EAT WINE

Living down here in South America, at times I feel a little out of the gourmet loop in terms of kitchen gadgets. While we have the basics, there is no Williams-Sonoma, Sur Le Table, and imagine, Food Network. Back in October, a couple food-and-wine minded clients were raving about this special grater called the Microplane (the Micro-what?) and were convinced that I was the only (American) cook on the planet not to have this latest and greatest grater. Ok, it sounded cool but logisitically not feasible until my next trip to the US so I had soon forgotten about it...until one day the post man arrived with a large padded manila envelope. Inside, there was a wrapped gift that oddly looked like a lightweight dagger. Wondering how it passed customs and what it could possibly be, opening it I realized it was this famed grater that my clients had spoken of. They had taken it upon themselves to send me my first microplane grater. Hallelujah. A grater, you say--why, you ARE a food nerd! Well, my only response is that this simple kitchen gadget/tool is something I cannot remember NOT having. Let me tell you why I love it and use it all the time (and send thanks again to the Kleins for taking the initiative to get it into my hands!).

1. Far from being cheesy: Cheese grating takes on new dimensions as it shaves paper-thin in delicate ribbons. It does a beautiful job with hard cheeses like Parmesan, Manchego, even Gruyere. You end up using a LOT less cheese (good for cheese junkies like myself who tend to overdo it ). In particular on pasta, it distributes so evenly so you get the cheese flavor but not all the volume/quantity (and fat).

2. Spice it up: other condiments that grate beautifully are fresh ginger for your herbal tea or Asian/Indian concoctions, garlic, all citrus zests, dark chocolate (for cappuchino or ice cream). You can even the gratings to decorate plates and impress your friends at your next dinner party with your presentation pizazz.

3. Handle/grip: After having carpal tunnel surgery 3 years ago (from incessant chopping, sports, and tiny hands), this is a major plus. It is lightweight, has a large grip that is easy to hold even for my elf-sized hands, and you don't have to support it on anything to grate--you can do it "free form".

3. Easy to clean: I hate washing dishes and am sans dishwasher (still) here in Chile. Basically a quick rinse right after using and "listo". For some reason, it seems like less of a hassle using this than a traditional grater. Convenience and ease, after all, count.

So what are you waiting for? If you can get one, it is the best $15 you will ever spend on a kitchen toy. And if you aren't a cook but love food, this could be a great gift for any of your cook friends. Enjoy!

www.microplane.com

For many years, Sauvignon Blanc in Chile has been synonymous with the Casablanca Valley--that foggy valley off of Route 68 on the road to Valparaiso and Viña del Mar. Mostly dairy farms until 1982, winemaker Pablo Morandé was the first to pioneer and plant wines here, finding the climate very similar to Sonoma in California with sufficient sun but also cooler temperatures. He guessed right; and Chile 's first major white wine valley was born.

Fast forward 20 years. Casablanca is consolidated and booming with plastic, flashy-looking wineries alongside the highway like Veramonte or the faux bright white castle Indomita (which can, by the way, be seen from outer space). The wines are solid with their tutti frutti, kiwi aromas and nice acidity. They are a pleasant drink but something about them is too conforming, too predictable. I want something edgy. I want some tongue-dazzling acidity. I want dry mineral, flint, and rock notes. Okay, I will be up front. What I really want is  a Sancerre-style SB or new world-wise, a  Kiwi-style one. Give me some personality--and that acidity to rock your palate. A group of adventuresome boutique wineries have headed from the Casablanca valley further south and west heading for the coast in the newest wine appellation in Chile : San Antonio . An area that is appropriately called the "Chilean Outback"  by Matetic Vineyard's sommelier, Bruno Kuster , because of vast expanses of overbush, thistles, pines, eucalyptus, rugged coast, and an overall rustic feel, is producing Chile 's current showstopping Sauvignon Blancs; with vibrant acidity, concentration of fruit and mineral notes, and most importantly, unique expressions. Although most border on an alcohol level of 14.5, the high acidity and low pH let it come, go, and it is never an issue--until maybe you have kicked a bottle. 

Here's a round-up of my personal favorites (in their respective order). If you can get your hands on these in the States, by all means do. They are worth finding.

1. Casa Marin: Los Cipreses Vineyard 2006 : Maria Luz Marin, the winemaker of Casa Marin, is serious about her whites. A boutique winery only 4 kilometers from the sea, this Sauvignon Blanc comes from a high, cold, and windy hill with poor, sandy soils. The result? An elegant, long, tingling wine with high acidity and low pH. On the nose it has citric and mineral notes, rocks, almost a hint of the sea. In the mouth: acidity RULES. It dances and struts its stuff pulling up more of the lemon peel and minerality. Long finish and the glass is back at your mouth before you know. I am spitting this stuff? No way. This is pure lovin'.Ideal pairing: oysters from Chiloe ; or sashimi .

2. Ventolero 2005 : A pet project of winemaker extraordinaire Ignacio Recaubarren (does everything he touch turn to gold?) located in the micro valley slightly inland known as Leyda. This was last summer's discovery. The 2005 is still out and drinking now BETTER than last year. Why? High acidity and low pH means these Sauvignon Blancs can hold for easily a couple years and continue to get better. On the nose: I always smell flint or gun powder and lemon zest. In the mouth: d-e-l-i-c-i-o-u-s. it is an elegant wine. it has a lot to say but is not flashy. Medium length finish. Seconds?. Ideal pairing: Chilean razor clams; gazpacho.

3. Kingston Family Vineyards: Cariblanco 2006 : Okay, technically this is the cold far southwest corner of Casablanca but its climate, and wines, are similar in style to San Antonio. The investment of a Chilean-American family, the head winemaker, Bryon Kosuge (ex-winemaker at Saintbury in Carneros), definitely made a quantum leap with the 2006 Cariblanco (2004 had a LOT of residual sugar for my taste). Kingston is one of the few wineries in Chile making Sauvignon Blanc in stainless steel barrels which adds some body and complexity due to the stirring of the lees. The wine is very, very pale in color. On the nose: very citrusy, some floral and mineral notes. Very aromatic and inviting. In the mouth: the wine came to life with bright fruit and acidity. Elegant but understated. You can buy this in the US from them directly as they export everything (the irony!!! boohoo!!). To get on their mailing list go to: http://www.kingstonvineyards.com . Ideal pairing: ceviche or chevre-style goat chese 

4. Matetic Vineyards: EQ Sauvignon Blanc 2005 : This Sauvignon Blanc is dear to my heart as it is a style and taste I know very well. With our wine tours, we frequently visit Matetic so this Sauvignon Blanc and its personality have come one of our favorite house wines. Everyone simply loves it. The key? They kept it simple, honest, and fresh. On the nose you have lush fruit that ranges from ripe kiwis to grapefruit and some rocks (think of standing in their zen garden and grating a lemon). In the mouth: vibrant acidity with good volume (body) and a long, long, LONG finish. This is another example of a Sauvignon Blanc that can hold and combine with nearly any food (we have tried...). Ideal pairing: any seafood, goat cheese with apricot chutney, salad, anything really! 

5. Garcés Silva: Amayna 2006 : This Sauvignon Blanc style is quite atypical with the rest of the bunch because of its volume (body) in the mouth. It fills and rounds it out completely almost like viognier. On the nose, this year has concentrated fruit like pears, grapefruit, and kiwi with (a little more swishing) a distinct gun powder (flint) smell. In the mouth, it characteristic dense texture with concentrated with fruit and mineral notes. This is a "big" Sauvignon Blanc so bring on the appropriate food. Ideal pairing: seared bay scallops (with or without gratin)

6. Casa Marin: Laurel Vineyard 2006: The sister vineyard on the bottom part of the hill, this wine is made exactly the same as Los Cipreses but is totally different. Ask Maria Luz why and she will give you on answer: "Terroir". It's not as cold, windy, the fruit expresses itself differently. The result? In the nose: really ripe fruit like white peaches or lychees that gets mixed up with mineral notes. In the mouth: that dazzling acidity that for me characterizes Casa Marin (mostly terroir but also Maria Luz's talent) and intense fruit and mineral concentration. Long and delicious. Not the "younger" sister at all of Los Cipreses--we find that people either like one or the other. You can see where my first and foremost loyalty is though!.Ideal pairing: oysters; or tiradito (Peruvian sashimi laced with key limes and chilies)

7. Catralá: Sauvignon Blanc 2006: Another Casablanca candidate that is wedged into a cold outpost on the last ridge before Valparaiso , since they fit the boutique producer profile, I decided to include it. It also shares many of the characteristics that I look for in the above Sauvignon Blancs. It is straight forward, fresh, clean, and easy to drink. On the nose: lemon, grapefruit and minerality--it smells "clean" and vitalizing. In the mouth: it has crisp acidity and is refreshing. It goes down easily and is drinkable with food. Ideal pairing: mussels with saffron-tomato broth and fresh herbs

January/February 2007

When it comes to Indian food, what the majority of the world considers as authentic, being most of the food served in restaurants is in essence Northern Indian cuisine; a meat-based cuisine passed down from the Mogul empire that invaded India in the 16th century. With them, the Moguls brought their rich, succulent carnivore dishes laden with cream, dried fruits, and nuts. However, what’s less known is that India, made up of some 30 states and territories is more diverse (or so they say) than all the European countries. Each one has its own history, culture, festivals, and obviously, gastronomy. The foreign influences in India have also been strong and varied from the Arabs, Turks, Moguls, British (their great contribution to cuisine were the chutneys and pickles), Portuguese, and French. All left their imprint in the regional cuisines, including the vegetarian fare which plays a fundamental role in the gastronomic identity of the Hindu communities in the north and south.

Born and raised a continent away from India, my personal connection with the country and its culture were via “virtual” culinary voyages that began in my childhood. I first dragged my parents to dine in Indian restaurants whenever possible to try the exotic flavors (a novelty in sleepy central Pennsylvania). Later in high school I made friends with Priya, whose parents were from Delhi. She would frequently invite me to eat at their home and on my dinner visits; her parents would literally bless me with their luscious food that exploded in my mouth, full of new flavors and sensations I never had tried before. Priya would scold her mother about “making that stuff again”, and would bellyache about preferring real “American” food like Burger King. In disbelief, I wondered how a mediocre hamburger could even compare to the freshly made puris with green chutney or the sour chickpeas that her mother was serving. I had died and gone to heaven. On one of my visits, her parents explained to me that for them as Hindus, food and the physical place of the kitchen were sacred; and that the role of food in Indians’ spiritual life was extremely important—everything was prepared with an eye looking towards God. It was an offering of their service to friends and family who shared that same food. Priya's father got up from the table and walked to their cupboard. Opening it, I saw that there were printed images of gods and goddesses, a small statue of Ganesh, some incense and other ritual objects. “In many traditional families in India”, he said, “The chefs are trained as priests and hail from the Brahman class. Each morning they prepare the first food for the family—both for praying and eating.” I was fascinated. Eating was their temple.

Many years later, Indian food is still my favorite cuisine and one I make regularly at home; even more since moving to Chile where Indian food is still greatly unknown. A typical Indian dinner is an impressive assortment of curries made from meat, poultry, and seafood; tandooris (clay oven which gives the food its characteristic flavor); dhal (legumes such as orange lentils); breads like chapattis or naan and of course, basmati rice; all of these always accompanied by condiments such as chutneys, pickles and the refreshing raita (natural yogurt beat with grated cucumber). In general, although Indian food is heavily spiced and can be spicy (above all in the Southern regions), but it is also balanced and produces equilibrium in your mouth when the different flavors are eaten together: savory-spicy-delicious. The preparation of these classic dishes can be laborious and require a Buddha’s patience for the hours, or even days, required to infuse the different layers. These layers create its inherent complexity that comes together as “one” taste later. Much of Indian cuisine’s pungency comes from first frying the spices in ghee (clarified butter) or vegetable oil which release the spices’ aromas and essential oils while intensifying and concentrating the flavors. This first step is the base on which the entire dish is built, including the addition of meats, vegetables, and paneer cheese. Although it may take hours and much focus to let these dishes cook slowly and completely, when I step into the kitchen to make Indian food, the outside world falls away. I become totally engrossed in the aromas and textures; I focus solely on the sensations of chopping the vegetables; I concentrate only on measuring liquids and grinding spices methodically; I am utterly absorbed in the process and time, for a while, is transcended and actually stops. And then, boom, the dishes are almost ready and I began to see and smell the fruits of my labor. Despite usually standing and working for hours, I am almost never tired. Actually, after I finish cooking I feel relaxed, thankful, and looking forward to sharing the food with my guests who will arrive. In the cooking process, more than deep flavors are infused; positive energy and affection also get intertwined with the spices.

Reflecting now and remembering the word’s of Priya’s parents about the importance of food and the kitchen in Indian spirituality, I realize that the kitchen has also become my sacred place. My cooking sessions there truly are a form of meditation and connecting with myself and the divinity inside; that is, if the definition of meditation is to be present in the moment with your thoughts concentrated and mind void of extraneous ideas. The belief and capacity of the Indian culture to see the little “God” (or Goddess) inside each one of us and view food as an offering and act of that love is also beautiful, moving, and meaningful. There is an Indian saying, “atithi deva bhaav”, which means that when a guest enters your house, God enters with him. At least in my experience, this is the essence of Indian spirituality, their loving hospitality and their luscious food. So the next time you sit down to enjoy a home cooked Indian meal, remember there is more than spices and flavor imparted in your meal—there is also a lot of good vibes.

Probé por primera vez los porotos granados un día caluroso de enero en “sótano” del Bar Nacional, una picada-institución en el centro de Santiago que frecuentaba a la hora de almuerzo. Mi compañero de mesa ese día me convenció que había que probarlos ya que era uno de los platos más sinóminos del verano en Chile. Llegó a la mesa una fuente envuelto en vapor muy arómatico; una mezcla herbácea-pimentosa de albahaca con notas dulces por el choclo y zapallo, mezclado con los aromas clásicos de porotos. Cada bocado se derritía y los sabores sútiles habían logrado fusionarse perfectamente y en su punto. El resultado fue en un guiso absolutamente exquisito pero muy, muy simple en su construcción. Estaba fascinada!

A poco tiempo, los porotos granados se convertieron en mi plato ícono de la temporada y mis ganas por aprender a hacerlo en casa crecían con las visitas a la feria donde dominaban las pilas de porotos, choclos frescos, zapallos enteros y la albahaca en todas partes. Varios caseros vendían “paquetes listos” que contenían porotos pelados, zapallo picado, y una rama de albahaca. Entendiendo que ésto conformaba la base para el plato, les pedí algunas sugerencias para mi experimento culinario. “Mi hijita, sólo tienes que rallar los choclitos, colocar todo en una fuente, cubrir con agua y listo en 20 minutos”. Sonaba un poco reduccionista así que consulté a mi suegra quien confirmó la preparación básica pero sugería sofreir la cebolla, reemplazar caldo casero por el agua y agregar una pizca de ají de color para potenciar el sabor.

Varios experimentos (existosos) después, tengo mi propia receta casera; parecida seguramente a la tradicional pero con algunos ajustes propios como la adición de hierbas frescas picadas, pebre y/o merkén al momento de servirlo. La clave de este plato sencillo es la nobleza de los ingredientes primarios. Deben ser locales, cosechados en su maduración justa cuando están dulces, tiernas, lechosas, y explotando con todo el sabor e intensidad del verano. Así se logra esa sutileza de sobres harmónicos y concentrados. Hace poco hice porotos granados y mi novio apreció de repente en la cocina, atraida por los buenos olores. Sacando la tapa de la olla olía profundamente, se reía y dijo, “hmmm....porotos granados caseros hechos por una gringa”. Bueno, algunos platos son transcendentales--y simplemente divinos.

Con la temporada de verano llegando, las tardes suelen pasarse en la compañía de mi pareja o buenos amigos, disfrutandos unos cocktails ricos al aire libre. De todos los tragos, mi favorito es el martini—o bueno, el vodkatini técnicamente. Es un trago muy puro y no miento, se siente algo sexy por su copa.

El martini perfecto es algo elusivo. Es increible para un trago que sólo contiene un par de ingredientes, gin (o vodka en mi caso) y vermouth, es tan díficil encontrar uno bien hecho. Suelen ser pasados de vermouth, usando un alcohol de calidad inferior que resulta en una caña terrible, o hasta hacer innovaciones creativas que no corresponden. Soy de la vieja escuela de los martinis: seco con tres aceitunas por favor. Cómo mi búsqueda no rinde muy seguido los frutos deseados, he encontrado la solución: Mejor que lo prepare yo. Aquí es como hacer un martini, o vodkatini, perfecto.

Primero, reinan los ingredientes de primera calidad. No hay nada para mascarar un alcohol de mala calidad en este trago. Si van a hacer uno, no es el tiempo para ahorrarse unas lucas en el alcohol más barato. Se lo seguro que su cuerpo les cobrará después. También no dejen de lado un buen vermouth. El ratio de gin/vodka a vermouth es de suma importancia. La idea es hacer un trago muy seco; seco referiendose al ratio de gin/vodka siendo más alto que el vermouth. El ratio a 3-1 funciona muy bien.

Para preparar, en una copa de martini fría, enjugarla con el vermouth y botar lo adicional. En una coctelera de acero inoxidable, agregar bastante hielo y la porción de gin/vodka. Agitar o revolver rapidamente, la idea es enfríar el alcohol sin diluirlo. Tiene que ser muy frío.

Para servir, colocar un “twist” de limón o las aceitunas en la copa y vertir el alcohol enfriado, colando (no se sirve con hielo). Disfruta y cheers!