Monday, September 26, 2011

The French Version of Juicing, part one


With my Number One Son practicing kung fu in China, Miss America spending time with her BF, and my Viva la France wine event completely ruined by Irene, I thought to myself, “Self, why not just hop a plane to France?”







So I packed a bag for my younger son Zazi (who is homeschooled - talk about a field trip!) and me, and off we went to rendezvous with my good friend Murph in “Gay Paree"

Paris was only one leg of this ten day excursion. The other was Burgundy, also known as The Golden Slopes (or, Côte d'Or pronounced coat door)


We flew Air France Business Class, which was such a treat. There was a time in my life when I couldn’t understand why anyone would pay that much money for a plane ticket - after all, we would all be arriving at the same time regardless of where we sat, right? I mean, really: how much better could it be?







The difference between flying Coach and Business is the same as driving a Pinto versus a Mercedes. (And, I hear that flying First Class is the airline industry’s version of driving a Maybach!)

While in transit, I interviewed one of the flight attendants to get the inside scoop. He said that for starters, the seats in First Class are larger and have better cushions. They also fully recline into a bed (hello!), the food and wine are of higher quality, and you can request your meal whenever you want as opposed to Business, where the only food options are a gourmet meal OR an express meal consisting of appetizer, cheese and dessert. Oh, and the TV screen is slightly larger.

Perhaps in a future blog I’ll be able to give you an actual account of a First Class experience. But for now I can share with you the varied pleasures of Business, and how my son and I giggled like yokels as we played with the buttons on our seats, pretended that our light was a microphone, and mistook our foot rest for the luggage compartment.



The food was more than just edible: it was downright tasty! Here’s a sampling of the choices: pan seared veal, scallops sautéed in olive oil and oven-roasted guinea hen. (Obviously, Daniel Boulud's staff is not cooking for Air France…)

On the other hand, the wines were…drinkable. I felt the same way about them as I would about someone who is not topping the list of fun folks to hang out with: you know, if nothing else was going on and they called...you get the idea. My inflight wine was the 2007 Chateau de Villambis Haut-Medoc .



Here's a bit of trivia for you: every year, Air France serves its passengers flying in La Première and Business Class 870,000 bottles of wine and over one million bottles of champagne. Air France is also the only airline to offer all its passengers free champagne on board its international, long-haul flights, even in the Voyageur* cabin. (*That’s Coach, by the way – everything sounds better in French, doesn’t it?)




There is also a station set up during each flight serving soda, wine, twelve year old scotch, cookies, fruit, and chocolate should you have a craving for something sweet in between watching movies on demand.


Yes, life can be pretty darn fine at 30,000 feet…

Side note: here are some travel tips I’ve learned from flight attendants over the years…first, drink plenty, and I mean plenty, of water, as the only thing drier than the air inside a plane is the Sahara. Pack a few more hydrating items for good measure: lip balm, hand and face creams, eye lubricants and even nasal spray. Now if you want to wake up refreshed by catching forty winks before landing, pop a couple of NyQuil capsules one hour after take-off. (After your doctor gives you the green light give those over-the-counter sleeping pills a pass, as they can make you dopey.)

And don’t forget to tuck away a nifty little eye mask, too. They’re so soothing, and I always get the best sleep when I use one. To keep the dreaded “puffy eyes” at bay, use Preparation H under your eyes a half an hour before landing. (A little dab’ll do ya.) Finally, change into something comfy like sweats as soon as the captain takes off the “Fasten Your Seat Belt” sign. Forty minutes before landing, wash up and change back into your good stuff – trust me, you'll feel so much better. (Do you have any travel tips to share? Send me your best advice, and I’ll send you a signature Have Fun Wine-ing with Grae eye mask!)

Our landing was right on schedule, but alas, our hotel rooms were not. Even worse, Murph's room wasn’t available until the following day, as the woman who had it prior became ill and couldn’t leave. The hotel did, however, put him up in one of their sister establishments.

The rooms at the Waldorf (obviously, our NY Waldorf didn’t trademark) were more like large linen closets, but since it was for just the one night, we braved it out.
The neighborhood was perfectly located for shopping, but the bistro we dined at that night was merely satisfactory... I know, I know, not the greatest choice of words, but fitting nonetheless. That's why I’m not bothering to share the name of the bistro with you. Unfortunately, it was NOT worth remembering. Besides, this was just a pit stop, as the next morning we were up, out and on our way to Beaune....




Au revoir, Paris!



PS: Stay tuned for The Golden Slopes!

Monday, September 12, 2011

Stevie's Dogs

How much do you love spontaneity? Especially when it involves NYC and wine?!


In a nanosecond, you can go from bored to excited.

Here it was, late Friday afternoon, with nothing planned except a date with Netflix. (Don't get me wrong - I love movies, and my routine has always been brush, bed and Blockbuster. Then Blockbuster closed, so I had to hop onto the Netflix bandwagon. The only issue I have with Netflix is that it offers too much of a good thing, including almost every TV series imaginable. For example, the show Grey’s Anatomy, whose title I find humorous for personal and obvious reasons. Problem with Grey's Anatomy is that instead of watching one episode, I watch three in a row - or even more - until my eyes begin to burn, it’s that darn curiosity wanting to know things like, how Meredith Grey will handle Mc Dreamy’s wife showing up? – I’m such a girl sometimes)


NY Vintners was having one of their Friday wine tastings, and Shane asked me to join him. (If you've never attended one, I highly recommend doing so, and not just because Shane is my WFF but because they happen to be really good! Seriously, check out Yelp if you’re looking for more endorsements.) Wine tastings are an economical way to try a bunch of wines, not to mention a great way to spend an evening. Just remember: All wine tasting are not alike. Some, if not most, can be quite dull and pompous (shocking, I know…)





So here I was, getting ready to leave for the Big Apple when I get an out-of-the-blue text message from my latest WFF, Amy (she's the one who introduced me to Tía Pol that wonderful, inexpensive tapas place on 9th Avenue), asking what I was doing this weekend. I quickly replied with an invitation to join me and Shane at NY Vintners, but first I had to pick up a bottle of Amarone in the Flatiron District that I wanted to try for my wine club (insert plug here). Being the good friend that she is, she offered to pick up the Amarone for me and meet me at NY Vintners. DATE ON!




The wines at NY Vintners that night were from Mount Eden, a winery in California. Chef Ryan prepared a complementary menu to go with each flight (although between you and me, I would have served the filet mignon with the cabs and the cheese course with the pinot instead the other way around). Still, it was daring of him to serve tongue. Kevin, the gentleman seated next to Shane, pointed out that as tasty a dish tongue is, it needs better PR. (Translation: a different name, the same way pancreas and stomach parts are known as “sweet breads.” Quite the spin, right?) Amy suggested La Langue, which is French for tongue. I just thought of a bunch of grammar school jokes while they were having this serious conversation about food titles.





Back to wine. The whites: Chardonnay Wolff Vineyard 2009 and Chardonnay Estate 2008 were the winners of the three flights and the only wines that I purchased. If these wines were guys and I was not in a relationship, I would have had a hard time picking which one I would make out with!



The Chard Wolff had that extra acidity that I enjoy, and if you're an oyster lover, search no further for a great hook up. The wolf, you, and that pearl loving creature is my kind of threesome!



The Chardonnay Estate was a bit heavier, like the guy with just the right amount of muscles (you know, the gymnast vs. the swimmer). It also had a more buttery note on the palate, so if you're into heavier whites that aren’t “oaky,” this is your baby. (For the record, I do not care for oaky wines, so if you're a big California oak-loving wine drinker, I'm not your girl.)



The pinots are not worth a mention. The cabs are, but not for the reasons you might think.



At the end of the dinner, I asked Shane to serve the hot dogs that he had been holding for me. That would be a whopping 20 pounds of hot dogs. And believe me, these aren’t just any hot dogs. These dogs are from that truck in Queens that has an exclusive with Sabrett’s (natural casing, extra garlic); the same hot dog truck that my late husband Steve took me to on one of our first dates; the same dogs that Steve smuggled into France to bring to the famous wine maker Chave, and that Robert Parker raved about; the same ones that I had Tru Restaurant in Chicago serve to all of the attendees at my first wine auction; the hot dogs I was going to serve in honor of Steve at my Viva la France wine event that Irene blew out. Those dogs.





So the lucky patrons at the NY Vintners tasting had the honor of eating what I now call “Stevie Dogs.” They were not only a hit with the clientele, but they also made the ho-hum cabernets that, before their arrival I merely tolerated, the way you do a distant relative who keeps talking about their son’s accomplishments ad nausea , into something wonderful. With the dogs by my side and the spirit of the “Wine HO” AKA Steve in the room, I actually welcomed the juice (in other words, the dogs made the wine come to life)! When a food makes a wine great, or vice versa, it’s a special moment – the kind of moment that, if you didn’t previously “get” the whole wine/food world, suddenly and absolutely changes that forever. If this sort of an experience doesn’t move you, give up, cause it ain’t ever gonna happen.





No Water, No Power, No Problem

The sky was dark and it was frighteningly quiet. Normally, waking up on Heather lane feels like a Disney movie: one would expect Snow White to be in the kitchen with the woodland creatures helping her tidy up the place. But Saturday was more Hitchcock than Disney: eerie and still, with the only sound heard being the periodic cry of a crow. That was it. You knew something was a-brewin'.





At 4am she hit. Waking up to winds howling and tree branches bending like blades of grass was, to be honest, more exciting than scary. But the excitement soon wore off as fatigue set in, so back to sleep we went.



Sunday, we were without electricity. Still, with our ice filled coolers, Rummikub set up for the evening's entertainment, wines safely being cooled via generator and a plethora of candles, we were content to be in the dark- well, at least for a night or two.

After breakfast we set out to see how our lovely town of Warren fared. Unfortunately, the answer was obvious: not so good.




Monday brought a new development to our humble abode: no water.
Okay, no power is one thing, but no water? The only sensible solution was to pack a bag and book a room for me and Zazi (my younger son) at the W New York Hotel. Times like these are when you get to pretend to be Eloise, everyone's favorite storybook city child!





(Side note: You know how when you're away from home for too long you miss your own bed? Well, that never happens at the W. I don't know if it's the mattresses or the whatever/ whenever service, or the combo of the two but all I can say is, WOW! Trust me, if Eloise had had a choice of where to live, she'd have skipped the Plaza and gone straight to the W in a New York minute!)


No sooner did my son and I arrive in the city that never sleeps than our social calendar became full.
On our first night, we headed to the US Open. Thank you, Ed!






On night number two, Zazi 's friend from the Island of Long came to town to hang with him. They bought tickets to go dancing at Pacha where our very own Jersey Boy, Pauly D, was the DJ. (You could not say this sentence with enough sarcasm if you tried, but try anyway.)


As for me, I headed downtown to a wine tasting hosted by Daily Food and Wine, met up with Valerie and her man, Rick, stayed a bit, and then headed to dinner at The National, a great bistro that's a stone's throw from the W NY Hotel.

I became a fixture at The National in record time: I had eaten lunch there on Monday, breakfast on Tuesday morning, and now I was headed back for dinner, and not because I had to but because I wanted to.

Valerie's friend, Valerie ( who from this point on will be referred to as Val 2) also joined in on this triple-play midtown dining experience. Now very familiar with the menu, I knew exactly what to order and which wines as well! Our waiter, Colin, was very helpful and almost as personable as Tracy, my lunch and breakfast server. (Tracy, by the way, designs T shirts so if you're in need of a dozen or so, give her a holler!)






(sous-vide)

Val 2 made a request for red wine, but I knew I wanted the Sauvignon Blanc with my bird.
This delectable chicken dish is prepared by a French method called sous- vide which means "under vacuum". But what exactly is sous-vide, you ask? Well, the chef cooks the bird in an airtight bag under water for up to three days at a low temperature. (Yes, three days!) The results? Unbelievably tender and juicy meat. I have to admit, after tasting this dish, it crossed my mind for a millisecond to cook my Thanksgiving turkey sous-vide.

Once again, Billy came to mind as I ordered a bottle of white and a bottle of red. Val 2 said it was not necessary to order two bottles, as we couldn't possibly finish them both. Oh, really? After the Beyond (great name for a wine, no?) and the 2004 Villadoria Nebbiolo were consumed, guess who was complaining that there was nothing to drink? I jest of course, but when the 3rd bottle arrived at the table, (a sexy 2001 Amarone) let's just say Val 2 didn't mind when the waiter filled her glass...


Thursday, September 8, 2011

Pre-Irene

What to do when disaster is on its way? Head for the city! NYC, to be exact. Storm or no storm, nothing will stand in the way of comrades who are in the midst of a food battle.

Once I battened down the hatches and filled the bathtub with water, there was nothing left on my checklist to do except meet up with my WFF Shane and trump his L’artusi with Ai Fiori, a well- staffed, semi-serious Italian restaurant in midtown that came highly recommended by my friend Tim Kopec. Usually I scope out a place myself before taking Shane, but this time I used a lifeline, A.K.A. Tim. (He’s not only a top NYC sommelier and bona fide foodie, but a bit of a chef, too!)

Arriving early at Ai Fiori gave me a chance to leisurely peruse the wine list and menu. What to order first was an easy decision: with Caprese Salad on the menu and tomatoes at their peak, what’s left to think about?

There is nothing like fresh tomatoes and mozzarella. Seriously, each bite is an explosion of happiness in the mouth. How could anyone not like tomatoes? The only possible explanation is that they must be one of those green house-eating tomato people...but that’s like saying you don't like pasta when all you've ever tasted are Spaghetti-Os! (Which reminds me of when I was eight years old: my friend Suzy's mother wanted me to feel “at home," so she made me - her daughter's “goy-friend” - pasta smothered in Heinz 57.)

As far as the juice, I ordered a bottle of white and a bottle of red (Billy Joel would have been proud). After spotting another interesting white, I ordered that, too. As you can see, I was pulling out all the stops.


While the wine steward opened the first bottle of white, Shane texted me to say that he was stuck in the tunnel and would be at least another 30 minutes late.


When he finally arrived, stressed out from staring at bumper stickers on the BQE, our latest Battle of the Dinners officially began.

(Side note from The World According to Grae: I never wait for anyone when it comes to anything longer than 10 minutes. This rule has served me well over the years, so know that if we’re going out to eat and you're late, I’ll already have started eating by the time you get to the restaurant. Similarly, if we're going out clubbing and you’re held up, know that you'll find me on the dance floor - not at the bar - possibly with newly made friends. By doing this I never get pissy with anyone for being tardy!)

(The girl leaning on the post would never be me!)


First Course (or as I like to call it during these food wars, Round One) was a double order of Caprese, as I was confident Shane would share the same sentiment about the dish as I. Even better, both whites were not only lovely accompaniments to our appetizers but also paired well with the pasta dishes on the way.

The 2009 Friulano Collio and the 2010 Giovanni Almondo were real winners; however, the 2010 Giovanni Almondo Roero Arneis white was exceptionally refreshing and a very easy wine to drink. You know, just like your best bud – someone who is easy to hang out with, and won’t get pissy if you're an hour and a half late for dinner ;)!



The pastas arrived, and my score was triumphantly soaring: Trofie Nero, with ligurian crustacean ragoût, seppia, scallops and spiced mollica; and Risotto made with riso acquarello, lobster, bone marrow, saffron and shellfish. Deelish!


And then the entrees came. Talk about missing the mark! Sadly, a complete FAIL! The 89’, (may not be the best vintage but is drinking great), Tignanello I ordered couldn’t even lend these dishes a comeback move. There was only one thing to do.... SEND BACK the entrees and order more pasta, and fast! But even the risotto with bone marrow, as good as it was, earned insufficient points to make this battle a Grae Win...sigh.


( Ai fiori's entrees are proof that looks can be deceiving )

Until next time Shane, remember: It ain’t over till the fat lady sings (and at the rate my diet is going, that could very well be me…)