Tag: Food & Drink

After 30 years, the annual Governor’s Cup competition, which pits Virginia wine against Virginia wine, got an overhaul, making it what the Virginia Wineries Association calls “one of the most stringent competitions in the U.S.” Improvements were made on every front—from the quality of the entries to the quality of the judges—and in February at the Virginia Wine Expo in Richmond, a caseful of gold medalists were chosen. First time enterer Glen Manor won the cup.

Leading the competition’s judging was Jay Youmans, a Master of Wine (one of only 31 in the nation) who owns a wine academy in the Washington, D.C. area. He recruited a panel of 30 other card-carrying wine professionals to blindly taste the hundreds of hopefuls in a two-day preliminary round. More than 400 wines were entered by 109 of our 210 wineries. Each entry had to come with an affidavit certifying that it was made with 100 percent Virginia fruit as well as information on vineyard specifics, grower names and locations, alcohol levels, pH (see Winespeak 101), and residual sugar. These are substantially stricter standards than in years past and may, perhaps, speak to why nearly half of our state’s producers sat this first year out.

Judges used a 100-point scale to score the 420 entries and 137 wines advanced to the final round—exceededing the organizers’ target of 120. Fifteen judges scored the 137, scribbling down notes on appearance, aroma, flavor, overall quality, and commercial suitability that would later get passed along to the wineries (a draw that encouraged participation in itself). At the end of three days (Youmans addressed the palate-fatigue flaw of wine competitions by spreading the tasting out so that no judge tasted more than 50 wines in a day), 13 won gold medals, 139 silver, and 215 bronze. So 87 percent of entries walked away with some bling. Youmans, who’s tasted and judged competitions around the globe for 30 years, said, “I can speak to quality on a global scale and this wine stacks up really well.”

What does a case of winners look like then? It’s more red than white (nine to three), more Monticello AVA than anywhere else (eight of 12), and more vintage 2010 than ’07, ’08, or ’09 (six of 12). Among the whites sits one sparkler, the 2008 Trump Winery/Kluge SP Blanc de Blanc, which one judge called a “dead ringer for champagne.” Surprisingly, it’s a white blend from Tarara Winery and a Gewürztraminer from White Hall that rep the whites, rather than Virginia’s recently-named state grape, Viognier. Virginia Tech enology professor Bruce Zoecklein, reckons 2010’s heat made for a bad Viognier year.

Similarly with the reds, Cabernet Franc, a grape so often favored for Virginia soils, only takes up one of the slots in the case—Jefferson Vineyards’ from 2010. Petit Verdot made a distinct impression on out-of-state judges who aren’t used to seeing the grape in a starring role. No single varietal of Petit Verdot won though. Rather, Meritage, America’s proprietary name for a Bordeaux-style blend, fills five holes, one of which belongs to the big winner. These blends from Delfosse Vineyards, Glen Manor Vineyards, King Family Vineyards, Potomac Point Winery, and Veritas Winery all contain varying proportions of the five allowable grapes (Cab Franc, Cab Sauv, Malbec, Merlot, and Petit Verdot). Cup winner Glen Manor’s is Cab Sauv heavy while the others are dominated by Merlot. Stephen Barnard, winemaker at Keswick Vineyards whose 100 percent Cabernet Sauvignon from 2009 and 100 percent Merlot from 2010 both earned spots in the case, thinks that Virginia Merlot “will play a positive role in the future.”

This cream of Virginia’s crop will be sent to wine publications, wine journalists, and other wine competitions in an effort to create awareness, visibility, and credibility for our burgeoning brand. “This competition was a real eye-opener for everyone involved. It’s raised the bar for what’s going on in this state,” said Youmans. That’s one persuasive case.
Prices for the bottles in the case range from $19.99 to $75 with an average price of about $35. The winning wines from Keswick and Veritas have not yet been released, but the others can be found at the respective wineries or at your favorite local retailer.

Our colonial cradle
Virginia wines took a trip across the pond last month where two dozen award-winners from Central Virginia, Northern Virginia, and Hampton Roads were poured at the 2012 London International Wine Fair. Half of the wines showcased came from five of our own Monticello AVA wineries: Barboursville Vineyards, King Family Vineyards, Veritas Winery, Virginia Wineworks, and White Hall Vineyards. This year’s fair celebrated the 250th anniversary of the American Wine Industry, which took root in Virginian soils when Charles Carter of Philip Carter Winery received a gold medal for his wines from the Royal Society of Arts in 1762, thus making them the first internationally recognized wines of colonial America.

WINESPEAK 101
pH (n.): A chemical measurement of acidity or alkalinity; the lower the pH the higher the acid. In wine, pH ranges from 2.9 to 4.

Chefs and bakers may have an elevated palate, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have a weakness for junk food and drinks—especially after a long night when gourmet is the last thing on their minds. Here are some of our finests’ dirty little secrets.

Ian Boden of Blue Light Grill: Corn chips with pump nacho cheese and Miller High Life

Brice Cunningham of Tempo: Almond Joys and a Coke

Mark Gresge of l’etoile: Funyuns Onion Flavored Rings and Steel Reserve tall boys

Justin Hershey of Zinc: Zatarain’s Jambalaya with Hickory Farms beef kielbasa and a Coke

Brian Jones of Petit Pois: Raw cookie dough and Country Time lemonade

Michael Keaveny of tavola: Ben & Jerry’s Milk & Cookies and Kelt Cognac

Tara Koenig of sweethaus: Two Double Stuf Oreos sandwiched together (thus, quadruple stuffed) and cans of Hawaiian Punch

Jeanette Peabody of Hamiltons’: Mint chip ice cream and salty dog cocktails

Jenny Peterson of Paradox Pastry: Classic Lays and fountain Diet Coke

Tomas Rahal of Mas Tapas: Blueberry spudnuts and Steaz green tea with mint

Charles Roumeliotes of Orzo: Almond M&Ms and Honest Tea

Tyler Teass of Clifton Inn: Riverside bacon cheeseburgers and Bud Light bottles

Angelo Vangelopoulos of Ivy Inn: Takis fuego-flavored corn chips from La Michoacana and Corona

Tucker Yoder of Clifton Inn: Pizza-flavored HotPockets and Pabst Blue Ribbon

What a chef wants
With everything from Afghani to Turkish already represented (and with pho and meatballs on the way), the chefs in our area eat way better than is typical for a small town, but that’s not to say that they’re completely satisfied. Here’s what they’re craving—and wishing that someone else would open.

Winner:
Neapolitan-style pizza (like 2Amys in Washington, D.C.)

Runners up:
Wine and cocktail bar with charcuterie
and cheese
Greek restaurant
Mussels with Belgian-style fries
New England-style clam shack

Chef’s day off
Orzo’s chef Bryan Szeliga and his wife moved here from Portland last summer, and while his days off are few and far between, he’s enjoyed eating and drinking his way around town. Here’s his ideal day of relaxation and consumption.

“First I’d walk to the Downtown Mall with my wife and dog to grab a caramel soy latte from Java Java. Then, we’d have brunch at l’etoile where I’d order the Virginia Ham Eggs Benedict. I’d make a brief stop at home to watch some college games. Then, my wife and I would ride bikes to Keswick Vineyard (I like their rosé) before heading back to the Mall for people-watching over Zocalo’s Black Bean and Corn Relleno. A quick swim in the pool would get my appetite going again and I’d hit Ariana for chickpeas and flatbread, then sports and a bourbon-barrel stout at Wild Wings. I’d cap off the night with vanilla and brownies at Arch’s.”

Someone with a 3,000-bottle wine cellar isn’t a likely candidate to also own a brewery, but last fall, Mary Wolf turned from Barolos to brewskis when she opened Wild Wolf Brewing Company on Route 151. She and her husband, Doug, had been Nellysford part-timers for 14 years until Doug retired from a software business in Northern Virginia and they permanently relocated. But it was their son Danny’s passion for homebrewing (discovered well before he was legal) that inspired this gig that’s shaped their lives into something bigger and better than they ever imagined.

The 10-acre brewery, biergarten, and restaurant grew from a mini-microbrewery and homebrew supply shop just a stone’s throw down the road, where Danny brewed 10 gallons at a time, testing out recipes, which sold out every two weeks. The hunt for an ideal location took years, but Mary kept returning to the 100-year-old landmarked building that served as Nelson County’s first high school from 1910 to 1939. “This is a high maintenance property. We found things we didn’t expect, but you can’t replicate the charm,” said Mary.

And charming it is. The biergarten is pretty as a picture and keeps true to its German roots by offering outdoor seating with gorgeous views, crushed gravel underfoot, a natural canopy of 60-year-old Siberian elm trees, lights strung overhead, and a pond with irises and koi. The old schoolhouse building houses the restaurant and kitchen and was modernized with a sports bar and a brewery building that holds a dozen 15-barrel tanks.

Back outside, a covered patio that’s heated and enclosed in the winter offers more outdoor seating options, and five tobacco barns being transformed into a shopping village will sell everything from homebrewing equipment to jewelry once completed in the next year or so. There’s live music Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, trivia on Tuesdays, and food specials the other nights, including summer holiday pig pickings, compliments of the new outdoor smoker and grill. A sculpture of a howling wolf (which will get painted with a different design every month) sitting amidst a pond with a water wheel serves as the brewery’s mascot, and the grassy field’s perfect for outdoor concerts, like the Oktoberfest planned for fall. It’s a happy and happening place for tourists and craft beer-lovers alike.

And Wild Wolf’s still expanding. Four 30-barrel tanks are on the way to accommodate growing demand. “I always knew we’d expand, but didn’t expect it to be within six months of opening,” said Mary. They opened with five beers and now with their rotation of seasonal brews, Danny, who studied brewing at Chicago’s Siebel Institute of Technology, regularly makes 10. “I am blown away by how many recipes Danny comes up with, and the beers are incredible. He’s like a gifted chef,” said Mary.

Because beer doesn’t depend on a yearly harvest the way wine does, they’re always in production mode, but keep their seasonal batches small. Their fall Howling Pumpkin, for instance, required hand-roasting 800 pounds of pumpkins just for six barrels, so when it was gone, it was gone. Making enough for the brewery (where you can order flights, 2 oz. tastes, 16 oz. or 20 oz. glasses, or 64 oz. refillable growlers to-go) and restaurants like Miller’s, Beer Run, Rapture, and Brixx Pizza, which regularly pour Wild Wolf brews, keep Danny plenty busy, but retail bottles are on a distant horizon.

A hoppy Imperial Wit with pear and honey that’s on the current menu and brewed on the premises with beer from Blue Mountain and Devils Backbone (the other two breweries on the Brew Ridge Trail), suggests that the local brewing biz is a collaborative one. “I want visitors to have a good experience at all three and believe that the more people we bring down the road, the better,” said Mary, who credits Nelson County’s “perfect” water with why the area’s had such success with beer.

While Danny splits his days between brewing and selling his brand from the road, Doug (who built the restaurant’s tables and bar) keeps the acreage looking sharp with his new tractor, and Mary gives regular tours of the property. At the end of a long day, she sits down to enjoy what her family’s created, and over a glass of her favorite Blonde Hunny Ale laughs at the irony of her stymied wine cellar, “Of course, now that I can get a great price on wine, I’ve absolutely fallen in love with craft beer.”

There’s not much cuter than a row of tiny peas in their pods and these springy spheres taste as sweet as they look. Plus, as both a vegetable and a legume, peas contain a host of vitamins and minerals and are high in protein and fiber, yet more easily digested than their bean-ier cousins. Here are a half dozen restaurant dishes that will make you say “yes, peas!”

Commonwealth Restaurant & Skybar (top) has updated the mint jelly with lamb combination by serving its grilled lamb chops with minted smashed peas and a lavender-scented jus.

Of course there are peas on the menu at Petit Pois (middle), but instead of the little guys being on their own, they’ve joined forces to become one sweet soup. Served chilled, it’s topped with a swirl of crème fraiche, shaved radish, and a chiffonade of mint.

The spring salad at Feast! (bottom) combines sugar snap peas with radishes, asparagus, sliced eggs, spring herbs, French feta, and mixed greens. Dressed in the house Greek goddess dressing, it’s a seasonal salad worthy of worship.

The Silver Thatch Inn fills its appetizer of pillowy housemade ravioli with fresh peas and tangy chevre before gently coating it in a spring onion cream sauce.

At Himalayan Fusion, peas play a starring role in the matar paneer—sweet peas and cubed Indian cheese simmered long and low in a creamy, spiced tomato-based sauce that’s perfect over rice and for swiping up with naan.

At tavola, a spring pea risotto with pea shoots shares a plate with a half-chicken from Timbercreek Organics that’s roasted until crispy.

Pass the pods and shoots

We eat both the insides and outsides of the flat snow pea pod and the cylindrical sugar snap pea before the pod reaches maturity, so in French, they’re known as mange-tout, meaning “eat all.”

Pea shoots, the young leaves of the traditional garden pea plant, are tender, string-free, and bursting with pea flavor. Grown locally by Planet Earth Diversified, find them at the City Market or online at shop.planetearthdiversified.com and pile them atop a sandwich or mix them into salads, pastas, and risottos.

Peas and thank you

If you have a tight-lipped toddler when it comes to all foods green, try a dose of reverse psychology. In Little Pea, a book written by Amy Krouse Rosenthal and Jen Corace, a wee pea puts up a fight about eating his five pieces of candy (because that’s what you have to eat for dinner every night when you’re a pea) until he’s promised his favorite for dessert—spinach!

Peas be with you

Peas almost always get a mention during a tour of Monticello, because there’s a pile of them encased in glass in the historical home. Among the hundreds of vegetables in Jefferson’s garden, the English pea was his favorite. He grew 15 types, staggering their planting in order to stay in peas from mid-May through mid-July. He made happy entries in his Garden Book, noting when “peas come to table,” and participated in an annual neighborhood contest in which the farmer who brought the first peas of spring to the table hosted a dinner for the others. Neighbor George Divers consistently won, and even in 1816 when Jefferson did, in fact, grow the first pea, he didn’t let on for the sake of his friend’s pride.

It’s that glorious time of year when the shelves of wine shops start to blush, giving drinkers an option beyond the usual bipartisan selection. But within the dozens of rosés that blossom between Easter and Labor Day, there’s a spectrum of colors and styles that vary as widely as whites do from reds. Since this weekend marks the start to summer—the season when hunks of meat begin sizzling on grills across the nation—I’ll set aside my preference for barely-there, salmon-colored rosés to focus on the beefier versions that refresh like a white, but satisfy like a red.

First, a reminder of how rosés are made and what gives them their different shades of pink. There are three main ways to produce rosé wine: saignée, blending, and skin contact.
For rosé wines that are a by-product, producers employ the saignée (French for “bleeding”) method in which a portion of red grape juice is bled off after only a short period of contact with the skins. The pink juice gets fermented separately now, though historically it was either thrown away or bottled up for the labor’s weekly ration. The juice still left in the vat continues its fermentation becoming a more deeply-colored, higher-quality red wine since bleeding off increases the skin-to-juice ratio.

Blending, or simply mixing red wine with white wine, is only common in the privacy of our homes or in Champagne (where it or the saignée method are used to make pink bubbly), and is frowned upon and even outlawed elsewhere.

Producers making rosé as a primary product use skin contact or maceration to impart color and tannin to the wine in varying levels of intensity. After crushing dark-skinned grapes, the juice and skins remain in contact (often in a cold soak) for one to three days before the must (see Winespeak 101) gets pressed and the skins discarded. The longer the maceration period, the darker the rosé and the more tannic (astringent) the flavor.

Some of the meatiest rosés come from Tavel, an area of sun-drenched vineyards in France’s Rhône, which counts as the first and only rosé-exclusive AOC. With a minimum alcohol content of 11 percent and an upper limit of 13.5 percent, Tavel can even benefit from some aging. It’s made by saignée after about 10 to 36 hours of skin contact, but many producers will do two bleeds and then blend the lighter must with the darker must for a more powerful result. The wine’s dark and spicy grapes—grenache, cinsault, syrah, and mourvèdre—along with the region’s searing heat, protective mistral winds, and rocky terroir also contribute to its vigor. Many argue that Tavel’s too complex a wine to be relegated simply to summer, and I agree, but served cold, with its flavor of pepper and berries, you’ve got one happy buddy for your burger off the barbie.

Other grapes that lend their curves to full-bodied rosés are cabernet franc and merlot, both of which grow well here in Virginia. They’re grapes that walk that line between fruity and woodsy, so your juicy currants and cranberries get amped up with a hit of cedar and smoke—perfect for the char on a slab of ribs or the blackened blister on a hot dog. France’s Loire Valley makes cabernet franc-based rosés in the Chinon region that deliver enough bright raspberry flavor to partner the salads on your plate, but enough herbacious spice to go with your chicken kebabs.

In Italy, nebbiolo—that king of grapes from Piemonte that makes the region’s tony Barolo and Barbaresco wines—makes a rosé with enough oomph to be a cooperative cohort with everything from pesto-rubbed salmon to BBQ pork. Spain’s garnacha or tempranillo-based rosés are agreeable amigos for carne asada or chile-rubbed shrimp. Even pinot noir, which is generally known for its restraint, makes bold rosés, especially in California, where lots of sunshine translates into ripe cherry flavors and plenty of alcohol—a winning combination at any outdoor barbeque.

You get the picture. You can still channel your inner neanderthal and drink pink wine. Or, as Washington State rosé producers Charles & Charles cleverly published on bumper stickers used to market their own watermelon cooler of a wine: “Yes, you can drink rosé and still be badass.”

WINESPEAK 101
Must (n.): Freshly pressed grape juice that contains the skins, seeds, and stems of the fruit (or pomace). Making must is the first step in winemaking.

As the economy limps along, restaurant trends embrace informality with a shift from the stationary to the mobile. In 2011, the food truck business exploded, with owners in search of more flexibility and less overhead. 2012’s the year of the pop-up—a temporary eatery that gives chefs or restaurateurs a chance to dip their toes into restaurant waters without cannonballing straight into a lease and all that comes with it. Here, chefs are popping up in different setting (or trying out new concepts in the same settings) to the delight of discerning foodies all over town.

Back in December, Ten’s Pei Chang and a group of chef buddies blew off some creative steam in a one-night-only pop-up called Handsome Boy Noodles. There were no reservations, but with word-of-mouth and social media (the free buzz-generator that makes pop-ups possible), they fed 350 people in five hours. The menu—pho, ramen, spicy chinese noodles, banh mi, dumplings, pork belly buns—was priced where everyone could afford it and the chefs got a new playground for the evening. Roving cook and bread baker Rick Easton had the same motivation when he set up shop at The Box one Sunday in January to offer a brunch of à la carte dishes ranging from $4-10. The restaurant seats 30, and Easton served 120 people in five hours.

So much of the pop-ups’ popularity comes from not knowing what to expect. Chefs who want to mix things up, flex their creativity, and show off their versatility might choose to change their concept for a night, like Michael Keaveny did last month when Italian tavola became pan-Asian Marco Polo. It was a Monday night (when the restaurant’s typically closed), so a temporary sign went up, Chinese lanterns decorated the ceilings, chopsticks replaced forks, sake was poured, and 100 diners relished small plates like miso-marinated black cod with Asian pear and daikon radish. Regulars who swear by Keaveny’s cooking and tavola’s setting and staff still got them, but with a new cuisine on their plates and at prices lower than they’re used to paying at tavola—plus a percentage of the tab went to Children, Youth and Family Services.

Venues other than restaurants are providing the backdrop for pop-ups too. Hill & Holler brings a chef, a winemaker, and a table with all the settings to a different farm every few months. Guests dine with grass at their feet and stars overhead and proceeds from each dinner benefit a local food or agricultural nonprofit.

Dining tables were set in an unusual spot on a Sunday night in late March when sous chefs from Mas, tavola, and Palladio gave up their nights off to take the stage, quite literally, with Grass & Grub—a three-course, gastropub-inspired dinner at The Jefferson Theater. Over four hours, the group served dishes like grilled Mahi-Mahi with braised kale, buttered popcorn hushpuppies, and remoulade sauce to more than 200 people who had likely never eaten on stage before.

Sometimes it’s the chef that pops up behind a different stove. In late February, Clifton Inn’s sous chef, Tyler Teass, ran the show at his seven-course supperclub dinner in a private home. He and three friends served 20 guests delicacies like salsify and crab with green apple, bread, and brown butter before sending them home with little paper sacks filled with sweets to enjoy (or share) later.

Other times, an animal inspires the feast. In mid-March, The Rock Barn’s Ben Thompson joined Angelo Vangelpoulos at the Ivy Inn to serve up an Ossabaw pig from snout to tail in a six-course pork extravaganza that took the place of restaurant’s regular dinner service. And earlier this month, two pigs served as the main course at BVILLE-Q, Brookville’s one-night transformation into a BBQ restaurant where patrons went for all-you-can-eat pickins’ in the name of hunger, camaraderie, and charity (a percentage benefited the Tom Tom Founders Festival).

The nontraditional settings and fleeting nature of pop-ups appeal to our sense of culinary adventure and our desire to have “been there” for a once-in-a-lifetime dining experience. And because reservations are required for these one-night affairs, hungry foodies pounce, snapping up tickets for themselves and friends, making it a social night out.

We might have less to spend these days, but we’re no less demanding—and our fine chefs recognize that. Who knows what’ll pop up next.

Rhubarb, that ruby-stalked rhizome that adds a tantalizing tartness to dishes both sweet and savory, is among the handful of spring produce that, just like the blossoming flowers and trees, seem to vanish in the blink of an eye. That’s why we’re practicing scorpacciata, or the act of consuming large amounts of a particular local ingredient while it’s in season. Here’s how to have a moveable rhubarb feast that begins at home and then continues out on the town.

Fossett’s Bar (right) at Keswick works its own garden’s rhubarb into happy hour with a springtime take on a Collins cocktail. Rhubarb simple syrup gets shaken up with Plymouth gin and lemon juice, poured over ice, then topped with club soda, a bitters-soaked orange wedge, and brandied cherries.You’ll want to line your stomach, so slather strawberry-rhubarb jam from Jam According to Daniel on your morning toast or lunchtime PB&J.

At the Ivy Inn, pan-seared duck foie gras gets perched atop a crumpet sautéed in foie gras fat then sits among pretty piles of rhubarb “agro-dolce,” rhubarb coulis, strawberry jam, and an almond sablée crumble.

Instead of the usual squeeze of lemon, the sweet tea at l’etoile gets its pucker from rhubarb that’s steeped in water for an hour before the drink is garnished with mint.

Brookville Restaurant gives pork belly the spring treatment by slow-roasting it and serving it with a sweet, sour, and savory purée of rhubarb and braised spring onions.
At Mas Tapas, rhubarb joins its most familiar companion in a tart made with local strawberries and a crust that owes its tenderness to lard.

Sugar, spice and everything nice
The Virginia Chutney Co. combines rhubarb with brown sugar, vinegar, raisins, jalapeño peppers, ginger, mustard seed, paprika in a chutney that jazzes up everything from salmon to cheese. Find jars at Feast!, Foods of All Nations, Great Harvest Bread Co., Greenwood Gourmet, Market Street Wineshop, Rebecca’s, and Whole Foods.

BFFs
Although rhubarb’s up earlier in the spring than strawberries, the two are happy bedfellows in pies, tarts, crumbles, and jams all the nation over. This year, spring sprung early and the strawberries at Chiles and Critzer’s are already ripe for the pickin’, so strawberry-rhubarb pie’s ready for the makin’.

Don’t eat leaves, just shoots!
Rhubarb leaves contain poisonous substances—including oxalic acid—but one would have to consume 11 pounds of them to reach a lethal dose. For those needing to get, er, moving, the roots have been used as a laxative in traditional Chinese medicine for 5,000 years.