If you’ve checked back since my last post, you may have noticed some small changes to this blog. Most importantly, it now has a name! While I’m deeply proud of my name and heritage, “Aaron Epstein” doesn’t really give any hints as to the theme of my work, nor does it show up on any internet search not seeking me out specifically.

So, ladies and gentleman, welcome to “Vino e Vita!”

While I work hard to tackle the complex topic of my next article, I’ve elected to do something else new: I hereby present you with the first ever guest posting on my site.

I heard the following tale several weeks ago when I stopped to talk to a couple of friendly British visitors to The Vines of Mendoza’s tasting room. My brief conversation with Tim and Richard resulted in quite a few laughs, as well as my begging them for a written version of this story so that I could share it. Whether or not you are familiar with the specific parties involved, I hope you find it as amusing I did. It also provides some real insight into the Mendoza wine scene - it’s not for nothing that they’re calling this “The New Napa Valley…”

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One day, while I sat in the local pub with some friends, we were discussing what we might do with our four weeks annual leave, which was fast approaching. I aired the idea that Argentina might be an interesting adventure. Why, you ask? Was it the culture, the Tango, the nightlife? A little of all of these perhaps, but also the opportunity to sample wines from one of the worlds most innovative and exciting wine regions. After I arrived in Buenos Aires I booked the bus trip traversing the country to Mendoza – synonymous with Argentina’s national grape: Malbec. The journey was not an easy one due to Argentina’s current economic unease, and the farmers had set up a number of roadblocks along the way. After a bus ride that should have lasted 13 hours swiftly turned into 22, I reached Mendoza.

During the course of my first evening, while inquiring as to the best way to taste the local wine, I was introduced to Richard. A British expat who had been living in Mendoza for the past 18 months, he had recently started running tastings in local hostels, showcasing wines to travellers passing through the city.  Infected with my enthusiasm he offered to accompany me on a journey through some of the local wineries. With somewhat fuzzy memories of the previous evening and almost impossible-to-remove purple stains on our lips we hopped into his car and headed out along the long signpost-less roads to the Valley de Uco, in the shadow of the magnificent snow-covered Andes rising imposingly from Mendoza’s otherwise flat landscape. Our first stop was the Tapiz winery, where we sampled their wines straight out of their stainless steel tanks, guided by one of their very knowledgeable and passionate members of staff. Having shaken off our hangovers and now armed with a number of bottles of their reserve reds we headed towards our next appointment, at the Pulenta estate.

On the way we decided to stop for some lunch at La Barrica, a curious restaurant situated in an unassuming service station by the side of the road, but one with a reputation for good quality food for hungry wine travellers. As it was off-season the restaurant was virtually abandoned and the waiter seemed to have decided that we were both going to have the lunchtime special, refusing to allow us to order anything else. All for an easy life, we went along with him and ordered a bottle of Familia Gascon Reserva Cabernet 2004 to accompany our meal. When the wine arrived Richard tasted it, and a look of both confusion and disappointment came over his face. One of those awfully awkward restaurant moments ensued; something about the wine wasn’t right. The waiter, eager to get on with his job, plonked the bottle down and left us to decide what. We both have some wine experience in the wine industry, but when we smelled this bottle we couldn’t put our finger on what was wrong with it. It wasn’t obviously corked or oxidized; there was some fruit there, but it wasn’t as it should be.

Hearing American accents drift over from the table behind us, Richard concluded that two Americans in an empty restaurant in the middle of June, miles from everywhere except Argentine wine country, must be in the business. He walked up to their table, armed with our suspicious wine, apologized for disturbing them, and asked politely if they were in the wine trade. Unsurprisingly the answer was affirmative. Richard asked if they would mind just smelling our wine and seeing if they could determine what was wrong with it.

“You haven’t even introduced yourselves yet”, said one coolly. By this point I was standing next to Richard and we introduced ourselves, slightly sheepishly.

“Hi, I’m Paul Hobbs” he said as he shook our hands. There was a brief pause in our conversation as somewhere in the depths of both of our brains we felt something click into place. “I consult for various wineries, including this one.” Taking our dodgy wine he said, “It’s just old, passed its best.” Armed with this knowledge, we thanked them and returned to our table. We looked at each other with identical, vaguely confused expressions.

“Did he say Paul Hobbs? I’ve heard of him…” mused Richard, and I agreed that I had too. We realized that our somewhat cool reception may have resulted from the fact that as a very recognizable member of the wine industry he probably gets asked quite regularly for his opinion on wines, although our encounter was purely accidental! As we were talking an almost full bottle of wine landed on our table. “Here, try this”, he said, “It’s one of mine”.  Thanking him profusely, we enjoyed the rest of our meal accompanied by a 2005 La Garto Merlot, donated by Paul Hobbs himself.

Contributed by Tim Crocker-Buque and Richard Graham

Note: For those of you who are curious about LaGarto, as of the recent 2007 release it is called Felino and  is currently available in the United States with this new label. 

June 30th, 2008 | vita, vino | No comments

It’s been brought to my attention that I was remiss in my last post - all this talk about my favorite food, and no mention of what to drink with it!

I’m here today to put this to rights.

Now, food and wine pairing is rather a touchy subject, and one that I find somewhat intimidating to write about. Despite the traditional ‘marriages’ of oysters and Chablis, steak and Cabernet (or Malbec, in my neck of the woods), the exercise of matching food and wine is fundamentally subjective. As people discover wine for the first time, especially young people,  they care far less for convention than for what they’ve been turned on to, and what they love to eat. When I was working in retail and people asked what wine to pair with X dish, more often than not my response was “well, what wine do you like?”

In that spirit, this will be relatively brief, and more about my own tastes than studied pairings.

As far as what to drink with spicy food, (for the purposes of this analysis, let’s imagine a plate of Thai Curry in front of us) I believe that there are basically two ways one can go. In simple terms - either something sweet to balance the burn, or bone-dry to cut right through it. In either case, I prefer COLD wine - sparkling, white, or rosé.

(Of course, while this may not be the proper forum to mention it, there is always beer. The most classic of alcoholic thirst quenchers and fire extinguishers, the most reliable, and certainly the most accessible, you will never go wrong with a beer or 3 to calm the fire. I’d say a nice light lager, but it’s up to you.)

If you noticed the photo at the bottom of my last post (I got some amusing mixed feedback about the pic) you may have noticed the champagne flutes in the foreground. This exemplifies my current favorite - a dry sparkler cleanses the palate under any circumstances, so even better when your mouth is on fire! Ideally Extra Brut or Brut Nature (meaning little or no residual sugar in the wine) the dryness will cool the embers on your tongue and the bubbles will help clean it off nicely.

On the opposite end of the spectrum you have off-dry white wines such as Riesling or Gewurztraminer, typically from Germany or Alsace (in the northeast of France). Off-dry means not completely dry, but not sweet enough to be a proper desert wine, and from my experience this is the category that is most commonly recommended as an accompaniment for spicy fare. A good sweet wine is balanced by a zesty acidity, and some of the best ones out there are also blessed with unique minerality. The sugar and acidity may not decrease the burn much, but they will provide equilibrium and allow you to treasure the heat if you’re feeling masochistic.

The same spirit can be applied to any pairing. It is fascinating to explore which wine goes best with which dish, to discover the manifold flavors that can be drawn out of one glass - and there is surely no better way to expand your palate and deepen your understanding of flavor. A fun and relatively inexpensive way to do this at home is simple: pick up a bottle of wine that you’ve been curious about, as well as your favorite meats and cheeses. Sample them together - alternate a taste of wine with a nibble of each edible. Observe how the flavors evolve, and how your perception changes with each morsel.

For me, much of the joy of dining creatively is the pleasure of coming up with an imaginative and appropriate union of food and wine. For a chef, sommelier, or daring diner, there’s nothing quite like taking a bite, then a sip, and experiencing perfect harmony on the palate.

June 22nd, 2008 | gastronomia, vino | 3 comments

I think it’s time I confessed it: I am an addict. Not booze, not drugs… my current vice is SPICE.

I’m not talking about dunes and sandworms here, it’s a scorched palate and breath of fire that I crave. And it’s in shockingly low supply here in Mendoza, Argentina.

Most North Americans, when they think of South American food, associate it with lots of spice. The truth of the matter (sad, for us food obsessed expats) is that THIS far south…. not so much.

I have a theory that it’s latitudinal, with heat decreasing in reverse correlation with distance from the equator;  there is as little heat in typical Argentine cuisine as there is in… German schnitzel. (Which there also happens to be a hell of a lot of here, under the pseudonym ‘milanesa.’)

(Brief geeky tangent: Mendoza’s latitude is 33S. For comparison: New York City is 40N, Paris - 48N. At 40S, you’re almost in Patagonia. Major points go to whoever can tell me which major North American city is at 33N… just don’t publicly disprove my theory. And it doesn’t count if you use Google Earth.)

Now, food wise, what the Argentines do well, they do VERY well. The meat here is incomparable, as are the empanadas (especially when you find really good ones). There is yummy fresh pasta, and I’ve never known anybody to put as much love into a sandwhich as Mendocinos (except for possibly Uruguayans). Furthermore, as a life-long salt fiend I love to watch the asador (grill master) coat each cut of beef with salt before throwing it on the parilla (grill). My friends (and my doctor) can all vouch for this.

However, the seasoning options just about end there. Call me what you will - ‘food snob’ is one I’ve heard more than a couple of times, as is ’spoiled brat’ - but I’ve been overindulged by culinary variety for far too long. I grew up in one of the most diverse parts of the American “melting pot”, spent a year living in Northern Italy’s culinary capital, and then to top it all off spent years working in the New York City restaurant scene.

What can I say - I’m a product of my experience. For better or worse, my experience contains a lot of ‘ese’ - Chinese, Japanese… also Mexican, Thai, and Indian. I never knew how much I loved all of these things until I was faced with their absence. Now that there’s no Thai delivery and take-out sushi in my life, I cook with chili peppers every chance I get. When I go to Buenos Aires for the weekend, I take the opportunity to torture my taste buds as much as possible.

Not really the best policy for somebody who makes a living from tasting wine, but I already admitted to having a problem. In this case, rather than recovery, acceptance is the first step towards gratification.

To best profit from the more varied culinary scene in Argentina’s capital, I stuff as much ethnic food into my mouth as possible. (I even made my parents meet me for Moroccan food on their very first night in Buenos Aires!) Recently my top choice has been Vietnamese - not actually something I had much exposure to before coming here. Thank you to Sudestada, a spectacular southeast Asian fusion restaurant in Palermo (blending primarily Vietnamese and Thai) I learned what I’ve been missing. I will honestly say that Sudestada is currently my favorite restaurant in the world.

Here on the home front I stick with the aforementioned Argentine classics: more meat than is good for me, and empanadas from the one place in town with ‘carne picante’ that actually burns. I’ve started frequenting Mendoza’s central market which has not only an impressive selection of meats and cheeses, but also vegetable stands that carry technicolored chili peppers. Despite the limited resources I have at my disposal, I manage to stoke the flames of my addiction.

June 18th, 2008 | gastronomia, vita | 6 comments