wine with lulu: navarra

Maybe Marti was taking note of my 'un tinto' drink orders whenever out for a pintxo, or possibly the sound of a bottle of red opening on a nightly basis? Either way, Marti asked me last week if I was interested doing weekly write-ups on Spanish wine. Of course, I accepted.

Mind you-I'm a broke barista from Los Angeles who drinks 2-Buck-Chuck. In San Sebastian, I will fully defend my wino tendencies. My days here are limited and all that haunts me is how many bottles I'll be able to smuggle into the states. Because let's face it, for 10 euros it's like you're drinking a wine from Bacchus himself. Having access to *very affordable quality wines and those that are not available outside of Spain is heavenly for this gal. One must take full advantage of what Europeans take for granted.

Every Wednesday we'll be sharing a wine from the many regions of Spain. I'm here to give you the run-down on the regions-basic info on the bottle and our tasting experience. This week we compared two bottles from the same vineyard. The first, a 'Reserva' blend and the second a full Garnacha.

BOTTLE ONE
Bodega: Domino Lasierpe (est. 1920)
Name: Flor de la Sierpe - seleccion Los fieles
Region: Navarra
Year: 2000
Grape: tempranillo, graciano, cabernet sauvignon, merlot

This vineyard is located in the navarra region which is just south-west of San Sebastian and boarders up to the south eastern part of France. The capital of the navarra is Pamplona. 'Reserva' aka 'old vine' basically means it's aged longer before being sold. Now the blends... Tempranillo is a full bodied red wine native to Spain. It has high aromas + flavors including berries, plum, vanilla. Graciano is another Spanish red grape common as a low 'yield' on a vineyard. Meaning not much of it is grown, it ages and blends well.
Obviously Cabernet Sauvignon is most common due to it's ability to grow in a variety of climates. The cab claims that 'oak' taste. And merlot, also a popular medium body grape to grow for easy blending with it's berry,plum, and currant flavors.

After opening bottle 1 the first thing I pegged in the aroma was the Oak, maybe higher cab percentage? I also couldn't ignore the high alcohol content 13.5%. that smell and taste of ' I'm hung over already' but it's rich taste and aroma of dark berries it drank with little to no dryness or lingering of an aftertaste. Following day second helping was even more splendid after she had time to breathe - enriched flavors and mellowed her out.

BOTTLE TWO:

Bodega: Dominio Lasierpe (est. 1920)
Name: Garnacha Vinas Viejas
Region: Navarra
Year: 2007
Grape: 100% Garnacha aka Tinto

Garnacha is the most commonly used grape here in Spain. It was noted on this bottle that this wine spent 10 months in french oak barrels before being bottled and sold.
This bottle surprisingly I enjoyed more considering it's 7 years junior to bottle one. Much lighter in aroma, berry and currant flavored with lightly woody. Also the same notable alcohol content 13.5% I enjoyed this bottle more as a 'drink alone' type. She's doesn't need to be tamed and paired with food. Does that make sense? Anywho, better as well after breathing.

So, there you have it! I highly suggest both but for my liking and single behavior lifestyle... Bottle 2 wins!

Till next week!

Gobble-Gobble,
-lulu

san fermín: pamplona, navarra

It's the legendary fiesta, what people know about Spain if they know anything beyond Madrid and Barcelona. It's San Fermín, known in its 9ish day entirety as sanfermines, and it's a huge, crazy party. Commemorated and made famous by Hemingway in his awesome book The Sun Also Rises, it's known of and attended by people across the world. It's Spanish town festival meets Mardi Gras meets a bull fight meets Panama City Beach. With everyone in red and white (stained, of course with vino tinto/kalimotxo/sangria).

We attended the party this weekend, and spent 24 hours soaking up the legend. We saw the bullring, saw the wooden fences that guide the bulls in every morning at 8am for the encierro (the famed Running of the Bulls),  saw drunk people falling off of said fences....

It was touristy, and it was just what we expected, but it was also different. There were a few oases of peace  across the city, like one of my favorite tea shops from when I lived here several years ago. There was much more elbow room than we expected, and there was a general air of jollyness and a surprising feeling of safety and comradery.  All in all, it was surprisingly pleasant, much more small-town fiesta than I expected.

the gigantes, old-school parade characters representing the old royalty of the kingdom of Navarre.

descanso, with sangria and shoes off.

tables being set in the street. loitering/making party. in the grocery store.

pollo.

a sea of red and white.

the morning after. French tourist takes it upon himself to help with the street cleaning.

leaving the city. agur, san fermín, hasta el año que viene!

cooking los clásicos: costrada

 

A few weeks ago I brought you Baztan sopa, a soaked bread concoction typical of Navarra's mountain cuisine. Well it turns out those thrifty countryside folks really love their soaked bread dishes. I found a recipe for another, called costrada, and decided to try it out. 

The result? A certainty that Americans did NOT invent the breakfast casserole...this dish is toasted bread layered with chorizo and tender, pureed carrots and onions. With a few generous cupfuls of broth, you stick it in the oven and the flavors meld together. Then, to finish it off, you can top it off with a couple eggs.   Its ingredient profile is revealing: bread, root veggies, eggs, chorizo-the stuff that you have laying around the house if you live in a baserri in the mountains. It's a peasant dish. But it sure is delicious.

costrada

• about 15 thin baguette slices
• 15 thin slices of chorizo pamplona
• 2 onions, chopped
• 5 carrots, peeled and chopped
• 2 1/2 c vegetable stock
• 2-3 eggs

Toast the bread in a hot oven. Boil the onions and carrots in salted water until tender; puree. Lightly fry the chorizo in a little bit of olive oil.

To construct the dish, begin in a 8X4 or thereabouts container, layering one layer each of bread, chorizo, and vegetable puree. Repeat until all the ingredients have been used. Pour over the stock and put in 400 degree oven for about fifteen minutes. Add liquid if you see that it's getting dry.  A few minutes before it's ready, crack eggs over the top and broil until they are set.

dinner+wine in the parte vieja

Recently a few friends and I gathered for dinner and a local wine tasting with a very knowledgeable guide. Site: cozy apartment in San Sebastián's old town. Setting: a dark, cold and stormy night (hopefully one of the last of the year) Reason: To talk food, wine and everything in between.

I was charged with the appetizers and the dessert. Since I had some fresh mountain milk, I knew at once that it was time for ricotta. It's curious how closed the food borders remain in Europe, despite the fact that we are so close to Italy; there is hardly a container of ricotta in a 100-mile radius (also see bread/French border enigma). And whenever I have ricotta, my tastebuds typically throw a manifestación in favor of lily confit. So I brought that, along with some beautiful pink and white radishes, butter, and sea salt, to snack on with our welcome glass of cava.

Then we were treated to a fascinating rundown on the wine situation here.  Somehow more information was crammed into a ten-minute talk on Spanish wines than in my whole previous lifetime. And that even while being regularly peppered by constant inquiry after our attention span.

We tasted three wines: Emilio Valerio 2009, a wine from Navarra with garnache, cabernet, and merlot grapes, fermented in cement; La Mejorada 2006, 100% tempranillo; and Luis Alegre 2006, a delicious crianza, and in fact the winner of our taste test. With the wine learning experience, including this handy  scent kit, behind us, it was time to cook some dinner.

The infamous brussell sprouts, an impulse buy at the market, were the smallest, cutest things I've seen in a while. And the cause of ongoing anxiety as everyone nervously attempted to convince Tracy into putting them in the oven before she was ready.

Tracy made some delicious fried rice with baby txipirones, seaweed, and other flavors that we can't get enough/any of here.  Then we feasted on szichuan peppercorn-brined duck topped with rehydrated mushrooms with the aforementioned brussels. To finish our loooong meal....lemon-cava granita, by me.

There are people I know living abroad that have a certain gag reflex when it comes to spending time with fellow Americans. By that I mean given any choice they would nearly always choose the 'indigenous' experience, to the nth degree. I'm talking about turning down a dinner at Arzak with an American to go with a local to grab a beer and the crappiest tortilla in town.

It's a ridiculous way to live. And as we sat around by candlelight, scooping up melted cava sorbet and talking really fast in American-accented English, I felt happy to have my little expat circle that night, filled with good conversation, great wines from nearby, picture-perfect baby calamari, milk from the mountains, and all the rest. Because only those who have felt scarcity can really appreciate abundance.

cooking los clásicos: menestra

Menestra is a Navarran dish par excellence. At its heart, it is simply a vegetable stew, featuring the most prized products of the region: white asparagus, chard, artichokes and peas.  It´s a staple...you can buy dubious canned and frozen versions in the supermarkets here, which is always a sign of a dish´s ubiquitousness.  Another sign? Ferran Adriá's adaptation from a few years back that includes beet foam and almond sorbet.

What struck me as strange in the preparation was the three different stages of cooking. First you have the individual cooking of each vegetable. Steaming for the artichokes and bainas and then sauteeing for the chard, cooking them very lightly, just until tender. Later, you must pass the artichokes, chard and bainas through an egg and flour wash, frying them all in olive oil. Only then do you combine all the vegetables in one pot, with the rendered meats and a base of cooking liquid that consists of olive oil, wine, and artichoke liquid. 

All in all, it's a wonderful example of a classic Spanish stew that uses the best of late winter/early spring's vegetable offerings.  The artichokes from Tudela in Navarra are famous (they are called Blancas de Tudela), but this stew would be delicious made with American produce, too. Various versions exist, some of which use fresh artichokes instead of bottled or add cauliflower and carrot. Experiment and find your favorite combination.

menestra de navarra

• 6 artichokes
• a cup of frozen peas
• 2 large stems of chard
• a cup of baínas (sugar snap peas if necessary), cut into pieces
  
• 6 white asparagus from a jar, cut into pieces
  
• 3 thin slices of chorizo de pamplona, cut into small squares
  
• 1 thick piece of pancetta, cut into lardons
• 1 cup flour + 1 tbsp
  
•  olive oil
• 3 cup white wine
• 1 cup artichoke cooking liquid
• 1 cup chicken broth
• 2 eggs
  

To prepare the artichokes, trim and steam in 2 cups of white wine and some water (adding a bay leaf, chili, thyme, whatever you like to make it ADAP->As Delicious As Possible). Reserve the liquid. Cut into quarters.  Thaw frozen peas in warm water. Sautee chard and baínas (separately) in olive oil until tender.

Pass the artichokes through an egg wash then the flour, then cook in hot olive oil until golden. Drain on paper towels. Repeat with beans and chard, tossing the best you can and frying in oil. Messy but important.

Next, heat 2 Tbsp olive oil and render chorizo and ham. Then add 1 cup of wine and a cup of the artichoke liquid. Add a tablespoon of flour, stirring well and allowing to cook a bit. Add a pinch of salt, then add the various vegetables, finishing with the asparagus. Bring back to the boil.  Add chicken broth as needed, because you want your liquid to reduce a bit but you still want some to scoop up with your bread.

Accompany with rosé or red wine.