Made by the Sea

Hey Everyone,

I was thinking today, that the very basic purpose of water is to maintain us in our pursuit of food.  As evolution has led us to find more elaborate combinations to the point where I can discuss whether or not Cabernet Franc from South Africa matches better with Lamb or Pork (as in this recent post) I have found that certain foods and indeed certain drinks just seem to work better with certain moments in our lives than others.  Theres nothing quite like an ice cream cone on a sunny day when you're feeling like being a kid for a bit.  Theres nothing like a  chocolate cake to make your birthday feel special and theres nothing like a nice glass of red wine by the fireside in the winter.

I love the idea of pairing an album of music with a glass of something which just plain works.  Imagine the mental satisfaction of that great album of complex sounds and tonal texture alongside a glass of complex flavours and layered intricacy.  It is a great feeling and the two sensations, of pleasures both musical and flavourful, coming together is really something to enjoy.

I can cite a few great parings.  Nearing perfection in pairing music and booze is a simple bottle of beer, may well be just a Sam Adams Boston Lager (or in my personal Pennsylvanian case, Yuengling Amber Lager) with "Blood on the Tracks" by Bob Dylan.  It's my favourite album by far.  I think it just feels great listening to it, with the weight of the musical talent from the local musicians Dylan had to get a hold of at the last minute and the raw lyrical beauty of Dylan, it all just works.  That considered, it is surprisingly simple, and I just love laying on a couch in silence listening to my dad's old pressing scratching away on the beautiful set-up he's put together in the attic.

I just love Bob Dylan and though he might not approve of a boozy drink with his music, I think he could at least appreciate the idea of pairing two significant things in ones life together like this.  For me, I love the craft of music.  It occupied most of my youth (there may still be a myspace page with my music up somewhere) and I am happy to say that it is still one of the most important things to me and I hold music very close to my heart indeed.  Put that next to the things in my professional interests today, in my early maturity, such as wine and beer, and I see that as the sum total of my passions and I think that is an idea that anyone can relate to.

Tonight however, I am making an interesting pairing.  I remember some very good friends of mine informing me of the magical and unlikely pairing of California Zinfandel and "Heatwave Doritos," and in a way tonight's pairing is similar but in the end, it does make sense.   I'm listening to a collection of songs by the Canadian musician Stan Rogers sipping a glass of my favourite whisky, Ardbeg "Uigeadail".  Sort of a Canadian Nick Drake, he died well before his time in a bizarre plane accident, he embodied the folk-voice of his country and may never truly get the credit he deserves outside of his genre-circle of musicians.

As the songs progress, they begin openly brazen and brisk and they are over all bold with his classic song Barrett's Privateers and the bright Watching the Apples Grow.  The whisky begins openly powerful and peaty with big smoky character to match the songs' strength.  With Barrett's Privateers, there is a hint of the old-school sea shanty which matches the maritime character of this malt as you can smell the sea spray, seaweed and the ropes of the rigging in the whisky.

It is brooding and stormy as well as deceptively balanced and matched with the haunting lament Maid on the Shore, which tells of the troubled life of a captain bound to the sea, fooled by a mysterious maid on the rocky shore.  The whisky develops as your nose gets used to the power and becomes sweet and subtle just as Stan's big baritone voice sings the heartbreaking ballad, Forty-Five Years and dedication of the long life he would never have to his beloved wife.

The finish is balanced and provides an encore for all the beauty of the malt which had previously taken the stage and the peat, smoke, tar and brown sugar take a final bow.   It all settles down beautifully into a balance, with Stan Rogers' requiem Northwest Passage, in which he considers his place in history giving his humble admirations to those brave adventurers in the great wilds of Canada's Northwestern Territories looking for the Passage, a way to solve the savage wild.  I do not believe anything created by man, even this beautiful dram of whisky, can match the natural bravery of the adventurous hearts which choose their destiny and gamble all on it as do the characters in the songs by this Canadian poet. But as I sit in my comfortable chair in my comfortable corner of Scotland in my comfortable place in the world, I can send my thoughts across the wide reaches of the world to those distant lands and those magnificent deeds of brave explorers.

I didn't expect the music to overwhelm me as it did.  I expected the whisky and the songs to match like rum and a couple of sea shanties, but it became so much more.  I sat down to have a dram of whisky with some folk songs and I have found my imagination drawn to places of amazing beauty and complexity.  Next time you have the chance to have a quiet evening in, try putting on an album you love and have a glass of something you love and see how it works together.  For me it was really very special.

Much Love,
G

Pizza and Wine

Hey Folks,

I know we always hear about the ongoing search for foods and wines to match each other and produce winning teams of balanced flavour.  We hear of the surprising matches between Chinese food and Gewürztraminer, where the floral, spicy profile in the wine matches the intense, concentrated flavours of the Chinese sauces, as well as Riesling and pad thai. but I am tonight enjoying a wonderful paring on a bit of a budget.  Pizza for £3 and a bottle of wine for £7.99.

After a long day working in the shop, slowly recovering form a sinus cold and the aches and pains of a 14-hour day traveling to and from a trade-tasting in Manchester, I was feeling rather exhausted.  I just wanted to sit down, have something simple to eat, something relaxing and simple to drink and perhaps write a note to my readers.  In the divine scheme of things, my plans seem to have worked out and here I am, with a nice, hot cheese pizza and a glass of wine which I consider nearly perfect for the occasion.

Simple, inexpensive and satisfying.

It's a Biferno 2007 Rosso Riserva  from Camillo de Lellis, and it's making me lower the bottom end of my 'Sweet Spot' from £9 to £7.  Composed of Montepulciano, Trebbiano Toscano and Aglianico, essentially whatever grapes come to hand in the Tuscan countryside, it's a part of that class of inexpensive wines which I love so much.  The fact that the wine is cheap has nothing to do with low quality.  It is because the grapes grow so naturally and easily there and require so little labour, and the vines look after themselves pretty well.

It's simple, it's rustic and it has all those aromas and flavours of sour cherries and perfume which defines good, classic Italian wines.  As I consider this wine, I think about all those wines meant to imitate the long-lived high end Bordeaux, made with international grape varieties blended with native grapes, and part of me wonders why bother?

Of course, it is natural that a wine maker would want their art to achieve the highest level possible, and to produce something long-lived, with the ability to develop complexity and become a work of art that only time can create.  However, it should never be deemed to be a superior style of wine.  The blend of grapes here shows that the origins of this Biferno are in the soil and the native grapes grown since the Etruscan era.  It harkens back to the days when a wine maker could have cared less about what the names of the grapes were that went into his blend, so long as it came out right.  It was an organic process and one that developed over centuries and perfected itself, with the human element only complimenting, never dominating.

As I sip it, and munch happily and greedily on my pizza, I reflect on my appreciation for the humility of certain wines.  As kith and kin to a farmer's brew of cider, it is perfect to pair with the simple pleasures of the Italian larder.  It makes me think of the satisfying life-style of the Italian peasants of another era sitting down in the evening hours on the hillside overlooking their fields and drinking from the wine skin.  For that reason, needing something to sit back and relax, this sort of wine does just the trick.

I highly recommend, for a truly satisfying, rehabilitating night in, find a friend, get a pizza, split a bottle of wine and just chill out.

Much Love,
G