If the Jura is Middle Earth, the Loir-et-Cher is surely Avalon. Louis/Dressner Selections held their annual fall tasting last week. Loir-et-Cher winemakers and supporters were present to pour and share phenomenal wines. The delightful Catherine Roussel poured her Clos Roche Blanche wines, while partner, Didier Barrouillet, remained at Avalon tending to still-fermenting wines. Each time I see Catherine I picture her barefoot, meandering through her property as she did when I went to visit her in 2003, when she spoke about her wines and the wild mushrooms that grow around her enchanted property.

Next to her was the pixie-ish Noella Morantin. Noella took over half of Clos Roche’s vineyards and is making her own wine with that fine fruit. Her Sauvignon Blanc ’08 was lovely with a hint if pepper, Menu Pineau ’08 was so aromatic and showed beautiful fruit, while the Cot was to die for; it was all crushed oyster shells and showed this quintessential violet juice character that this same grape shows when handled by Clos Roche Blanche. It’s terroir!

Thierry Puzelat was present. I was too shy to talk to him. It was like meeting David Bowie; I wouldn’t know what to say. His wines moved me as much as Ziggy Stardust, Hunky Dory and The Man Who Sold The World rolled into one. Each wine, in succession, exuded mineral, after mineral, after mineral. The Cheverny Rouge Rouillon was particularly amazing. “Pouille” (a gamay and grolleau blend) was pure and gritty and at $120 frontline it is an unbelievable bargain. Beautiful, beautiful.

Hervé Villemade offered a Pinot Noir (Cheverny Rouge Desiré) that is only made in certain years and strictly bottled in magnum. It was cloudy, prickly and reminded me of peonies and pea shoots. I could nab a bottle and sit on it with patience.

Beyond the Loire I ventured to Burgundy in the form of Pacalet, whose Pommard ’06 tasted like iodine and flowers and the Gevrey defied words, I simply wrote, “OMG so beautiful,” and the Chambolle Musigny 1er Cru showed hints of herbaceous chinotto-like character but on the palate it was tight and lean.

I have a soft spot for South Africans they are so close to Mauritius that I feel a certain sort of kin with them so I was delighted to meet Tom Lubbe, a South African who made his way north to the Rousillon to make wines that are clearly pure and balanced.

I could go on and on but I’m not going to. I leave on my journey to London and then Mauritius tomorrow. I am about to indulge in my last supper with Jim, a meal of steak and broccoli rabe. He so thoughtfully cooked the sort of food I love and has opened the Dom Bachelet Gevery Chambertin. I am drinking it now. It is a 2005 and shows the warmth of that vintage yet it has a mineral edge and good structure. I will miss Jim and I’ll miss his food – he shows me a lot of love in the kitchen.

I am going on a journey that will be painfully difficult. I don’t know if it is appropriate to blog about it but I might. I’ll write soon from Mauritius.

I nicked the title for this post from a friend who works in the industry. This is what she said when I broke news of my plans to travel to Jura and Paris. Middle Earth was a dream on the west side of the mountains that separate the French Jura from Switzerland. Sloped vines of Chardonnay, Savagnin, Pinot Noir, Ploussard and Trousseau were within arms distance of roaming cows, horses and sheep. It all seemed tangible. I could snip a bunch of Savagnin and pet a cow in the space of minutes.

Château Chalon was stunning, a mass of hill in the shadow of a terraced cliff bearing the tiny village of Chalone.

“I could almost live here,” I thought. And thought the same thing when I stood in the vineyards of Domaine de Montbourgeau, perched on a gentle hillside, a 360-degree turn revealed the five mountains that give this appellation its name.

Vigneron, Nicole Deriaux, was a treat. I’ve always thought this producer’s razor sharp Chardonnay was a steal and I was equally captivated by her oxidative Savagnin and the, hands down, best Crémant du Jura I had all week. It was dry, yeasty, lemony and bracing. I wanted to be alone at that point. I longed to sit down with her crémant and cry.

The day I left for the Jura my father was diagnosed with a brain tumor. I lived through the Jura as if I were going through the motions and yet the beauty of the region touched me. We don’t know if the tumor is cancerous. We know it is big – 9cm. The size of a small egg is pressing down on my dad’s brain and affecting his speech, his mobility and his mental grasp.

I will leave for Mauritius soon to be with my parents when the doctors operate. I will be sad, I will be strong; I’ll be the daughter they need. Life still continues, I will still drink honest wines that soothe and elate me and I will blog, but from here on, maybe with a tinge of sadness. More on producers in the Jura soon.

SELECTION PAS MAL

Two days after Alice’s champagne tasting, I descended upon the Selection Pas Mal champagne and Burgundy tasting (more about the Burg later). These were new discoveries for me and it was a case of too much good wine under one roof. Plus, we got to chat to the charming Becky Wasserman and witness the enduring moment when, son, Peter Wasserman got all embarrassed when he realized his mother was attentively listening to his enthused rap on of a Burgundy winemaker. OK, enough cuteness, back to the champers.

Jose Dhondt Blanc de Blanc Brut was sensationally chalky, the Mes Vielles Grand Cru 2002 was mineral, earthy and a tad funky, while the Rose Saignee was sooo pretty, wine-y and earthy. From what I gather Jose Dhondt is an RM producer, he emphasizes low yields, hand picks, ferments and elevage in tank.

Vazart-Coquart is located in Chouilly. They have a lot of old stocks and add very little dosage to their champagne. Brut Reserve Blanc de Blanc Grand Cru is a focused wine, bone dry, chalky and delicious. Bouteille Club 2002 Grand Cru had a super yeasty nose and was quite full and sumptuous on the palate. It was aged on the lees for 7 years before disgorging.

Bernard Giradin has been making champagne since the 1950s and his daughter, Sandrine, has taken over the winemaking. The Vintage Brut 2002 is truly beautiful. My note: “intense, full, Krug-like, I-like.” [I refer to Krug before they went commercial]

Bernard Bremont is based in the grand cru village of Ambonnay. His Brut Grand Cru was funky, cheesy and lees-y, the Cuvee Prestige Grand Cru was stunning – earthy, complex, had beautiful fruit, like a Burgundy with bubbles.

Jacques Picard (based in the Berru village of Montaigne de Reims) was a major discovery for me. This family run domaine does partial vinification in oak. Their Brut Cru is INCREDIBLE. I could taste the damn minerals from the soil – it was like iodine. Art de Vigne 2001 was slightly oxidized, showed tremendous yeast autolysis, it was intense and had such beautiful acidity. I was wowed.

I may no longer drink champers tous le dimanche but merely recalling the spine tingling Selosse Substance and Picard Art de Vigne on Sunday afternoons is enough, for now.

When Jim and I were going through our honeymoon period we had a champagne Sunday ritual. We’d purchase different bottles of champagne on our Astor Wines employee discount and lie in bed for the better part of the day drinking bubbles. Some bottles made repeat visits, like Krug (this was almost eleven years ago) and Jacquesson. That was when we could afford the stuff. Over the years, our champagne consumption has gradually diminished but I still love the stuff.

When Alice Feiring told me she was working on a champagne piece for the Wall Street Journal, and said she was thinking of having a tasting at her place, I immediately volunteered participation. Alice’s soirees are always good fun. And to top it all she was pouring Selosse!

It was a fun group tasting. There was Peter who drinks champagne tous le jour IN Champagne, Brooklyn Guy who was getting to taste Selosse Substance twice in a week, Lee Campbell of Louis/Dressner Selections and the famous Honey Sugar, Alice’s long time friend and character in the Battle for Wine and Love.

We tasted the wines blind. The stunner, by far was the Selosse Substance. I LOVE old, oxidized champagne. Substance is made in a solera system (!) from old stocks ranging from ’86 to ’02. It was rich and so beautifully evolved, the oxidative quality was perfect. It was perfection, in an imperfect way. The bottle costs 260 bucks. Will I ever drink this champagne again?

More highlights: Salon Les Mesnil 1997 tasted like crushed oyster shells – loved it. Raymond Boulard NV rose was pretty and graceful. Bollinger NV definitely got me excited. This bottle had a bit of VA, which made me love it even more but it also had gusto and originality. Alice still has my notes but I’ll get them back and report on the other wines. Meanwhile, Alice says it best here.

Autumn was in the air. There was a nip to the breeze and Labor Day was closing in. The day was September 2nd and it marked the beginning of trade-tasting season frenzy and what an auspicious start it was at the Jenny & Francois Selections tasting.

I tasted, almost, everything. Among the usually brilliant Claude Courtois (he offers one of the best Sauvignon Blancs I’ve ever had), Plageoles (love that funky-monkey sparkling Mauzac), Tournelle (the Ploussard ‘04 was stunning, mushroomy, earthy and whispered umami), Olivier Cousin (his Grolleau is the definition of earth and purity of fruit), Binner (whose wines are aromatic without being big and perfume-y), Guillot-Broux (whose Gamay is amazingly nervy and mineral) Herve Souhaut (those reds are too beautiful) and Loup Blanc (wines that are generous, sumptuous and taste of place) there were new additions to the portfolio worth getting just as excited over.

There are more sharp, chalky champagnes from Jacques Lessaigne. Joining the Brut Blanc de Blancs NV (my go-to NV champers) there is the Millesime 2002, which has a smidgen of Pinot Noir (6%) and offers an earthier, floral element compared to the Blance de Blanc. Le Cotet is made from a smaller parcel of 40 + year old vines. It was wonderfully weird, earthy and mineral. Colline Inspire is aged in barrel and you can tell. It wasn’t overty woody but I associate Lessaigne with such astute mineral that I found myself instinctively disappointed.

Another newcomer to J&F’s book is the lovely, floral (almost Cru Beauj-like) Mortier St. Nicolas de Bourgeil and it’s a steal too at $163 frontline.

J&F are gently expanding into Italy and Spain. The most memorable bottle at the table was the Colombaia Chianti ’07 – a pretty wine with good structure.

After tasting all this and more I took my stained tongue and near-black teeth to Abraco for a much needed café cortado. It’s all in a day’s work.

My mother used to shop at Brixton market a couple of times a week for Indian and Caribbean food supplies that she wasn’t able to find in Balham. Years later the same neighborhood became my nightlife outlet (The Dogstar and The Fridge for after-hours), now I visit Brixton whenever I’m in London and the memories come flooding.

I recall this cute little restaurant (if you can call it that – it had about 3 tables on premises) housed in Market Row, one of the many shopping arcades in the neighborhood that made decent pizza. The owner vacated the premises and an Italian from Naples moved in and set up shop. His name is not Franco – Franco Manca means Franco is gone…a reference to the previous owner.

Now, nestled among African fabric shops and stalls selling plantains and yucca, there is a line of Guardian-reading Brixtonites and gastronomes from all over London (and further) salivating for a bite of sourdough pizza with the most minimal of toppings. Some say it’s the best pizza in Britain.

Jim and I shared a basic mozzarella, tomato and house-cured ham pie.

I’m no pizza expert but I can say that I really enjoyed the weight and texture (not too thin and nowhere near thick) and tang of the dough. The menu consists of about six different bare-bones pizzas and you can either drink water, lemonade, a choice of one organic beer or house red or house white.

I opted for the house white, served at room temperature in a small glass tumbler. All I could muster is that it was a Cortese (probably from around Piedmont) and is sourced and bottled by Wild Caper, a cute little deli across the way in Market Row, also owned by Franco Manca proprietor and pizza man, Giuseppe Mascoli. The label indicated the lemony-tasting vino was low in sulphites and at something like £1.75 a glass it was one of the most palatable bargains I’ve had. The bottle sells at Wild Caper for about five quid and it blows the supermarket shit (at the same price) that most Britons drink out of the water.

Mr. Mascoli must have a good sense humour too. Check out the wall art. Another memory I have of growing up the the UK are the Thatcher years…but let’s not go there, shall we?

Nevia, arguably one of the best of farmer’s market stands (we like Rick Bishop too) in NY is currently offering pementos de padron. I rejoiced and I purchased. About twenty peppers into a plate of freshly sautéed goodness I got a hot one. Bingo!

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A few months back, my shellfish allergy meant copious amounts of padron peppers in lieu of crustaceans during a trip to Rias Baixas. I couldn’t get enough of the piquant, vitamin c-charged capsicums at the time. And now I can get them from my local farmer’s market. This makes me exceedingly happy. I experienced a rush when I made my transaction.

It’s summer time in New York. Summer is when my personal chef (and husband) shines. Today’s menu is a locavore’s feast. We procured a slab of flank steak from a new butcher’s shop in the Chelsea Market. Not yet fully opened, Dickson’s Farmstand Meats was offering a peek preview of beef from two different farms. One raises strictly grass-fed cows, while the other feeds his cattle with a mix of grass and grain. We opted for the former. Jim marinated and grilled the meat with garlic scapes, made his summer specialty succotash (corn with some bloody expensive fava beans) and a light cucumber and tomato salad. The steak was as lean as grass fed beef usually is but filled with immense flavor.

The wine to top it all off was a Thierry Puzelat KO rosé. Get a load of the mouth-watering condensation on the bottle.

In the natural wine world, Puzelat is what Kurt Cobain was to grunge. He defines low-interventionist wine and I’m a groupie, along with about half of Tokyo from what I hear. The KO rosé is juicy and fruit-forward with a peppery finish and has that just-fermented, from-the-tank kind of quality. It’s $13.99 and you should get a case of it. C’est l’été enfin.

I discovered Jose Pastor about three or four years ago when Bowler first started distributing the Vinos and Gourmet portfolio. I recall going to the tasting and walking by his table, which had little more than twenty bottles lined up and ready for the pour. I walked by, thinking this must be a bunch of high alcohol, high extracted fruit bombs because I hadn’t heard of the producers and as far as I was concerned,  if it wasn’t a Txacoli, Godello or a Lopez de Heredia, the wines probably weren’t worth looking into. I was wrong.

I approached Jose Pastor because the Burgundy and Peter Weygandt’s tables were crowded. The first wine Jose poured for me was a cava. I was blown away. I don’t think he carries that particular wine anymore but it was my first peek into real wines from a country that has had an unfortunate mega makeover in favor of modern technique and Parker-friendly points (the Priorat complex is what my husband calls it). Like the kind of makeovers you see on the Tyra Banks Show, when the chick in the jeans with the mousy hair looked way better than the pencil skirted, stiletto-perched, blonde highlighted aftermath, much of Spain had temporarily turned itself into a monster. Thankfully the pendulum is swinging back.

I continued to taste more of Pastor’s imports (under the name of Vinos and Gourmet) and I realized this guy was doing something really brilliant. He was sourcing wines from Spain that aren’t spoofed. Since those early days Jose has become a rising star among real wine followers.

Pastor and David Bowler (the NY distributor for Pastor’s wines) flew in a bunch of Spanish winemakers and set up an excellent tasting last month. Here’s what I loved.

Aforado Albarino was so deliciously mineral and focused. The Forja de Salnes Albarino slapped me across the face with its lemony, fresh and zingy tastes, while the same producer’s reds (a Caino and Loureiro) are elegant and show gritty mineral and balance.

Terres de Leon’s Preito Picudo Rosado is a juicy vin de soif. And I thought I didn’t like Bierzo – the trendy darling of the conventional wine industry a few years ago but Pastor proved me wrong – again! Peique makes old vines (45-80 Y.O.) Mencia wines that show distinct, funky-barnyard character.

Ribera Sacra, a region recently written about by Eric Asimov in the Times, gets to shine in Enologia Temera’s wines: Alodio and Themera (both 100% Mencia). These two wines really reminded me of the Loire. Another Ribera Sacra producer, Guimaro, makes a white wine blend (Godello and Treixadura) that is incredibly aromatic and he grows and vinifies Mencia too – juicy and herbaceous Mencia wines.

The biggest shock of the day was wine from Lanzarote in the Canary Islands. I associate this part of Spain with the lobster red British tourists that flock there for their cheap, package deal vacations. Los Bermejos, has vines planted in the craziest land I’ve ever seen. Pastor showed me images of what looks like fine yet arid black [volcanic] soil dotted with large craters. Mars? Nah, it’s Lanzarote! The Bermejo Malvasia was fresh, pretty and aromatic, the Bermejo Diego was funky, unusual, earthy and backed up by excellent acidity. Finally the Bermejo Tinto had a slight prickle, a lot of fruit and a somewhat intriguing rubber whiff – in a good way.

I have a soft spot for oxidative winemaking. Primitivo Quilles really rocked my boat. Their wines are made from 100% Monastrell and they have been called the Lopez de Heredia of the south, in the sense that their wines are made in an old-school style.He is one of the few producers that still makes a Fondillon Solera. This is an oxidized, solera-aged and blended red that has not been fortified. It was like sherry but without the heat. Very savory – makes fruit seem so overrated.

Tipping to the far north of Spain, in Asturias, the Monasterio de Corias wines were brilliant. The vines are old and planted in slate soils. All the wines are a blend of native grapes: Carrasquin, Verdejo and Mencia. They are natural too. The ’08 Joven was earthy, a bit funky, herbaceous and had lovely acidity. ’06 Monasterio was really amazing and reminded me of Burgundy only more approachable. Corias Guilfa ’06 was beautiful, unique and showed purity of fruit.

If you thought Spain had become this modern winemaking machine, I urge you to taste some Vinos and Gourmet.

I just returned from the epic party that is Tales of the Cocktail, which took place in my favorite US city (next to New York of course), New Orleans. While in NOLA my post for 31 Days of Natural Wine ran. The brainchild of Cory Cartwright, 31 Days is an offshoot of his regular year-old blog, Saignee. Cartwright invited a bunch shakers and makers to contribute to the site. Be sure to read Guilhaume Gerard’s frankly dogmatic manifesto, Joseph di Blasi on Frank Cornelissen in Sicily, Lyle Fass on natural in Germany, Joe Manekin on Spain, Brooklyn Guy on Bernard Baudry’s Rose and my dear friend Alice Feiring talks about her Muscadet moment in Paris. There’s tons more that worth the read (Peter Liem and Jeremy Parzen for sure) but I couldn’t mention them all now, could I?

I humbly asked if I could join in on the communal rant, rejoice and sharing of natural wines and Cory kindly had me aboard. Here is my post on Jean Paul Brun (of Torres Dorres).

More to come on NOLA in a day or two.

Biryani, round two, was an absolute success! May and Duane scoffed the aromatic, spicy repast and reaped the leftovers. I declare biryani a crowd-pleasing, fail-safe dish. Hell even the NY Times wrote about it today. I sense a biryani zeitgeist. Jim is toying with the idea of opening a wine bar; I told him he must offer a small plate of biryani cooked by yours truly. I guarantee an instant success.

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Speaking of wine. May Matta holds a WSET diploma, teaches wine classes at the International Wine Center in New York, is the US brand ambassador for Armagnac and does graphic design for wine shops, wine labels. She is a very talented [married] hottie.  I told her that I was bringing the 2001 Tissot Savagnin to drink with the meal and so she headed to Astor to pick a wine for before din-din. Her choice was pure brilliance and fit in with the Jura theme -  Dom. de Montbourgeau Crémant de Jura ($20.99). Talk about lemony. This is fizz that tastes as if someone squeezed half a fresh lemon into it with, as May said, a touch of chalk. It was salivating, focused and woke my palate the hell up.

As for the Tissot, it was beautifully oxidized – you can see in these photos that it was the color of dehydrated pee and I can confirm that oxidative-style wines are really good with Indian spices.

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On the other hand the Lemasson Poivre et Sel [$18 from Blue Angel Wines] got a bit lost next to the spicy chow but what a gorgeous, cloudy, funky, floral, bloody-iodine, mineral bottle of a wine it is.