slid right into a mounding salad of apple, raisin, cashews, mixed lettuces, bleu cheese and celery seed vinaigrette.
When she finally did decide, her roasted yellow pepper soup with crab and creme fraiche was exquisitely rich and flavorful; she guiltily gave me half the bowl and I devoured it, cream be damned.
All around us, the place was buzzing, partly due to the pulsing house music (if you close your eyes, it's hard to believe you're in a Richmond restaurant) and partly due to the ever-changing bar crowd (most people ultimately end up at a table) that kept new faces and conversations around us all evening.
For dinner, I had the tuna ceviche Peruvian-style with cucumbers onion and avocado. The squared-off serving with fried leeks atop it was bound in creamy avocado with crispy bits of onions and cukes for textural contrast.
The Peruvian heat infused every bite and I patted myself on the back for how well my Sur Lie complemented the spicy dish. Francisco would have approved the pairing, I feel quite certain.
Her flounder, kale and cheese grits went just as well with it (I know because I tasted it), but I seemed to be enjoying my dinner choice far more than she was. Picky is as picky does; I feel sure someone's grandmother said that.
Our evening out had been necessitated by her being out of town the past two weeks and me having my most active personal life in two plus years during the same period, so there was much to discuss.
I'd even been late to our dinner plans because I'd been chatting on the phone with, well, someone worth chatting with on the phone.
And my distaste for the phone is legendary amongst those who know me (those who just want to get to know are merely perplexed), if that tells you anything. The lovely Sur Lie greased the wheels for all of it.
We finished up with peach Melba bread pudding with brown butter ice cream and, given the chance, I could have eaten an entire bowl of that ice cream.
As a child, I could never understand my mother's obsession with butter pecan ice cream. Only now do I see how butter and cream are made for each other, kind of like Johnny and June.
That's all I need: someone to be the Johnny to my June, the butter to my pecan. How hard can that be to acknowledge?
Looks like I'm finding out.
So after taking a seat at Acacia's bar (where the stranger next to me asked, "Are you Karen?"), the wine list immediately captured my attention with Bodegas Carrau Sauvignon Blanc "Sur Lie."
I'd fallen in love with Francisco Carrau's wines here, and told my friend what an interesting and handsome man I'd found him to be that evening, in the hopes that that would be enough to convince her ("We're drinking his wine because he's attractive?" she asked. Only partly, my dear).
It worked. Anyway, once she tasted the lovely citrus notes and that creamy texture, she was a goner. Everything was working out according to my my master plan.
What with it being half-priced bottle night, I felt sure sure there were a couple of bottles in our future ( there were) and a discussion followed with bartender Arthur of geography when my friend acknowledged not knowing where Uruguay was.
Before long, Arthur kindly let us know that "the bus had just arrived" referring to the sudden influx of customers to the restaurant, should we want to consider food before the masses did.
We took it as a cue to order, no small challenge for my finicky friend who can belabor a menu like no one on earth. I, on the other hand, slid right into a mounding salad of apple, raisin, cashews, mixed lettuces, bleu cheese and celery seed vinaigrette.
When she finally did decide, her roasted yellow pepper soup with crab and creme fraiche was exquisitely rich and flavorful; she guiltily gave me half the bowl and I devoured it, cream be damned.
All around us, the place was buzzing, partly due to the pulsing house music (if you close your eyes, it's hard to believe you're in a Richmond restaurant) and partly due to the ever-changing bar crowd (most people ultimately end up at a table) that kept new faces and conversations around us all evening.
For dinner, I had the tuna ceviche Peruvian-style with cucumbers onion and avocado. The squared-off serving with fried leeks atop it was bound in creamy avocado with crispy bits of onions and cukes for textural contrast.
The Peruvian heat infused every bite and I patted myself on the back for how well my Sur Lie complemented the spicy dish. Francisco would have approved the pairing, I feel quite certain.
Her flounder, kale and cheese grits went just as well with it (I know because I tasted it), but I seemed to be enjoying my dinner choice far more than she was. Picky is as picky does; I feel sure someone's grandmother said that.
Our evening out had been necessitated by her being out of town the past two weeks and me having my most active personal life in two plus years during the same period, so there was much to discuss.
I'd even been late to our dinner plans because I'd been chatting on the phone with, well, someone worth chatting with on the phone.
And my distaste for the phone is legendary amongst those who know me (those who just want to get to know are merely perplexed), if that tells you anything. The lovely Sur Lie greased the wheels for all of it.
We finished up with peach Melba bread pudding with brown butter ice cream and, given the chance, I could have eaten an entire bowl of that ice cream.
As a child, I could never understand my mother's obsession with butter pecan ice cream. Only now do I see how butter and cream are made for each other, kind of like Johnny and June.
That's all I need: someone to be the Johnny to my June, the butter to my pecan. How hard can that be to acknowledge?
Looks like I'm finding out.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Wine! It's What's for Lunch
I had my first experience with the three-martini lunch today, except that there were no martinis involved.
It started innocently enough with lunch plans to meet a girlfriend at Bistro 27.
On the walk over, I ran into my Whiskey Wednesday buddy (who, sadly, no longer resides in J-Ward) but it provided plenty of catch-up talk about Against Me! and good Mexican in Carytown.
It's weird how we run into each other as much, if not more, than when we lived a block and a half apart.
So, on to the Bistro 27 experience.
First of all, let me state for the record that Carlos is one of my favorite chef friends in all of RVA.
He always produces amazing food and he always makes time for stellar conversation and insider insight; that he's devastatingly handsome doesn't hurt, either.
Because of my whiskey friend delay, my perennially tardy friend was already in place at the bar when I arrived, a highly unusual circumstance, since she's known for her lack of punctuality.
The server was just pouring her glass of vino verde when I arrived.
Since we were the only bar customers, I made it easy for her and just ordered the same.
No one should have to work too hard on a Thursday afternoon this beautiful.
Before we could even order, Carlos presented us with a gigantic bowl of mussels in a tomato/herb broth with fresh-out-of-the-oven sundried tomato focaccia.
Perhaps he thought we needed something to wash down with our vino verde, but whatever the reason for his generosity, they were scrumptious.
For lunch I had the Gorgonzola chicken salad and friend had the Mediterranean wrap (enormous, btw) and sweet potato fries.
We were smart to lay down a base because Carlos was happy to have, in his words, "two beautiful women at my bar," and things quickly devolved from lunch to an afternoon wine party, complete with wine reps dropping by and assorted other vendors coming in, joining in and moving on.
Like any good party, a rotating guest list makes for the best possible conversational possibilities.
Carlos had a brilliant idea for restaurant recycling, an especially critical issue since the city doesn't pick up commercial recycling.
His proposal was to work out an arrangement to use a couple of the city recycling trucks at off times once a week to collect restaurant recyclables, which would then be taken to one of the stations that process them.
Any proceeds from the abundance of glass and cardboard donated would go directly to the Central Virginia Food Bank.
As it is, many restaurateurs don't recycle because of the hassle of taking it to a site, so it sounds like a win/win situation (Portland or San Fran-like, even).
Thoughts from the peanut gallery?
My friend is dating someone, but tonight she has a date with someone else entirely, so we spent a fair amount of time discussing the male/female dynamic and how it plays out.
Carlos and I shared tales of marriage and our preference for being in a committed relationship rather than loose in the dating world.
Of course, there was a fair amount of finger-pointing at the opposite sex for the foibles that tangle us up in less-than-satisfactory relationships, but all in good fun.
Also on the table were the changes in 27's menu for the upcoming warm weather season. I was ecstatic to hear that he'll be adding the Bobo de Camarae, drooled over here, to his summer menu and, best of all, in an appetizer portion. Hallelujah!
This dish must be experienced and now anyone will have that opportunity to experience a true Brazilian dish with its African influences.
He told us about other Brazilian additions for the summer, but I'll leave you to discover them on your own.
I love that these dishes he usually only makes for his family are now available to the non-Brazilian masses (read: me).
Lest you think the abundance of wine limited us to only sex and restaurant talk, one of the most satisfying discussions of the afternoon was about the loss of childhood and the delay of the maturation process.
Not one of us could make an argument for the majority today having their act together by age 30.
How is it we have 12-year olds who are going on 25 and 28-year olds still trying to figure out life's basic requirements?
We didn't have an answer.
If I've made 27 sound like a great neighborhood joint where you'd want to hang out, it's because it is.
If you don't believe me, check out their Ste. Michelles Estates wine dinner next Thursday.
The last wine dinner I went to there was also five course (and the courses are generous, so pace yourself), presented by Bodegas Carrau (I'm still coveting my last bottle of the Tannat for a very special occasion) and this one is an even better deal.
It's only $55 and that's all-inclusive.
You will be full, you will be loopy and you will take food home. Just sayin'.
But I digress.
After a nearly four hour lunch, it occurred to my friend that she had a date to prepare for and, while my plans don't involve a date tonight, they do involve a music-loving friend, dinner, multiple bands and a meet-up with a favorite girlfriend afterwards.
Time to get cleaned up and exit the Ward for a while.
Should you care to check back, full report to come.
It started innocently enough with lunch plans to meet a girlfriend at Bistro 27.
On the walk over, I ran into my Whiskey Wednesday buddy (who, sadly, no longer resides in J-Ward) but it provided plenty of catch-up talk about Against Me! and good Mexican in Carytown.
It's weird how we run into each other as much, if not more, than when we lived a block and a half apart.
So, on to the Bistro 27 experience.
First of all, let me state for the record that Carlos is one of my favorite chef friends in all of RVA.
He always produces amazing food and he always makes time for stellar conversation and insider insight; that he's devastatingly handsome doesn't hurt, either.
Because of my whiskey friend delay, my perennially tardy friend was already in place at the bar when I arrived, a highly unusual circumstance, since she's known for her lack of punctuality.
The server was just pouring her glass of vino verde when I arrived.
Since we were the only bar customers, I made it easy for her and just ordered the same.
No one should have to work too hard on a Thursday afternoon this beautiful.
Before we could even order, Carlos presented us with a gigantic bowl of mussels in a tomato/herb broth with fresh-out-of-the-oven sundried tomato focaccia.
Perhaps he thought we needed something to wash down with our vino verde, but whatever the reason for his generosity, they were scrumptious.
For lunch I had the Gorgonzola chicken salad and friend had the Mediterranean wrap (enormous, btw) and sweet potato fries.
We were smart to lay down a base because Carlos was happy to have, in his words, "two beautiful women at my bar," and things quickly devolved from lunch to an afternoon wine party, complete with wine reps dropping by and assorted other vendors coming in, joining in and moving on.
Like any good party, a rotating guest list makes for the best possible conversational possibilities.
Carlos had a brilliant idea for restaurant recycling, an especially critical issue since the city doesn't pick up commercial recycling.
His proposal was to work out an arrangement to use a couple of the city recycling trucks at off times once a week to collect restaurant recyclables, which would then be taken to one of the stations that process them.
Any proceeds from the abundance of glass and cardboard donated would go directly to the Central Virginia Food Bank.
As it is, many restaurateurs don't recycle because of the hassle of taking it to a site, so it sounds like a win/win situation (Portland or San Fran-like, even).
Thoughts from the peanut gallery?
My friend is dating someone, but tonight she has a date with someone else entirely, so we spent a fair amount of time discussing the male/female dynamic and how it plays out.
Carlos and I shared tales of marriage and our preference for being in a committed relationship rather than loose in the dating world.
Of course, there was a fair amount of finger-pointing at the opposite sex for the foibles that tangle us up in less-than-satisfactory relationships, but all in good fun.
Also on the table were the changes in 27's menu for the upcoming warm weather season. I was ecstatic to hear that he'll be adding the Bobo de Camarae, drooled over here, to his summer menu and, best of all, in an appetizer portion. Hallelujah!
This dish must be experienced and now anyone will have that opportunity to experience a true Brazilian dish with its African influences.
He told us about other Brazilian additions for the summer, but I'll leave you to discover them on your own.
I love that these dishes he usually only makes for his family are now available to the non-Brazilian masses (read: me).
Lest you think the abundance of wine limited us to only sex and restaurant talk, one of the most satisfying discussions of the afternoon was about the loss of childhood and the delay of the maturation process.
Not one of us could make an argument for the majority today having their act together by age 30.
How is it we have 12-year olds who are going on 25 and 28-year olds still trying to figure out life's basic requirements?
We didn't have an answer.
If I've made 27 sound like a great neighborhood joint where you'd want to hang out, it's because it is.
If you don't believe me, check out their Ste. Michelles Estates wine dinner next Thursday.
The last wine dinner I went to there was also five course (and the courses are generous, so pace yourself), presented by Bodegas Carrau (I'm still coveting my last bottle of the Tannat for a very special occasion) and this one is an even better deal.
It's only $55 and that's all-inclusive.
You will be full, you will be loopy and you will take food home. Just sayin'.
But I digress.
After a nearly four hour lunch, it occurred to my friend that she had a date to prepare for and, while my plans don't involve a date tonight, they do involve a music-loving friend, dinner, multiple bands and a meet-up with a favorite girlfriend afterwards.
Time to get cleaned up and exit the Ward for a while.
Should you care to check back, full report to come.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Wine Dinner at Bistro 27 Leads to....
...unbridled wine consumption, superior food offerings, fascinating conversation with wine geeks, wine sellers, catering types and Uruguayan winemaker as well as bourbon tasting for the out-of-towners afterwards.
The wine dinner tonight at 27 had many things to recommend it: the charming presence of Francisco Carrau of Bodegas Carrau, a menu that included, among other things, seared scallops. grilled stuffed quail and breaded pork tenderloin scallopini, sustainable and hand-harvested wines made by a family of ten-generation winemakers and a savvy crowd of wine geeks, sellers and buyers.
Portions were huge, pourings generous and the wine talk exceptional.
Chef Carlos did what many local chefs can't: spoke briefly about the food and wine pairings before the dinner started and then let us find out for ourselves what he intended to accomplish.
No between courses blustering about the upcoming dish or pairing.
Five courses made for a very full group by meal's end, but not too full to organize a party of winemaker, distributor, wine seller, chef and chosen few to trek down a block for an after dinner course of bourbon, tequila and digestifs.
Our honored guest, Uruguayan Francisco Carrau, was most curious about Kentucky bourbon, so we took him to Comfort to sample our country's best.
Three hours later, he seemed satisfied enough with his new-found knowledge of the array of American bourbon and even a little Virginia whiskey.
I was satisfied with an invitation to Uruguay to see first-hand South American wine county. Everybody was happy.
For you green types, Carrau vineyards boasts the highest sustainability index possible. For you foodies, Chef Carlos outdid himself with a menu of five perfectly paired courses.
For you stay-at-home types, you missed an evening of engaging conversation and all kinds of interesting personalities.
Wine highlight?
Bodegas Carrau Tannat Amat, a rich rustic wine with considerable tannins.
It was served with the scallopini with chimmichurri sauce and I requested it be poured again with the dark chocolate tart; the winemaker enthusiastically seconded my motion.
I had to order some for home as well; it was that good.
Uruguayan wine. Who knew?
The wine dinner tonight at 27 had many things to recommend it: the charming presence of Francisco Carrau of Bodegas Carrau, a menu that included, among other things, seared scallops. grilled stuffed quail and breaded pork tenderloin scallopini, sustainable and hand-harvested wines made by a family of ten-generation winemakers and a savvy crowd of wine geeks, sellers and buyers.
Portions were huge, pourings generous and the wine talk exceptional.
Chef Carlos did what many local chefs can't: spoke briefly about the food and wine pairings before the dinner started and then let us find out for ourselves what he intended to accomplish.
No between courses blustering about the upcoming dish or pairing.
Five courses made for a very full group by meal's end, but not too full to organize a party of winemaker, distributor, wine seller, chef and chosen few to trek down a block for an after dinner course of bourbon, tequila and digestifs.
Our honored guest, Uruguayan Francisco Carrau, was most curious about Kentucky bourbon, so we took him to Comfort to sample our country's best.
Three hours later, he seemed satisfied enough with his new-found knowledge of the array of American bourbon and even a little Virginia whiskey.
I was satisfied with an invitation to Uruguay to see first-hand South American wine county. Everybody was happy.
For you green types, Carrau vineyards boasts the highest sustainability index possible. For you foodies, Chef Carlos outdid himself with a menu of five perfectly paired courses.
For you stay-at-home types, you missed an evening of engaging conversation and all kinds of interesting personalities.
Wine highlight?
Bodegas Carrau Tannat Amat, a rich rustic wine with considerable tannins.
It was served with the scallopini with chimmichurri sauce and I requested it be poured again with the dark chocolate tart; the winemaker enthusiastically seconded my motion.
I had to order some for home as well; it was that good.
Uruguayan wine. Who knew?
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