Re-Learning Bordeaux

First trip of the year and I'm about to head over to Bordeaux. I haven't been back since I worked there in 2003. I am excited, yet I am apprehensive. Bordeaux, to me, can be great and exalting, but it can also be a harbinger of the worst in wine as well. Napa Valley over here mirrors this troubling dichotomy. I remember in 2003 having lunch with some heavy weight Bordelaise company CEO- the guy owned over a dozen properties and many more designer wine labels- and I listened to him as all he discussed was distribution, and branding, and selling product.

No doubt, selling product, whether you are Coke or whether you are the smallest little farmer selling a couple of hand picked organics eggs each week, cannot be ignored. But, I think there's a "right way" to do it. Each product, and in wine- each wine, each estate- has its own merits. Every time you visit an estate there's something special that's happening there that makes it different than the others and unique inside a larger portfolio. Price structuring is not that difference- although talk to many marketers, listen to that old Bordeaux CEO, and that's what they talk about. Consumers, more importantly people, could give a shit less about price structuring. What they and I (cause yes, I buy my share of wine and eggs too!) care about is authenticity, soul, value, and a sense of connection to why a product, and/or a wine, is created.

A distinctly remember being in Napa almost 5 years ago. Napa trips are long and often grueling because it's a place wrought with a lot of the above- the negative side especially. And at the end of the trip we visited this very small producer way up on Spring Mountain. The winemaker was cool. The family that owned the property was incredibly wealthy. There was a pool there and horses. And we were tasting through the estate's lineup over lunch with the winemaker and the wife. I was very tired, and after hearing all about "how well we think this varietal does here" and "how delicious these wines are" I finally lost my patience and asked- "So, why did you make this wine?" You would have thought a bomb exploded at the end of this table. But, hats of to the winemaker. She dropped the marketing BS and immediately moved into the story of the site she was working, her passion for old vine Petit Verdot and Cab Franc and what she thought those varietals would bring to a Napa Cab, and where she wanted to take the wine so that it would age with grace and beauty. Obviously, I respect her for that.

Anyways, I am excited to head over to Bordeaux. St Emilion is an amazing town- arguably the most beautiful in all of France. And I'm going to see Jean Luc Thunevin. The Anti-Bordelaise. What am I most excited about? I want to hear Jean Luc talk about the estate's he works with, and I want to hear him talk about why he works with them. I want to see behind the curtains and get a look at what makes Bordeaux special again.

Help!

So, the wife has me slow cooking. I'm not a fan- I must admit. By nature, I am an absolute classicist. Cheat sheets and corner cutting have never done it for me. Plain and simple, I'm a work hard and earn your keep kind of guy...And so with food, if I want a braised beef, I'll use a Creuset and braise the brisket for 5 hours or so the old fashioned way.

So, I slow cooked some chicken. It came out bland, but I did make the huge mistake of not browning it first. Hey, you learn.

But, I guess my big problem with the slow cooker is the loss of the relationship between dish and cook. You stick all of the ingredients in the pot. You close the lid. You open the lid 4 or 9 hours later. Voila. Cooked food. Sorry, but for me the creation of a dish- watching it progress into something- has always been a big part of what the enjoyment of food is all about. Carmelizing the meat. Seeing the sofrito come together. The deglaze. The seasoning. The finishing fat. These decisions and others are for me what make cooking an art, and to take that away- or maybe more accurately minimize them, simplify them- I don't know...

I guess its better than microwaving, yes?

So, I toss it back to the reader. Slow cooking. You a fan? If you are, tips on keeping some soul in the food?

A Requirement: My New Orleans

First, for any skeptics out there (and I am one of you), I am receiving $0.00 for this. This comes from the heart.

Not since Marcella Hazan and Richard Olney have I seen a "cookbook" done so well. Yes, heavy, I know. To be short and to the point John Besh's new work My New Orleans is a requirement in your culinary library.

I picked it up two weeks ago at Borders for about $45. Yes, I was initially caught by the vivid pictures. (By the way, to any aspiring food/cookbook authors out there, we eat with our eyes- include really good photos please! Only Marcella and Pierre can get away without them.) But, then I dove into the work itself and I have to say- the guy transports you into the back streets and old family backyards of his hometown. You leaf through his book and you might as well be walking through Antebellum houses eating beignets and smelling sauteed andouille.

Recipe-wise this is the real deal. There's no corner cutting. There's no quick fixes. This is bon femme New Orleans in its most original form, and I'm talking down to the seasonality of when they use citrus and tomatoes. It is highly detailed into the philosophy of New Orlean's cooking and not only adds cultural context, but also backs up the chemistry and ancestral foundations of why decisions are made in recipes; it's ridiculously thorough.

For the Super Bowl I ended making his Jamabalaya. Amazing. The aromatics alone blow any New Orleans' Jamabalya recipe I've ever tasted away. And because Besh is a huge fan of layered cooking (a la Hazan style) the depth and complexity in his dishes are amazing. Let's put it this way, my wife was scarfing down andouille sausage. Yep. Saw it with my own eyes...:)

And to sing this work's praises some more- it takes a cuisine that this 'yankee' thought of as simple and fun and makes it haute. It elevates it into an art form in a way a great French chef can elevate a simple vinaigrette. For me, I think Besh has left us with a tome for the American culinary world. A new bible.

And if this guy doesn't get a Beard award for this, then Beard awards don't mean anything anymore...

Anyways, My New Orleans by John Besh. Amazon has it at $29.70. I still think it's worth $45. And I'd pay $45 tomorrow for it.