He Says, She Says March 2007

Chuck says: These tapas recipes are messing with my focus, my friend! I feel my mind wandering off to memories of crowded Spanish taverns, standing beneath a half-dozen achingly beautiful (to me, at least) black-footed hams, my mouth watering as I elbow my way toward a glass of. . . .

Now, where was I? Because, if it’s San Sebastian, I’m reaching for a tumbler (really!) of Basque Txakoli (pronounced “CHOCK-oh-lee”) white wine to tickle my tongue in-between bites of this lovely, rustic salad. A little effervescent, tantalizingly tart, a sip of this and you’re sitting on the Basque coast of Spain. I just love the refreshing zapitude of this wine, and the way it gets your palate ready for the next delicious morsel heading your way. In this case, I’ve got a bite of that marinated tomato in mind, and Txakoli is the ideal set-up.

Now, I’ll be the first to admit, this is an obscure wine—if not an acquired taste—but it can be found in the States, so I feel at least minimally justified in mentioning it. And frankly, for this, I’m throwing this-goes-with-that, wine-matching politesse right out the window. Sometimes, you just have to go with a wine that, in tandem with the food, transports you to a different place and time. For me, this is it.

Ummm . . . I also feel OK recommending Txakoli because I have a hunch you’re about to mention some killer alternatives, just in case that elusive Basque bottle can’t be found. So how ‘bout it?

Wini says: Geek! Geek! Geek! Geek! Geek! Help—I can’t shut my geek-alarm off!

Txa-oh-WHAT?

Thank heavens I know what a good-natured goofball you can be about food and wine, Charles, other wise I’d be rolling my eyes and calling you something worse than a wine-geek for laying such an obscure wine on us.

I say, if you can find this Txakoli stuff, go for it.

If you can’t, take the easy way out: Sauvignon Blanc. Go for one from Chile, such as Veramonte. Unlike those bell-ringing SBs from New Zealand, most Chilean bottles will bring a nice acidity that meshes well with those tomatoes, but not so much zing that you’ll be zung out.

Tortilla Español

Chuck says: Still in Spain. Still happy about it. And, talk about signature dish! This is one of my favs—not only to eat, but to make, too. What to drink with it? Gotta stick with Spanish wine of course, and I’m going to suggest a white Rioja here.

Obviously better known for reds, Rioja produces a few stunning whites as well. A type that would be super with tortilla is a modern barrel-fermented style—the words “fermentado en Barrica” should appear on the label.

The best of these have just enough acidity to be refreshing but also feature understated toastiness and full, fleshy body. The key is that all of this has to be in laser-sharp balance. As for a specific wine, if I could get my hands on a bottle of Viña Real, that’s what I’d be drinking here.

Now, you want a dark horse? Not everyone loves ultra-traditional, aged white Rioja, but I sure do. These things take on a glorious, deep golden color as they age and show off some of the most beguiling caramely—almost cognac-like—aromas I’ve ever encountered. They also hit you with surprising acidity. There’s truly nothing else like ‘em. I’ll never forget tasting Lopez de Heredia’s Viña Tondonia 1987 Blanco Reserva in their eerie, cobweb-encrusted cellars in Haro—an otherworldly experience tasting a wine made exactly the same way, in the same place, for more than 150 years.

Wini says: I’m going to stick with Spain, too, and go with one of my favorite matches for eggs: sparkling wine. I’m a huge fan of that ubiquitous Cristalino Brut—the one with the classy gold label that belies its bargain-basement price (it’s usually under $10). Look for it at discount places like World Market. I love the way the Spaniards have made a toasty, refreshing, sophisticated sparkling wine in the same way the French make their fancy Champagnes, but at a fraction of the price. Double or triple the tapas recipes, chill down a bunch of bottles in the bathtub, and invite all your favorite people for casual bites at your place.

English-Style Lasagna

Chuck says: Well, we’re moving on from Spain, Wini, but my mouth’s still watering—all three lasagna versions look incredible! I’m not sure which one to make first, but for wine pairing, I think I’ll start with the English incarnation.

All of these lasagnas sport wickedly hearty, big and bold flavors that ache for red wine. For English-style, the Cheddar’s on my mind—in truth, that beef and Cheddar combo is causing me to think really BIG here. This will come as a surprise, but I’m leaning toward an American wine for this, quality California Cabernet.

Major caveat: I would hate an ultra-fruity version with this, wouldn’t you? I mean, the tubby, ill-defined, and sorta sugary Cabs that are almost like drinking soda pop. It’s not showy, but the refinement and restrained power of Sterling’s Napa Cab is what comes to mind as somehow right.

For Italian-style lasagna I’m not going to mince words—I want a solid, food-lovin’ Italian red and nothing else will do. I propose a Valpolicella, in a Classico or Superiore version. The added backbone and finesse of these versions over ordinary Valpolicella is what the dish deserves. Zenato’s Valpolicella Superiore is a really nice food wine that would make a great choice at a modest price.

For a bit more of a splurge, I can’t help but mention something I’d describe as sort of an “über Valpolicella” from the same region. That’s Allegrini’s Palazzo Della Torre—a combination of addictive intensity and food-friendliness that is all too rare. A really cool winemaking technique—ripasso—is used for this one.

Finally, I’m not going to break the string by recommending anything but a French wine to go with French-style lasagna. As you well know, I go weak at the knees any time there’s an opportunity to drink Bordeaux. This is one of those times. At the lower end of the price scale, even a modest wine like Mouton Cadet will offer a dose of elegance. Shelling out longer green, I’d consider staying in the same family (a branch of the Rothschilds), upgrading to Chateau d’Armailhac or Clerc Milon. A tip: although Clerc Milon can be pricey, the chateau produces excellent wine almost every year, even in lower-rated, less-expensive vintages—these bottles are sometimes (comparatively) a heckuva deal.

Wini says: I am so totally with you about those tubby, hit-you-over-the-head fruity California Cabs! Two words: BO-ring! The Sterling would work, though.

But just to offer another angle, let’s think about this: Lasagna serves a crowd, and when serving wines to a crowd, you want something cheap that a lot of people will like. And a lot of people like Merlot. Lately, I’ve been very impressed with what Italy does with Merlot at the low end of the price scale. Specifically: Bollini Trentino Merlot, at around $11 and Folonari Merlot Delle Venezie ($8). These aren’t the flimsy, barely-wine sips that can give Merlot a bad name, but nice, ripe-fruit wines with plenty of European oomph.

The Italian lasagna? I say “Si!” to Valpolicella—it’ll take me right to Brooklyn, where I once lived and fell in love with that wine (which my favorite corner restaurant kept a bit chilled, as it warmed up quickly in the warmth of the bustling dining room).

As for the French lasagna, I’m all with you on the Bordeaux, but again, if readers are serving a crowd and can’t find any of those “heckava deals” you mention, they can look towards the less-famous Pays d’Oc region for bargains. Fortant de France makes solid, drinkable Cabs and Merlots for about $8 a bottle; if you can’t find that label, just look for another wine from the “vin de pays d’oc”—I’ve had good luck finding good bottles at fair prices in this region.