Dinning Out The Little Howl

It took me a little while, a year and a half, to finally go and pay my respect to Joey Campanaro, Chef/Owner of the Little Owl in the West Village. I met Joey several years ago when he was working at The Harrison, a restaurant right below my apartment in Tribeca. As I said I was long due to go there and savor the delicatessen Joey is capable to prepare, so Last Wednesday I'd decide to finally go and check it out. The place is fairly small but very welcoming, the kitchen is enclosed by glasses where Joey can check the dining room, there was a very inviting and enticing scent of home cooked food which in my opinion is always a good sign.
I was welcomed with a nice glass of Prosecco by Chris while Joey was waiving from behind the glass in kitchen, and after few minutes he sat us in a spacious and comfortable table, kind of amazing considering the size of the place. The menu is short but tempting I had hard time to choose from few succulent appetizer like the white risotto with egg yolk and truffles (my partner in crime choose that), the lobster soup (which was my choice), the duck breast with cranberry sauce, endive and walnut pesto or the crispy artichoke so popular that by 9 they already were out of it. The risotto was cooked to perfection (al dente) with enough white truffle on to make it a luscious plate, the lobster was flavorful with big chunks of tail in a little spicy broth. As entrees we both got the Lamb Chop; succulent, juicy, tender and flavorful. Once again the meat was perfectly cooked, served with cheese gnocchi, that almost melted in my mouth, and watercress onions salad.
To go with that I choose a nice bottle of Bordeaux Chateau de Lavaud 2004 full bodied and more new world style with some noticeable flavors of vanilla and strong fruits blending pretty well with the lamb. I must say that the Little Owl is a great little jewel hidden in the heart of the west village fairly priced that makes you feel like at home; I will soon be back to discover more from the menu.
I suggest you to make a reservation ahead of time being the space very limited; ideal for romantic dinners or small groups.
Sorry for the bad quality of the pictures I did took those with my phone...
Buona Bevuta a Tutti

BYOB

Since the conglomerated eruption of nationally franchised family restaurants in the United States in the late 1970s, the vast majority of culinary service establishments have also become purveyors of alcohol. When places like Bennigan's, T.G.I.Friday's, and later Applebee's and Outback Steakhouse began to sweep the nation in response to the rocketing popularity of fast food, they brought with them the assumption that a place where you could sit, talk, have a steak on a plate and endless soda refills was also a place where you could purchase a draft beer, a glass of white zin or a scotch and soda. (They also served as the nation's chief harbinger of obesity, heart disease and deepening lack of respect for culinary proficiency; this however, is another topic for another day.)

Restaurants have more or less continued to cater to the slow-food crowd's propensity for drinking with dinner, partially because it's a relatively painless service to provide, and mostly because alcohol profits make up large portions of restaurant revenues (particularly in New York City, beverage bills often comprise well over half of a restaurant's profit margin). Some would consider the standard restaurant markup on a gin and tonic or a bottle of Bud akin to highway robbery, but considering the brusque and hefty expenses an establishment incurs to simply serve alcohol, those robberies may very well be as reasonable as the market will allow.

Aside from the costs of storing and maintaining various products, a restaurant must also apply for and be granted a legal permit to serve alcohol (in layman's tongue, a liquor license) by their state's Liquor Authority. In some states, this process is fairly painless and expedient; in others it is, in a word, not. The state of New York happens to fall into the latter category, and with over six thousand alcohol-serving restaurants in New York City alone, not only is the process of obtaining a liquor license mind-numbingly complicated, it often takes the lifespan of a hamster to complete. For some, this time is a liability build in to opening a restaurant - it is unavoidable, and must be factored into an establishment's creation. For others, an alternative concept (and the true subject of this edition of the De-Vino Times) is more enticing: BYOB.

The acronym BYOB was popularized in the 1950s, but it's become a household staple on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, where BYOB restaurants and cafes have flourished for years. On Clinton Street in particular, Cube 63 is haven for the concept as well as The Orchard and Subo. It benefits both the proprietor and the patron, allowing one to showcase food, fun and atmosphere while the other can still enjoy a glass of wine, a beer or a cocktail at a negligible relative cost (often up to 200% less than in a restaurant where liquor is served). These BYOB places are win-win, and should be experienced frequently and fervently.

Speaking of which... one of the best Italian restaurants in the city, Il Bagatto, is now granting permission for BYOB on Tuesday nights - with no corkage fee. This is an opportunity not to be missed, especially with De-Vino only two blocks away! Imagine the warm, busting atmosphere, a rich plate of Osso Buco, and a bottle of Brunello that cost less than half of what it would have any other night; I don't know if I could bring myself to miss a BYOB night at a place with food that succulent.

Il Bagatto is located at 190 2nd St, near Avenue B. It is two blocks north of De-Vino. Reservations can be made at (212) 228-0977.
Happy BYOB dining!

My Dumb Period

A while ago Eric Asimov wrote an article about the dumb period in wine, a particular time window in the course of a wine's life where the flavors disappear, hiding under an umbrella of tannins and tartaric acid.
It's a funny thing... every few years, that happens to my palate as well - a three or four-day period where everything seems to taste bitter and metallic.
Last night, a customer and I were having a chat about specific wines and how many times you have to drink a bottle to really understand it. He told me that in some cases, the wine will taste different almost every time, and though the food they were eating might have played a role, he was convinced that the inconsistency had to be deeper than that. As a matter of fact, there most certainly is; smell is the most corruptible of the senses, especially when talking about wine. The brain processes the information altering the interpretation based on experience or external influences.
I read an article a little while ago in an Italian newspaper that showed proof that the brain can exert influence over taste, i.e. your brain can make you taste things differently. Other senses can also interfere, e.g. certain colors and shape might induce us to think about bitter and sweet flavors.
In reality, even one's mood can affect taste, as well as certain medicines (antibiotics are deadly for the palate). Personal experience showed me that if I'm upset about something, things tend to taste more metallic; when distracted things are duller and acidic; and when I'm tired, they are sour and bitter. A good friend with a very fine palate once told me that tasting is an art and a gift that not everybody has. He made an analogy with a runner saying that most of us are able to run for 1oo yards, but very few of us can do it under 10 seconds, and considering how many years it took me to achieve a sufficient palate, I can relate. I guess a good taster is not just the one that can spot a flavor but is somebody that can filter all the interference that the information finds during the trip from the nose to the brain.
Buona Bevuta a Tutti

Did you know...

...that in Montalcino in the late 70s the Mariani brothers, owners of Banfi, asked all the farmers in the area to plant Moscadello instead of Sangiovese?
The story of the Mariani in Montalcino is controversial, as their influence could have had a significant destructive effect on one of the best wines in the world - the Brunello di Montalcino.
In the late 70s, John and Henry Mariani bought 1,800 hectares in southwest part of Montalcino, a property that would soon expand to 2,830 hectares. They also built a humongous cellar and restored the castle for a cost of 200 billion of the old Lire. The two brothers made their fortune selling Lambrusco in the States, and their business plan was concentrated in making Moscadello frizzante, a sweet slightly fizzy white wine, and selling it in the USA to reply to the success of the Lambrusco.
They planted 350 Hectares with Moscadello, which is a marginal grape for Montalcino's climate and soils. They also made mistakes in choosing the training system for the vines, selecting one that didn't allowed the grapes to be exposed to the sun. And worst of all, they even asked the other growers, during an open city board meeting, to replace their Sangiovese in favor of the Moscadello, promising to buy the grapes from them. If it hadn't been for people like Piero Talenti, who at the time was in charge of Il Poggione, Franco Biondi Santi and many others who refused the offer, Brunello di Montalcino may have ceased to exist - forever. But because those that loved and had a much better understanding of the area kept their Sangiovese, one of Tuscany's signature wines remains intact.
The story's aftermath tells us that the steadfast Tuscan farmers were right to keep their Sangiovese. The Mariani brothers couldn't really sell much of their formerly promising sparkling wine, and eventually eradicated the Moscadello and planted Sangiovese.
Today Banfi is the biggest producer in Montalcino. Their lands are in the lowest and the flattest part of Montalcino, which is not ideal in any way for vineyards. Yet still, they are known around the world to be synonymous with Brunello di Montalcino, even though they tried to wipe out the Sangiovese, the very grapes used to create Brunello.
That is why I usually choose not to comment when I hear about how much good Banfi did for Montalcino, and for the promotion of Brunello di Montalcino around the world. While all of that might just as well be true, the fact remains: if it had been left up to the Mariani brothers, we would not have any Brunello today, whatsoever.
Buona Bevuta a Tutti

Italy Goes Fast!!!

Following the amazing victory of the Ducati in MotoGP, today Ferrari topped the two wheeled cousins this weekend in Brasil with Raikkonen win in a dramatic last grand prix of the season, that got him the world champion title against all odds.
Congratulations!!!

Help Us To Help You

My last post garnered a series of funny comments, which was its intention. But it also solicited a request for help from Malcolm H on what might be the RIGHT questions to ask when you need suggestions for a bottle of wine.
General speaking, common sense is the first and foremost consideration to keep in mind. Remember that you are asking for help, and even though the person in front of you is there to help you, you can improve the outcome of the situation significantly by doing nothing more than keeping it real.
If you don't know anything about what you'd like to buy, a good place to start is having at least few simple specifications, like the color (red, white, rose or sparkling) and /or price range (which is a very valuable piece of information in a market where a single format carries such a vast spectrum of value). Trust me, just those simple hints are of great help.
If you are looking for a specific taste, try to describe it (light, medium, heavy, sweet, dry, tannic, velvety etc etc etc). If you just say, "I like Merlot," you are not offering any valuable information, because the same grape (especially with an international varietal like Merlot) can create completely different wines, depending on the soil and the grower. Comment #3 from Lyle gave an example of a lot of quantifiers that are more confusing then helpful - specificity is the key in this situation. Lyle's next comment brings up another very good point - it is a regular occurrence to have someone come in, name a restaurant and ask if I know what wine they drank. To be perfectly honest, I don't think is possible to answer a question like that even if you know all the lists of every Manhattan restaurant (or Prague in Lyle's case). Restaurants' lists do not remain static, and sometimes number into the tens of thousands of bottles. There's just no way.
If you say that a certain wine was "delicious," obviously you liked it and that's why you are looking for it, but you're not offering anything specific about the wine (anyhow these are some tips I wrote a little while ago on what to do to remember a wine that you liked).
Asking about favorites could be a way to go but make sure that you and your wine adviser share similar taste.
Another suggestion I can give you is to build a relationship with your chosen wine expert. Try to talk with the same person every time you seek out a recommendation - after a little time your wine guy will understand your taste, based on the wines you liked or disliked. This relationship can shorten the buying process to something as quick as: "I have 4 people for dinner; I like some red and some white and I like to spend X amount of money. Please include Y as one of the bottles."
One last thought - with wine, especially if you are in a restaurant or a shop where the lists are carefully selected, you get what you pay for. This means it's probably a little self-defeating to ask for something like Domaine de la Romanee Conti for $10, because that doesn't exist.

May I ask a question???

I've wanted to write about this for a long time, and today seemed to be the right day to do it - the chronicle of silly questions asked in the world of wine and food. I'm not sure why, but for how long food and wine have been around (always), they certainly seem to merit a staggering array of bonehead remarks and requests. Sometimes, the questions aren't even about the food or wine... they're just inane. Herein, a small sampling:
Among the top ten I've ever been asked was this one, from my days behind the register at Il Bagatto, where one of my duties was to answer the phone. In my closing salutation at the end of a reservation call, I gave the address of the restaurant saying:
"we are located on 2nd street between avenues A and B, closer to B." Pretty clear directions, I'd say. So one day, I'm taking a reservation, and I give the address of the restaurant, and the voice on the other end of the line said "Where is second street?" I paused for a second, trying to find an answer that didn't sound rude. "It's between 1st and 3rd streets," I said. She thanked me and hung up... and was hopefully able to find 1st or 3rd street.
The restaurant was an infinite source of amazing questions like, "what are Funghi (she said "fungiai")?" "Mushrooms," I replied. The woman looked at the her date, puzzled, and the date looked at me, puzzled. I did my best to explain... "you know - mushrooms; they grow in the dirt... usually in the fall, when it's very damp..." Hopeless. The guy looked at the girl, the girl looked back at me, and ordered Gnocchi.

Also since I opened the store I've had to answer to a fair amount of poorly thought-out questions like:

"Do you have Tuscany?"
"Do you mean Tuscan wines?"
"No, no the wine has Tuscany was written on the label."
Really.

"Where are your reds?"
(For those unfamiliar with the layout of De-Vino, the northern wall of the store is approximately thirty feet by twelve feet, covered floor to ceiling with red wines. This question is usually glorified with a gesture in the general direction of that wall.)

"Do you have a bottle of wine, red or white, in the $ 20 range that will be different?"
This is a poorly formed question for any occasion, and rather than delving into what the wine should differ FROM, I decided that I preferred the silence and gave her a bottle of Sangiovese-Syrah from San Giminiano. I'm pretty sure that was different.

"What is the theme of your store?"
This one is a recurring question that I have learned to translate as, "What types of wines/which appelations do you stock?" It makes a fair amount of sense, I suppose, but it seems to me that the word "theme" should be reserved for literary critiques and bachelorette parties.

(Referring to an indigenous Italian grape) "How does this compare to, I don't know, a Cabernet or a Merlot?"
No comment.

"Do you have a pinot?"
"Yes. Several." (Unless you mean the colloquial French translation of a "pinot," which is a pinecone. Then no.)

And one of the most common requests of all: " Can you suggest something red? I usually like Merlot, Syrah and Cabernet... you know, something light?"
Light? News to me. - After few seconds I was able to process and translate the request and suggest an old vines Cotes du Rhone or an Italian Pinot Noir.

I think if I continue onward and upward, I might never stop. I would love, however, to hear some of your experiences of similar caliber.

Buona Risposta a Tutti