Makes 4 to 6 servings
Cava is Spain’s claim to fame in the world of sparkling wine. It’s made predominantly in the northwestern region of Catalonia, although there are delicious bottlings that come from other parts of the country as well. Generally composed of the grapes macabeo (ma-ca-BAY-o), parellada (par-AY-yah-da), and xarel-lo (sha-REH-lo), cava is just as bubbly as Champagne, and can age incredibly well, but costs a fraction of its French counterpart. In fact, the wines are made in the same way: the second fermentation—the one that makes the wine sparkling—takes place in the bottle. Just as for Champagne, very specific laws dictate how long the cava must age on the lees, those spent yeast cells that hang out in a wine, adding all kinds of interesting flavors, such as baking bread, nuts, and dry hay. The basic wines simply labeled cava spend at least nine months on the lees. They are easy drinking with citrus and nutty flavors. Reserva cava must be aged a minimum of fifteen months on the lees, which compares roughly to nonvintage Champagne, and offers a little more texture and developed flavors than the basic. And at the top end, comparable to a vintage Champagne, is Gran Reserva cava, which needs at least thirty months on the lees to be labeled as such. They’re a splurge, but worth it for their bready, yeasty aromatics and long, complex finish. While you’re more than welcome to buy a really cheap cava and mix it with orange juice for Sunday morning mimosas, we’d point you toward a bottle that’s a few dollars more, but wonderful on its own. You don’t have to drop the money for a Gran Reserva bottle (although you really should sometime) to drink great cava.
Cava and ham, specifically Spanish jamón, are very good friends. Jamón has an inherent nuttiness, along with being ever-so-slightly gamey. It’s also fatty and salty, and when you combine these characteristics, you have something that was always meant to be enjoyed with bubbly wine. Cava is also a fantastic wine to enjoy with sweet green vegetables, such as fresh peas. This is a winning combination of umami-rich Spanish cheese, fresh mint, and a hint of lemon, all smashed together with barely cooked spring peas. Mound the mash alongside a pile of shaved jamón and some toasted hazelnuts and you’ve got a beautiful snack or light lunch.
2 pounds fresh English peas, shelled, or 2 cups frozen peas (no need to defrost)
½ cup shaved hard Spanish cheese, such as Zamorano, Garrotxa, or aged Manchego, plus more for garnish
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
1 tablespoon chopped fresh mint, plus torn leaves for garnish
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
⅓ pound thinly sliced dry-cured Spanish ham, such as Serrano or Ibérico
½ cup toasted hazelnuts (see Note)
Grilled bread, for serving
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the peas and cook until tender but still bright green, 1 to 3 minutes. Drain, then rinse briefly under cold water, just to stop the cooking. While the peas are still slightly warm, put all but ¼ cup of them in a mortar and add the cheese, oil, mint, lemon zest, a couple big pinches of salt, and several grinds of pepper. Pound them with a pestle to a very coarse but spreadable mash. Stir in the lemon juice, taste, and adjust the seasoning. (The pea spread can also be made in a food processor, but the texture won’t be as silky and the flavors will be less intense.)
Spoon the pea spread onto one side of a large platter or serving bowl and spread it in a freeform circle that’s about ¾ inch thick. Top the spread with the reserved whole peas, more cheese, torn mint leaves, and freshly ground pepper. Drizzle with oil. Loosely fold the ham slices on the other half of the platter and scatter the hazelnuts over and around them. Serve with grilled bread.
The pea spread will keep, covered, in the refrigerator for up to 1 day. Assemble and add the garnishes just before serving.
Note
To toast the nuts, preheat the oven to 350°F. Spread the nuts on a baking sheet and roast in the oven until golden brown and aromatic, 8 to 12 minutes. Set aside to cool.
Producers to Look For
Makes 8 servings (16 egg halves)
Champagne is the ultimate wine indulgence. Labor-intensive and needy, Champagne takes her sweet time to get from the vineyard to your glass, and she comes with a price tag to reflect all that work. Champagne is based primarily on pinot noir, pinot meunier (MOO-ñay), and chardonnay grapes all grown in Champagne, France. They have to first be made into a still wine, then bottled with a bit of sugar and yeast to ferment a second time under a crown cap. During this second fermentation, the yeast eats the sugar and creates fantastic tiny bubbles that are trapped in the bottle. Once the wine finishes fermenting, it spends a year to three or more on the retired yeast in the bottle, picking up flavor and texture. After that, any sediment is expelled and the wine gets topped off. The winemaker decides how much sugar to add in the topping wine: no sugar for brut nature–style wines, small amounts of sugar for extra-brut and brut, and more sugar for extra-dry, dry, demi-sec, and doux. The bottle is closed with a cork and metal cage and the wine is left to age for anywhere from a few weeks to a few years. Only then is it ready to drink…nearly two years after the grapes were picked and fermented not once, but twice. Worth every penny.
Since you’ll be splurging on Champagne, you might as well pick up a jar of caviar, too. Then elevate everyday hard-cooked eggs to party status with a golden beet turmeric brine and top with a dollop of crème fraîche and the decadent caviar. These eggs are a sexy snack meant for a serious bottle of bubbles. We recommend a chardonnay-based Champagne that packs a chalky, bright punch to balance the rich texture of the eggs and the saltiness of the caviar. If you really want to go for it, choose osetra caviar, but don’t be afraid to use the more affordable sturgeon caviar, or even salmon roe for a colorful bite.
8 extra-large eggs, at room temperature
4 sprigs dill, plus torn dill fronds, for garnish
1 golden beet, trimmed, peeled, halved lengthwise, and thinly sliced into half-moons
¾ cup Champagne vinegar
1 tablespoon honey
1 tablespoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons dill seeds
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
½ teaspoon black peppercorns
2 cups water
2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons crème fraîche
1 ounce caviar or salmon roe
Coarse sea salt, for garnish
Fill a bowl with ice water. Bring a medium pot of water to a boil over high heat. Decrease the heat to maintain a gentle simmer and slowly lower the eggs into the water using a slotted spoon. Cook for 8 minutes, then remove the eggs with the slotted spoon and plunge them into the cold water to stop the cooking.
To peel, gently tap and roll the eggs against the countertop, making tiny cracks all over like a mosaic. Peel the eggs under cool water, beginning at the thickest end. Put the eggs in a tall, heatproof container that will be large enough to hold them plus the pickling brine, such as a 1-quart canning jar. Nestle in the dill sprigs around the edges of the container.
In a small saucepan, combine the beet slices, vinegar, honey, kosher salt, dill seeds, turmeric, peppercorns, and water and bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally. Decrease the heat to maintain a low simmer, cover, and cook until the beet slices are tender, about 15 minutes.
Pour the hot brine, beet slices and all, into the jar over the eggs and push the eggs down to submerge. Cool to room temperature, then cover and refrigerate for 6 to 8 hours for the eggs to absorb the color and flavor. (Don’t leave them in the brine much longer than 8 hours, because the egg whites become rubbery if they’re pickled too long. Out of the brine, the eggs will keep in a covered container in the refrigerator for 3 days.)
Cut the eggs in half lengthwise and arrange them on a platter. Top each with ½ teaspoon of the crème fraîche, slightly off-center of the yolk, followed by a small spoonful of caviar. Sprinkle with a pinch of coarse salt and a few torn dill fronds and serve.
Producers to Look For
Makes 6 to 8 servings
Muscadet is the classic pairing for oysters. Made from the melon de bourgogne grape, Muscadet is replete with mineral and saline notes, so it makes sense that it partners with briny bivalves. Until recently, most Muscadet wines were made without malolactic fermentation, or “malo,” the second fermentation that many wines go through, in which harsh malic acids are converted to softer lactic acids. The lack of malo kept Muscadet bright, zippy, and full of acidity. But we’ve found that some of the best Muscadet for our oyster bar are the newer bottlings that undergo malo. The wines have just a touch of richness and body to them, and the typical sharp acid is toned down a tiny bit. Here, we recommend producers of both styles.
If fresh oysters intimidate you, let this oyster bar wash you of your fear once and for all. (Some shops even sell them pre-shucked now.) You needn’t save oysters for a special occasion at a restaurant. You can shuck an oyster without stabbing your hand and racing to the emergency room. Oysters used to be the food of the working class, and were only elevated to “fancy” at the beginning of the twentieth century. And, last, what’s intimidating about standing around in your kitchen, slurping oysters and drinking wine with your friends? Think of this as party food—the precursor to sitting down to a delicious dinner.
Since this is party food, set yourself up for success: invest in two oyster-shucking knives—they’re inexpensive. The granita can be made at up to a month in advance, the mignonette three days ahead, and the relish a few hours before people arrive. And when they show up, give a shucking tutorial, enlist your friends to help, keep everybody’s glasses full of Muscadet, and never be afraid to eat oysters at home again.
½ large (about 6 ounces) cucumber, peeled, seeded, and very coarsely chopped
Juice of 1 ruby red grapefruit, strained
¼ cup dry white wine, preferably Muscadet
1 tablespoon sugar
2 teaspoons minced ginger
2 teaspoons minced shallot
3 tablespoons rice vinegar
¾ teaspoon fish sauce
1 small fennel bulb
1 small tart green apple
1½ to 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon coarsely crushed pink peppercorns
Sea salt
Freshly grated horseradish
Small lemon wedges
Hot sauce of your choice
36 oysters
To make the granita: Combine the cucumber, grapefruit juice, wine, and sugar in a blender and blend until smooth and frothy. Pour the mixture into a shallow baking dish or pie plate and place it in the freezer. When it just begins to freeze, after about 30 minutes, give it a stir. Return the pan to the freezer. Continue stirring every 30 minutes or so, creating a slushy texture as it freezes. Once frozen, use a fork to rake the mixture to get a fluffy, icy granita. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and keep in the freezer until ready to serve, or for up to 1 month.
To make the mignonette: In a small bowl, stir the ginger, shallot, vinegar, and fish sauce. Cover and refrigerate until ready to serve, or for up to 3 days.
To make the relish: Trim the fennel bulb and cut it into ⅛-inch cubes. Core the apple, leaving the skin on, and cut it into ⅛-inch cubes. In a medium bowl, gently stir the fennel, apple, 1½ tablespoons of the lemon juice, the pink peppercorns, and a nice pinch of salt. Taste and adjust the seasoning, adding more lemon juice or salt as needed. Cover and refrigerate until ready to serve, or for up to 4 hours.
Transfer the granita, mignonette, and relish to small serving bowls or ramekins, along with grated horseradish and lemon wedges. Have the hot sauce on hand. Prepare a large serving platter of ice. Shuck the oysters, arranging them on the ice as you go, and serve immediately.
Note
To shuck oysters, lay the oyster on a kitchen towel with the flatter part facing up. Fold the towel over the oyster with the hinge exposed. Holding the oyster securely, use an oyster knife to find the notch in the hinge between the top and bottom shells. Apply moderate pressure to insert the tip of the knife through the notch, angling it slightly downward to avoid stabbing the meat. Twist the knife until the shell pops open. Run the knife around the edge of the upper shell to release it. Once open, run the knife under the oyster and flip it over in the shell, taking care not to pour out the juices. Carefully wipe away any shell fragments and grit. Slurp, sip, repeat.
Makes 4 to 6 servings
Vermentino grows along the coastlines of Italy, but also has a home in Southern France, where it’s called rolle. The Italian versions are found in Liguria, on the Tuscan coast, and in Sardinia, and they tend to be refreshing, lighter-bodied wines with a lush fruitiness and touch of salinity. When grown in Tuscany, vermentino takes on more richness than in other parts of Italy, but retains its freshness all the same. In France, rolle is grown widely in Provence, as well as the Languedoc-Roussillon, bottled on its own, or sometimes blended into rosé. Vermentino is the yin to our aguachile’s yang, bringing a mouthwatering saltiness and bold herbaceousness to the citrus-and-coconut-bathed shrimp.
If you’ve had ceviche, you’ve basically had aguachile. The idea is the same: raw shrimp or chunks of fish are quickly “cooked” in a citrus marinade. The difference is that there’s spicy chile water mixed with the citrus in aquachile. One of Dana’s favorite versions comes from Mexico, where she vacations with her family every year, and that’s what inspired this recipe. Joe Jack’s Fish Shack, right in the heart of Puerto Vallarta’s old town, serves an aguachile with gorgeous, plump white shrimp and curls of fresh coconut swimming in chile-laced lime juice. It’s served with perfectly fried, extra-salty chips. This recipe takes those shrimp and tosses in some juicy mango, crunchy jicama, and avocado. Because you’ll be drinking vermentino with this aguachile, we’ve dialed back the jalapeño so that the heat doesn’t fight with the acidity in the wine. You can always add more if you prefer it spicier. It’s imperative that you buy the freshest shrimp possible since you’ll be eating them just one step away from raw.
1 pound medium shrimp, peeled, deveined, and quartered
Sea salt
Vegetable oil, for frying
16 (3-inch) corn tortillas (sometimes labeled “street tacos” or “taqueria-style”)
⅓ cup fresh lime juice
3 tablespoons coconut water
1 large jalapeño chile, seeded and coarsely chopped
⅓ cup diced jicama
⅓ cup diced avocado
⅓ cup diced mango
⅓ cup chopped cilantro, plus torn cilantro leaves, for garnish
One to two hours before serving, put the shrimp in a medium bowl and season them with 1 teaspoon salt. Cover and refrigerate.
Just before serving, fill a large skillet with about ½ inch of oil and place it over medium heat. Line a large baking sheet with paper towels and set it near the stove. The oil is ready for frying when a small piece of tortilla dropped in sizzles rapidly on contact. At that point, slide in 3 or 4 tortillas, or as many as will fit in the pan with a little overlap, and fry until very crisp and golden brown, turning to cook on both sides, about 2 minutes. Transfer the tostadas to the prepared baking sheet and immediately sprinkle them with salt. Repeat until all of the tortillas are fried.
Blitz the lime juice, coconut water, jalapeño, and ¼ teaspoon salt in a blender until the chile is completely pulverized. Add the chile water to the bowl of salted shrimp, along with the jicama, avocado, mango, and cilantro. Let sit for 2 to 4 minutes, until the shrimp turns opaque and is just barely “cooked.” Taste and adjust the seasoning.
Transfer the aquachile to a serving bowl and garnish with cilantro leaves. Break each tostada into 3 or 4 jagged pieces and serve immediately.
Makes 6 to 8 servings
Some wines are quietly impressive. They don’t leap out of the glass giving you everything they’ve got right away. They hang around, being really delicious in a shy kind of way. They’re like the talented wallflower at the school dance, standing by the punch table, watching everyone else until the moment strikes them and they take center stage. Albariño is one such wallflower. Hailing from Northwestern Spain’s Rías Baixas region, great albariño is a little demure on the nose, not flowery or fruity or overtly aromatic, instead showing mineral and citrus. Truly delicious albariño has a bit of weight to it—it’s not always meant to be an easy quaffer, but instead a touch more serious, and that’s what’s so charming about it. Buried in albariño is a genuine expressiveness that’s a bit saline and savory and a touch lemony. Avoid versions that are described as oaky (a real bummer) or highly aromatic (a result of commercial yeast). There’s a lot of tropical tutti-frutti–tasting albariño out there. Definitely skip those.
We love having snacks waiting for guests when they come over for dinner. They’re a great icebreaker, and everyone can stand around with a glass of wine and something to nibble on while you finish cooking. No one feels hungry, and it takes the pressure off. With very little effort, you can take your snack tray from hummus and carrot sticks or chips and salsa to an all-out dip extravaganza of paprika-laced chorizo butter, creamy tuna mayo, and tangy pistachio yogurt. These are three super-easy recipes that can be buzzed up in a food processor, one after another, and chilled until about an hour before your guests arrive. Chop up whichever crunchy vegetables you have on hand, or choose from what’s in season at the farmers’ market to make your sticks.
6 ounces dry-cured Spanish chorizo, skin removed and discarded, meat coarsely chopped
¼ cup cold unsalted butter, cubed
¼ cup water
2 tablespoons sherry vinegar, or to taste
½ teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, or to taste
¼ teaspoon smoked Spanish paprika, or to taste
2 (4-ounce) cans tuna in oil, drained
¼ cup mayonnaise
¼ teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
4 teaspoons fresh lemon juice, or to taste
1 cup unsalted shelled pistachios
⅓ cup water
1 teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
⅓ cup plain Greek yogurt
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, or to taste
Dipping Sticks
French breakfast radishes, leaves intact if they are fresh, bulbs halved or quartered lengthwise
Baby carrots, tops trimmed with 1 inch of stem intact
Broccolini, trimmed and steamed for about 5 minutes, until tender-crisp
Belgian endive spears
Asparagus spears, trimmed and steamed for 3 to 5 minutes, until tender-crisp
Fennel bulb, cut lengthwise into batons
Snap peas
Grissini (Italian crispy, thin breadsticks)
To make the Whipped Chorizo Butter: Put all the ingredients in a food processor and buzz until blended and relatively smooth, like a pâté, scraping down the sides as needed. Taste and add more vinegar, salt, pepper, or paprika, as needed. Transfer the dip to a small bowl or jar, cover, and refrigerate for up to 1 week. Bring to room temperature about 1 hour before serving.
To make the Tonnato Dip: Put the tuna, mayonnaise, and salt in a food processor and buzz until smooth. With the processor running, drizzle in the oil and lemon juice and continue processing until creamy smooth, scraping down the sides as needed. Taste and add more lemon juice or salt as needed. Transfer the dip to a small bowl or jar, cover, and refrigerate for up to 3 days. Bring to room temperature about 1 hour before serving.
To make the Pistachio-Yogurt Dip: Put the pistachios in a food processor and buzz until very finely chopped and almost pasty. With the processor running, drizzle in the water, add the salt, and continue processing until creamy, scraping the sides and bottom as needed. Add the yogurt and lemon juice and process to combine. Taste and add more lemon juice or salt as needed. Transfer the dip to a small bowl or jar, cover, and refrigerate for up to 3 days. Bring to room temperature about 1 hour before serving.
To serve, put the dips on a large platter and arrange the dipping sticks around them in a bountiful, colorful presentation.
Store the assembled platter, covered, in the refrigerator for up to 1 day.
Producers to Look For
Makes 4 servings
How do we properly extol the delicious virtues of Chablis? Grown on limestone-rich Kimmeridgian soils in the northernmost part of Burgundy, we’d argue that Chablis is chardonnay at its finest. The region itself is closer in proximity to Southern Champagne than the rest of Burgundy, and you might be able to tell by the flinty, minerally notes that are hallmarks of both Champagne and good Chablis. Some producers use oak barrels, while others abstain, relying on stainless steel for fermentation and aging. Either way, we suggest a wine that flaunts its pretty fruitiness and lip-smacking acidity—your mussels will love it.
We love slurping steaming hot mussels in their shells and sopping up their buttery, briny sauce right out of the pan they were cooked in. No utensils needed, just some napkins and glasses full of Chablis. A prefunk doesn’t get more hands-on than that. This recipe is ideal, whether your table is on the back patio next to the grill or in the kitchen near the oven. It’s just as appropriate to serve as a party starter, or with a simple salad for a weeknight dinner. Don’t be afraid to change up your compound butter. No pancetta? Use bacon. Like your mussels more herby? Add fresh thyme or dill. And there will be enough butter to make two rounds of the mussels, so if you’d like to feed more than four, pick up a couple more pounds of mussels and cook them in batches.
½ cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
6 ounces pancetta, cut into ¼-inch dice
1 large shallot, minced
3 large cloves garlic, minced
⅓ cup minced fresh chives
1 lemon, zest finely grated
Freshly ground black pepper
Sea salt
2 pounds mussels, debearded, scrubbed, and drained well
Grilled or toasted bread, for serving
Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the pancetta and cook until it’s browned and crispy on the outside but still a little meaty within, 5 to 10 minutes. Pour the pan’s contents through a fine-mesh strainer set over a bowl. Set the pancetta aside to cool. Add about 2 tablespoons of the rendered fat back to the pan and return it to medium heat. Add the shallot and garlic and cook until fragrant and just softened, 1 to 2 minutes, then transfer them to a medium bowl. Add the remaining 7 tablespoons butter and the chives, lemon zest, and several grinds of pepper to the bowl. Mince the pancetta quite finely—like the size of bacon bits—and add that to the bowl too. Mix and mash with a fork until the butter is uniformly flecked with the other ingredients. Taste and add salt, as needed. If the butter is too warm to hold shape at this point, set it in the refrigerator for a few minutes to harden slightly, removing it while it is still pliable.
Spoon the butter down the center of a sheet of parchment paper and shape and roll it into a cylinder about 6 inches long. Twist the parchment paper at the ends to seal. Refrigerate until firm, at least 1 hour and up to 3 days before using. (The butter can be wrapped tightly in plastic wrap and frozen for up to 3 months.)
Preheat the oven, or a covered gas or charcoal grill, to 500°F with a 12-inch cast-iron skillet inside. Once preheated, add the mussels to the hot skillet in an even layer. Roast or grill, with the cover closed, until the mussels are open, about 5 minutes, shaking the pan once about halfway through.
Meanwhile, cut the lemon in half and char the halves, cut-side down, on either the grill grate or the stove top, in a heavy skillet set over medium-high heat, until deeply browned, 2 to 3 minutes.
When the mussels are open, remove the pan and add about half of the butter, dotting slices of it around the pan. Toss and stir as the butter melts into the mussels, creating a brothy sauce in the bottom of the pan. Squeeze the charred lemon over the top and serve piping hot with the bread for sopping up the sauce.
Producers to Look For
Makes 12 servings
Provence hugs the southeastern coastline of France, and includes the well-known cities of Marseilles, Nice, and Saint-Tropez. Well over half of the wine made there is rosé, and a lot of it is from large producers who put quantity over quality. If you look beyond the big guys, this is one of the best places in the world for pink wines. Grapes such as cinsault (SAHN-so), grenache, and mourvèdre (mohr-VED-dra) dominate the region, but outliers, like tibouren (TEE-boh-rahn), are worth seeking out. They’re bottled in the spring and we start seeing them on the shelf by early summer.
Sometimes you just can’t mess with a classic. But here, we did. Pissaladière, the onion tart studded with anchovies and olives and synonymous with Provençal cuisine, is one of our favorite dishes of all time, but we wanted to shake it up just a bit. We swapped the traditional sweetly stewed onions for slow-roasted shallots, and Niçoise olives for their intense oil-cured cousins. Rosé from Provence, with its signature sea salt and fresh-red-fruit aromatics, is exactly what we want to drink with meaty little anchovies, briny olives, and a shatteringly crisp crust.
2 pounds shallots, peeled
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
1½ tablespoons apple cider vinegar
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
4 thyme sprigs
1 (17.3-ounce) box puff pastry dough, thawed according to package directions
12 oil-packed anchovy fillets
12 oil-cured olives, torn in half and pitted
Preheat the oven to 450°F with a rack positioned in the bottom third.
Cut the larger shallots into wedges, quarter the medium ones, and halve the small ones. Toss the shallots in a 9 by 13-inch baking dish with the oil, vinegar, 1 teaspoon salt, several grinds of pepper, and the thyme sprigs. Roast until very tender and lightly browned, stirring every 10 minutes, about 30 minutes. Discard the thyme sprigs.
Line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper. Place the 2 square sheets of puff pastry on a clean countertop. Brush an edge of one of the squares with water and press an edge of the other one in. Essentially, you want to merge the two sheets into one. Trim off one of the sections of the pastry at the fold, and use a rolling pin to smooth out the seam and fold lines, so you have a 9½ by 15-inch rectangular sheet of pastry. Transfer the pastry to the prepared baking sheet and use a fork to poke holes all over it. Spread the shallots in an even layer over the pastry, leaving a ¾-inch crust. Arrange the anchovies and olives so that there will be 1 anchovy fillet and 2 olive halves on each slice when the pissaldière is cut into 12 squares. Generously drizzle the whole thing with oil.
Bake until the pastry edges are deep golden brown and the shallots have some caramelization on top, about 20 minutes. Cool and then cut it into 12 squares and serve.
Producers to Look For
Makes 4 servings
Oregon has an obsession with pinot noir. Its winemaking history began in 1966 when David Lett of the Eyrie Vineyards planted the first cuttings of pinot in Northwest Oregon’s astonishingly fertile Willamette Valley. Over the next fifty-plus years, the growing region has come to include vineyards in the far southern reaches of the state, as well as up north along the Columbia River Gorge. Pinot noir is as much a part of Oregon as anything else that defines its people and landscape. And when the rosé craze came to a head in the United States in the mid-2000s, Oregonians happily jumped on board, producing pink wine from various grapes, from tempranillo to, of course, pinot noir. Interestingly, you won’t find much rosé of pinot outside of the States. Sure, there’s plenty in Champagne, and some in California and Australia, but Oregon has the market cornered with these fruity, blushy summertime wines. With a range of colors, from barely salmon to pale magenta, pink pinot noir begs for fresh food, dinner on the porch, and 9 PM sunsets.
And what’s better to pair with a highly seasonal wine than equally seasonal fruit? Remember, we mentioned that the Willamette Valley is incredibly fertile. The growing season is long, for grapes, hazelnuts, flowers, and all types of produce. In good growing years, strawberries start appearing at the farmers’ market in early June and can continue on until mid-September. Burrata is a Southern Italian specialty, a thick skin of mozzarella stretched around a creamy interior. It’s rich and salty, and our favorite way to enjoy it is with a small salad like this one, with its juicy, deep-red strawberries, crisp celery hearts, and tarragon. Very ripe berries and rosé are an age-old pairing, and not only do we love the match of color between wine and berries, but also the nearly perfect complement of flavors.
½ cup sliced strawberries
¼ cup very thinly sliced celery hearts and leaves
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
1 tablespoon white balsamic vinegar
2 sprigs tarragon, leaves picked
Flaky sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 (4-ounce) balls burrata cheese
Grilled or toasted bread, for serving
In a small bowl, toss the strawberries, celery hearts and leaves, oil, vinegar, and tarragon leaves. Season with salt and pepper.
Place the burrata in a shallow serving bowl or on a plate and tear it open, loosely, to expose the creamy center. Sprinkle the top with salt and pepper and drizzle generously with oil. Spoon the salad to either side of the burrata and serve with the bread.
Makes 6 servings
Amontillado is the style of sherry that has spent part of its life under flor, the magical yeast that’s unique to Jerez, Spain. That flor gives sherry its nutty, yeasty aromatics but also protects the wine from oxidizing (see this page). Unlike fino and manzanilla sherries that stay under flor—and therefore maintain their briny character—amontillado is only under flor until the yeast dies, while the rest of its aging is in a barrel for two to eight years, putting the focus on building complexity and oxidization. The end result? A much more complex, richer style of sherry that is dry and loaded with notes of toasted nuts, orange peels, sea salt, and warm spices. It’s an especially exciting style of sherry because it achieves the balance of an aged wine with the deep flavors of the flor. Drink all of that with this chicken liver toast and you have yourself one helluva umami-spiked snack.
Sherry and liver is perhaps one of the most spot-on pairings in the wine world. And while we’re certainly not the ones to invent it, we are the ones to shout about it from the rooftop. Old-school chopped chicken liver gets a new lease on life with sherry-soaked dried cherries and caramelized shallots. Everything gets roughly mashed together and piled on a slice of crispy country loaf, as the juices ooze into the bread while the crust holds its crunch. Here you have all of the savory, earthy flavors of liver with the almost exotic notes of the wine, paired up in a, dare we say, magical way.
½ cup dried cherries, coarsely chopped
⅓ cup amontillado sherry
1 pound chicken livers, lobes separated and trimmed of connective tissue
5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 medium shallots, minced
¼ cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
6 (¾-inch-thick) slices country bread, such as levain or whole grain
1 clove garlic, halved
In a small bowl, soak the cherries in the sherry until plump, about 10 minutes.
Rinse the livers and pat them dry. Heat 3 tablespoons of the oil in a 10-inch skillet over medium-high heat. Cook the livers in two batches until firm but still pink inside, turning once, 3 to 5 minutes. (Overcooked livers are dry and have a chalky texture, so don’t let them cook too long.) Transfer the livers to a cutting board, leaving the drippings in the pan off the heat. Coarsely chop the livers to get some larger chunks (about ½ inch) and some smaller crumbly bits. Place the chopped livers in a medium bowl and season with a big pinch of salt and several grinds of pepper while still hot. Toss and gently mash some of the mixture briefly, so that it is kind of bound, like a really chunky paste. Set aside.
Preheat the broiler.
Place the skillet back over medium-high heat, add the shallots, and cook them in the pan drippings until browned, about 4 minutes. Add the soaked cherries and excess sherry and deglaze the pan, scraping the bottom and sides for about 1 minute. Pour this into the bowl with the livers. Add the parsley and 1 tablespoon oil to the bowl and toss to combine. Taste and adjust the seasoning with more salt and pepper.
Meanwhile, drizzle the bread slices with the remaining 1 tablespoon oil and place them under the broiler, turning once, until deeply toasted and charred along the edges of both sides, about 5 minutes total. Rub the hot toasts with the cut sides of the garlic clove and top with the warm chicken liver mixture. Cut the toasts in half on a bias, if you like. Drizzle with more olive oil, finish with a few grinds of black pepper, and serve.
Store the chicken liver mixture, covered, in the refrigerator for up to 2 days. Bring to room temperature before serving.
Producers to Look For
For most people, the word alpine evokes visions of magnificent snow-covered peaks, a chalet with a Bernese Mountain Dog out front, fur-trimmed coats, and après-ski cocktails. For us, alpine means wine. Crisp white wines that immediately transport us to where the spring waters are icy cold and crystal clear, and the vines share space with abundant wildflowers. There are a wide variety of white wines from the alpine regions of France’s Savoie, Switzerland’s Valais, and Italy’s Valle d’Aosta, Trentino, and Alto Adige, and nearly all of them will be the quintessential pairing for your cheese-filled fête. Task your guests with a wine treasure hunt—they should look for grapes such as petite arvine, altesse (all-TESS), gringet (GRAHN-jzay), chasselas (SHAH-se-la), nosiola (no-zee-OH-la), kerner, and prié blanc, all wines rich with stony minerality and vibrant fruity notes reminiscent of Meyer lemons and baked apples, apricots, and yellow plums. While they won’t be the most common white wines on the shelf, they’re definitely worth seeking out. Keep in mind that Swiss wines, although relatively unknown outside of Europe and the most expensive of the bunch (as is life in Switzerland), are unbelievably delicious and not to be missed.
The fondue trend may have gone with the eighties, but thankfully the hot melted cheese party isn’t over. We consider raclette to be the fondue of our generation. For very little money, you can purchase or rent a raclette grill, or for no money you can use a hot skillet and your oven to get to melted cheese nirvana. Raclette, like Gruyère and Comté, is a slightly stinky alpine cheese with a smooth paste and great melting capabilities. Like all melted cheese–based meals, this one is best shared with a group of friends. Imagine a cold winter day with snow on the ground and your fireplace ablaze. Throw some pillows on the floor, with your cheese feast splayed out on the coffee table and the wines on ice nearby to keep the glasses filled.
The following menu reflects our favorite bites to smother, but feel free to go rogue using these guidelines, plus tips for serving:
1. Plan on 4 ounces of raclette cheese per person. If baking the raclette in an oven, melt the cheese in batches to keep it hot and fresh.
2. Always have an array of salty cured meats and smoked sausages on the table.
3. Fruits in various forms are a no-brainer, as they bring their sweetness to balance the tang. Consider pickled or dried fruits in addition to fresh.
4. Boiled new potatoes make this feel more like a meal than a giant snack.
5. Soft pretzels and hearty whole-grain breads are wonderful vessels for scooping up the cheese.
6. Scrape the hot melted cheese over the warm persillade potatoes, sausages, charcuterie, and soft pretzels and breads, with pickled pears, mostarda, cornichons, and cocktail onions served on the side.
Makes 8 to 10 servings
2 to 2½ pounds raclette cheese, cut into ¼-inch-thick slices by your cheesemonger
If you have a tabletop raclette machine, use it to let your friends each melt slices of raclette in the little trays. If not, preheat a cast-iron skillet (or two) in the oven at 400°F.
When the oven and the skillet are preheated, remove the skillet and add enough slices of the cheese to cover the bottom in a single layer. Bake the cheese until melted and bubbling around the edges, 4 to 5 minutes. Repeat to melt the remaining cheese in batches after the first round is eaten.
Makes 8 to 10 servings
3 pounds small German Butterball or Yukon gold potatoes
2 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon kosher salt
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup loosely packed flat-leaf parsley leaves, finely chopped
3 large cloves garlic, finely minced
Put the potatoes in a large saucepan and add enough cold water to cover them by at least 2 inches. Season the water with 2 tablespoons of the salt and bring it to a boil over high heat. Decrease the heat to maintain a gentle simmer and cook until the potatoes are tender when pierced with a fork, 15 to 20 minutes, depending on their size. Drain the potatoes in a colander, then return them to the pot. Immediately add the remaining 1 teaspoon salt and the butter and toss gently to melt the butter, coating the potatoes thoroughly without mashing them. Sprinkle the potatoes with the parsley and garlic and toss again. Serve immediately.
Makes 8 to 10 servings (2 pints)
2 ripe or slightly underripe Bosc pears
1¼ cups apple cider vinegar
1 cup water
6 tablespoons honey
2 teaspoons kosher salt
2 teaspoons juniper berries
2 bay leaves
Halve and core the pears, then cut each one lengthwise into 12 spears. Pack the spears into 2 wide-mouth, pint-size canning jars. Combine the vinegar, water, honey, salt, juniper berries, and bay leaves in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring until the honey and salt are dissolved. Boil for about 2 minutes. Pour the boiling-hot brine into the jars to completely cover the pears, about 1 cup per jar. Cover the jars with lids and set aside to allow the brine to slowly cool to room temperature as it pickles the pears, about 4 hours. When completely cooled, either use the pickled pears immediately, or refrigerate them for up to 1 month.
Makes 8 to 10 servings
½ cup packed finely chopped dried apricots
½ cup golden raisins, half left whole and half finely chopped
1 shallot, minced
½ cup dry white wine
½ cup water
3 tablespoons white wine vinegar
3 tablespoons yellow mustard seeds
1 tablespoon dry mustard
½ teaspoon kosher salt
1½ tablespoons finely chopped fresh tarragon
In a medium saucepan, combine the apricots, raisins, shallot, wine, water, vinegar, mustard seeds, dry mustard, and salt and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Decrease the heat to maintain a gentle simmer, cover, and cook until the liquid is absorbed, the fruit is softened, and the mostarda is the texture of chunky compote, 15 to 20 minutes. Uncover and stir in half of the tarragon. Set aside to cool and allow the flavors to come together. Once cooled, stir in the remaining tarragon. (Add a splash of water if the mostarda has become too thick.) Set aside until ready to serve, or refrigerate for up to 2 days. Serve at room temperature.
