Bottle Movie Meal Hiatus

Hopefully, this is temporary.

National Guy's Month

the bottle: 2010 Fish Tale Organic Amber Ale
the movie: Bull Durham, 1988
the meal: Grilled McKenzie Beef Dogs with Hot Mustard and Pickle Relish, Napa Cabbage Slaw, Baked Black Beans with Harrington's Bacon, Molasses and Brown Sugar
In all fairness, I assign this week’s post to honor National Guy’s History Month. In finding my orientation this week—towards baseball, basketball and fishing—it felt like an appropriate theme. And in light of last week’s post and some reflection on the inherent ghettoization that occurs with the establishment and commemoration of a month devoted to just one gender’s entire history (or, one race’s, for that matter), I felt like an appropriate follow-up might be to even the score a little.

So back to baseball, basketball and fishing. But lest I imply that this grouping quintessentially sums up the essence of men (hey, I left out golf, even though it’s Masters week), it’s simply the way the cards happened to fall this week with the opening of baseball season, the finals of the NCAA basketball tournament, and the opening of trout season.

The start of baseball season is much more than just a feast of competitive male role-playing, it’s a rite of spring. And an altogether different kind of feast. For some, the onset of spring is opening daffodils. For others, it’s Opening Day. But the intermingling anticipatory smells of hot dogs and hyacinth, lilac and leather, blooming bulbs and beer are enough to send any red, white, or blue-blooded American to the ballpark for some cracks and whiffs, some roars and scoffs, some rants and cheers.

To honor this annual passage, we picked the movie Bull Durham for a few reasons. First, it’s less of a vaunted, baseball-as-ivory tower fastball, and more of a rough-around-the-edges knuckler. Kevin Costner as hapless, aging catcher Crash Davis is far from the dreamy-eyed, Spielburgesque Ray Kinsella in Field of Dreams, and his thoroughly minor league status with its grouchy humility makes this movie more than watchable. It’s a behind-the-scenes view at the second-tier game and Crash must summon all of his will to step in with the Minor League Durham Bulls to coach an up and coming rookie pitcher with a golden arm, but no brains. There’s a credible tension between the two as Crash and 'Nuke' LaLoosh, played by Tim Robbins, vie for the heart of Susan Sarandon and the dream of "The Show." And from the clip here, we see how "The Show" serves as the perfect emblem for National Guy's Month.

In college basketball, the equivalent of "The Show" is "the promised land," and for those unfamiliar with the jargon, it refers to the 4 finalists in the Division One NCAA college basketball tournament (aka The Final Four) which begins with a field of 64 teams. The promised land is perhaps an even more vaunted and awe-inspiring place to find oneself (although Crash might argue this) because it requires surviving four challenging tests of a team’s mettle and skill amidst a nervy, media-spotlit tournament milieu.

And on Monday night, the winner of the 2010 NCAA Tournament was crowned in Indianapolis.

Which gets us to our second reason for this week’s movie pick: the grand vanquisher, the royal subjugator, the conqueror and last man standing in the promised land was our beloved Duke Blue Devils, from aforementioned Durham, NC. A stretch? Perhaps. But we couldn’t resist. After all, it’s all about winning. It’s about being the best you can be. It’s about coaching and humility. And it’s all about guys.

For the feast, we passed over popcorn, curly fries and big gulps, and settled on hot dogs and beers. Nothing else seemed quite right. And it was a fine call. Charred and popped McKenzie dogs on toasted buns with relish, mustard and slaw christened our 2010 “yardnic” season at the outdoor fire pit. We whipped up some scrumptious baked black beans with Harrington’s bacon, brown sugar and molasses to warm our gullets amidst the blowy and brisk afternoon. Mmmm, wow! It was as good as any bottlemoviemeal meal yet.

And finally, our bottle selection taps into the third component of the sports-themed mix this week which is the opening of trout season. To best honor this occasion and complement our Opening Day meal, we selected the fine Fish Tale Organic Amber Ale from Olympia, Washington. This award-winning brew is very smooth going down in an icy mug, with a nice malty medium-body and a slightly sweet character. It’s truly a delicious ale that salutes organic farmers, basketball coaches and down-on-their luck ball players.

Don’t worry, next week we can all look forward to a return to balanced levels of testosterone.

Recipe for baked black beans: http://bit.ly/bxiDXN
Substitute navy beans for black beans

Ada, Maida, Alice and Elena

the bottle: 2008 Elena Walch Pinot Grigio
the movie: The Piano, 1993
the meal: Grilled Halibut with Warm Cabbage, Onion, and Apple Slaw, Black Quinoa with Pine Nuts, Corn, Olive oil, Parsley and Lemon, Queen Mother's Cake
March is National Women’s History Month and Sara and I decided that this would be a great theme for bottlemoviemeal. National Women’s History Month began as National Women’s History Week, and came out of a 1980 Carter administration (duh) proclamation that began a concerted push to elevate the recognition and achievements of women throughout history. When the push began in 1980, the topic of women’s history was languishing on college curricula and less than 3% of the content of teacher training textbooks mentioned the contribution of women in history. Women of color, and women in the fields of science, math and art were omitted, depriving generations of schoolchildren with good female role models. (That’s no excuse, Dr. Summers.)

In 1987, NWHW became NWHM with the help of some good lobbying and Ronnie Reagan. (Thanks, Nancy.) And while the theme for this NWHM's 30th anniversary is writing women back into history, the three women who inspired their way into our hearts and blog need no rewriting because in our lifetime, they wrote the book, as well as the bottle, the movie, and the meal. Alice Waters, Maida Heatter, Jane Campion and Elena Walch mostly need little introduction, so we'll let this grouping of their oeuvres do the talking.

Inspired first by Alice Waters and then the fresh halibut looking up at me from the glass case at my local fishmonger's, I decided on the Grilled Halibut with Warm Cabbage, Onion, and Apple Slaw as our honorific meal. There is little that hasn’t already been said about the paradigm shift in cooking that Alice Waters has been the centrifugal force for here in the US, but from a very personal perspective, her work both in the kitchen and beyond have had great influence on me since I started cooking independently in college back at Duke with my good bud John Neumark in the early 80’s. And the ethic of fresh, mostly local and sustainably harvested foods has always been my text.

For a super side, I make a little black quinoa (just 15 minutes!) and toss it with olive oil, pine nuts, parsley and lemon as a salad-like toothy companion to the meaty hunk of grilled halibut. The slaw works very well as a tangy, savory and crunchy counter to the tender roasted fish, and the quinoa suitably grounds the plate in a sweet, nutty and earthy place that holds it all back from taking off.

For dessert, we went to the Queen of Cake, the Doyenne of Dessert, the Boss of Baking, Maida Heatter, and opted for chocolate—what else? This cake is one of the recipes for which she is famous, and it captures her essence—light but rich, moist and decadent, this cake is an incarnation of dessert. If you haven’t Maida’ed yet, this is a good one to try. (Don’t be put off by the length of the directions—Maida’s just very detailed. It's relatively easy to make.)

Elena Walch was an architect until she decided to abandon the structure of buildings for that of grapes, and decided to devote her energies to making the best possible wines from two “Grand Cru” equivalent sites that her family owns in the Alto Adige area in Northern Italy. This Pinot Grigio is yummy and well built, unlike some of those McMansion Pinot Grigios that have proliferated. It is strong and carries nice notes of lemon, yellow plum fruits and walnut. It’s refreshing and delicious and stands up very well to the halibut. We expect to see lots more from this directed and talented winemaker in the future.

I cannot imagine a better film to capture the essence both of a woman as well as the tumultuous arc of women’s history(which, granted, is a bit presumptuous coming from a guy). In The Piano, Jane Campion masterfully, aesthetically, and emotionally captures the charged spirit and soul of a woman while telling a painful story that, in a distilled form, reflects the narrative of women in history.


Ada McGrath is a mute woman in 1800’s New Zealand who, by virtue of her mail-order bride status, is shipped off to an unforgiving remote Maori area with the only two things she loves, her daughter and her piano, to become the wife of a man who is in no way her match. The piano is her muse and source of self-expression in an otherwise completely intolerant environment, and the establishment, in the form of the landowner who “bought” her, wrestles with the power and force of this independent and strong-willed person that simply refuses to play along.

While the peaking narrative arc of Ada’s story more likely captures the crystallized rebellious spirit of the women’s movement in the last 40 years, her life predicament is firmly grounded in the mores of our centuries old male dominated world. The intense unleashing and discovery of personal and sexual freedom in this movie is more powerful than I can describe. That Ada can emerge mostly whole in a narrowly avoided Pyhrric victory, and not only survive, but reinvent, as a more complete woman with a firm and accepted sense of self, is shudderingly beautiful. It makes my cheeks quiver with dampness.

The lyrical quality of the film, the wonder of each glaringly beautiful frame, the beauty of the haunting role of music as a main character, the awesome power and strength captured by Holly Hunter as Ada McGrath, the wisdom and complete vision of Jane Campion, and the utter imagination and creativity that envelope this difficult theme all make this movie one of the best all time for this blogger and husband.

Now go, cook, watch, eat and reflect on the savory joy of what it means to be a woman.

I wish I knew.

Recipes:
Grilled Halibut with Warm Cabbage, Onion, and Apple Slaw: http://bit.ly/dwx8Cd
Black Quinoa with Pine Nuts, Corn, Olive oil, Parley and Lemon: http://nyti.ms/3a8ial
Queen Mother's Cake: http://bit.ly/dqlOLr

Spring forth

the bottle: 509 2006 Syrah
the movie: Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...and Spring, 2003
the meal: Char-grilled boneless leg of lamb, crispy potato-leek rösti with Greek yogurt, chopped fennel and olive salad, milk chocolate hazelnut panna cotta
We wrest the early pear blossoms from their cold pencil thin bark in an emerald city’s gleeful spring showing…and sniff the cold sweet droplets as if to inhale sugar from the turf.

To begin, there was a shower of iridescent yellow forsythia lighting up stony damp skies. Then, the hopeful crocuses and midget daffodils. Spidery bare limbs releasing slivery green emissions, and buds the size of bumble bees squeeze out of barken pinholes, presenting bone-white treasures. Off to the side, there, hedges of syrupy Japonica sweeten the pot, and the fruit trees start to dance; first the Asian pear, and then a ceiling of apple and cherry as if to sandwich one’s conscience in color and strip the brazen grays from their seeded perch.

Spring has arrived here in Seattle. It started in February but now there is no excusing it. There are just too many floral fireworks and pungent waft-bys. I always get carried away in spring, hence the verse-influenced intro. Spring warrants new thinking with possibility and hope. It ushers in new beginnings and frees our bodies from their mummified paralysis. One of the first things we do is step out into the brighter, sweeter evening air…and grill.

What could be a better start to the season than to take a boned and rubbed leg of lamb and char it out back over the liberated open flame? A rite of spring, lamb is a natural to open the grilling season (followed by asparagus and ramps, eagerly anticipated) and we relish the first tastes of the charred but tender soft, grassy flavor, spiked with a bit of Spanish paprika, sea salt, rosemary and olive oil. To accompany the thinly sliced pink and black slivers, I like this crispy potato-leek rösti, dabbed with Greek yogurt, and for some angular contrast, a shaved fennel and olive salad that stands up to carry the lamb forth. The rösti is a savory, crispy concoction with a gooey, earthy core that provides contrast in it own right, both texturally and flavorfully.
For a light but decadent closer, this milk chocolate hazelnut panna cotta is incredible. It is solid yet light and bridges the seasons well.
This meal is a fantastic grouping of spring flavors with balance and structure that present beautifully as the perfect mid March transitional meal.

As the spring’s first blossoms begin to peek out of their new buds and the green shoots reappear out of the dark earth, I am reminded of the eternal circle of life. And this is the theme of the movie Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring. As I try to succinctly capture the film’s power and emotional strength, I think this viewer’s words say it as well as I could.

"This film left me speechless, and I still have a hard time putting how I feel about this movie into words. After seeing it the first time in the theater, my friend and I couldn't bring ourselves to say a word to each other...not even in the car on the ride back. The second time I saw it, after purchasing it, another friend and I walked around the campus for half an hour in silence. The third time, a friend and I sat in silence in her room for an hour after the movie was over. This film is that profound, touching, and moving. Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...Spring is the most beautiful movie I have ever seen. Visually it is fantastic. The film manages to speak directly to the soul (or...failing to believe in the soul...something deep inside anyone watching it), and this is where it's beauty lies. Parts are so affecting that a painful nostalgia for a place you never knew overwhelms you.

She is right.


For the bottle, we went with a friend’s ripe juicy syrah to complement the grilled lamb. Five Zero Nine is a small Washington specialty winery making really nice wines from Walla Walla and the Columbia Valley. They do a really nice Viognier as well as Syrah, and Kevin Conroy tells me they will soon be releasing a pink Syrah, so get ready for the summer quaff.

Our glass of 2006 Syrah is strong and a good match with the lamb. Not overpowering but pretty dense, this wine has some nice black fruits and nut mid tones, with some chocolate and black pepper. It is a really delicious wine and might be hard to find outside of the Pacific Northwest. In its stead, any big-hearted Syrah or Pinot will do, but make sure it’s not too thin or the Spanish paprika will win the night.

And a soft billowy night it is as a 60-degree trade wind effect glides through West Seattle, ripening a hopeful winter gaze and softening our scorn. Replaced with mouthfuls of manna, warmth of skin, and visions of grassy barefoot walks.

Recipes available here:

Grilled leg of lamb: http://bit.ly/9vcd5Q

Crispy potato-leek rösti: http://bit.ly/bCcg6O

Chopped fennel and olive salad: http://bit.ly/aRQrlH

Milk chocolate hazelnut panna cotta: http://nyti.ms/aVQm5G

May the sons of your daughters smile up in your face

the bottle: 2010 Guinness
the movie: The Snapper, 1993
the meal: Boiled dinner of corned beef with cabbage and root vegetables with Clementine parsley yogurt horseradish sauce. Irish bread and butter pudding with Bushmill's whiskey sauce
In spite of the fact that this is the weekend of both the ACC Tournament, as well as the grand opening at the SXSW Film Festival of my good friend Mike Woolf’s sweeping new feature Man on a Mission (check out the trailer and look for it soon at a theatre near you), it seemed a natural in this blog’s first season to pick up the universal mantle of St. Patrick. But it was a challenge to get the angle just right.

At first, I thought the best approach might be a grand and epic tribute that goes right to the heart of the Irish matter—the controversial tale of the “Lion of Ireland,” as depicted well in Neil Jordan’s Michael Collins, who led the IRA against British rule and founded the Irish Free State (Eire) in 1921.

But this felt just a wee too grand.

Then I considered doing the story around the 1974 Guildford pub bombers in In The Name of The Father, because our family lived close by in Cobham at the time, and as a child that memory is indelible. But even though Daniel Day Lewis is tremendous in that very good Jim Sheridan movie as the wrongly convicted youth Gerry Conlon fighting for justice to clear his father’s name, it felt too close to home in its nerviness around the Irish problem.

Back and forth texts and emails with me mum configured a way to make one of our favorite films—The Field—work for St. Patty’s Day: The (mountain) Croagh Patrick in County Mayo is a short way from the village of Leenane where the film The Field was made. The passionate devotion to the land in Ireland (which is the subject of the film) could be allied with the single-minded determination of thousands of pilgrims every year who climb the rocky mountain, some of them barefoot and shirtless, to seek the favor of St Patrick. Well done, Mum! This movie perfectly captures some of the key dimensions of the complex Irish soul—parsimony, strength, patience, and violence. But the story of Bull McCabe, played by Richard Harris in an absolutely peak performance, felt just a bit too heady, and the movie, while brilliantly Lear-like, is tragic.

So I briefly ruminated over my Guinness about the possibility of going apolitical and boisterous with Alan Parker’s The Commitments, based on the debut novel of Roddy Doyle, about an unlikely group of young musicians who form a band and try to bring soul music to Dublin. It’s a great movie, but this one just felt too random.

After reviewing a long list of Ireland-centric favorites, like Hear My Song, Circle of Friends, Waking Ned Divine, and the Secret of Roan Inish, I came up empty pint-glassed.


I finally ended up back in the Roddy Doyle camp with the dirtily and deeply grounded The Snapper. Why? Because it’s just so basic, so raw, and so real. And after last week’s post, I thought…how appropriate. There are no fireworks, no extravagant Irish vistas, and no brooding Irish heroes or anti-heroes. No old country, no IRA, no tortured Irish history lessons, and definitely no boxing. This movie is so small it could fit into a dorm room-sized shotgun row home in a working-class neighborhood the size of a postage stamp in some forgotten outer suburb of Dublin. To me, this movie captures what St. Patty's Day is all about here in the U.S. It's really just an everyperson nod to our Irish roots—a celebration of our ordinariness and simple, common values. Here is a movie about family connection, love, growing up, community, and all of the real and small daily trials that we share as average people. A laugh over the dinner table, an argument while watching the telly, and a shared pint at the local with friends is what St. Patty's Day is all about, and this very smallness is what makes it so grand.

When Sharon Curley (Tina Gellegher) gets unintentionally pregnant, or “up the pole” with her “snapper”, the fireworks are all interpersonal between her tight-knit but boisterous lower-class family and the entire town that comments from the sidelines when Sharon refuses to identify the father. It is raucously funny while being tender and human, and Colm Meaney as Sharon’s caring dad, captures this double-barreled persona unabashedly. Give this man the Irish Oscar in the form of a pint of Guinness at the local pub and everything in the world will be ok.

A striking aspect of this film is its un-Hollywood-ness -- everyone looks real. Maybe even a bit too real. Teeth feature prominently and not necessarily in the Best Makeup category. But this for me is why it’s such a good movie. It’s messy, un-slick, raw, and rough-edged with dialogue that is fast and with brogue, so listen carefully.

A few favorite scenes worth noting for flavor:

While watching the telly, a very pregnant Sharon gets up to go to the bathroom and Da' asks her where she’s off to. She responds, “My uterus is pressing into me bladder," at which point Da' moves uncomfortably in his chair, “Now stop that Sharon, I don’t want to hear that sort of thing! Its not right.” It's played pitch perfectly by Meaney.

And again while watching the telly alone with his wife, played by Ruth McCabe, but finding nothing to watch, this wickedly good moment: Meaney casually looks over and says, “I suppose a ride is out of the question?” And non-chalantly back while knitting, she replies, “Hang on till I get this line done.”
Meaney, almost flabbergasted: “Are you serious?!”
McCabe, matter-of-factly: “I suppose so.”
Meaney: “F’ck’n great. Not messin’ with me? I’ll go up and brush me teeth.”
McCabe, without looking up from her knitting: “That’ll be nice.”

Choosing the meal for the occasion was much easier, thankfully. (We thought it best to refrain from green or potato-themed meals.) There is but one classic St. Patty’s day dish and that would be the “boiled dinner.”
Otherwise known as corned beef with cabbage and root vegetables, it’s not as insipid as it sounds. In fact, this meal is subtle in the power of its elementalism, and the interplay between the meltingly sweet corned beef with the earthy root vegetables is fantastic.

This preparation is extremely simple and allows for a Sunday’s worth of tournament basketball finals on the telly while simmering quietly in the oven. After about three hours or so bubbling away in the bay leaf, clove and peppercorn broth, I add a variety of root vegetables to add some life to the more classic potato, carrot and cabbage combo. Try adding a rutabega, a yam or sweet potato (or both), some turnips, and even a jerusalem artichoke. Be careful not to overdo it, though because the right balance of corned beef to veggies is important.

A key component for this dish is a horsey sauce of some kind. In this case, we drizzled a Clementine yogurt and parsley horseradish sauce over the brisket before serving, which adds a zesty brilliance to the earthen flavors in the bowl. This pour spreads out and mixes it up into the broth flavoring every bite with a counter tang that explodes gracefully on the tongue. In the soft boiling process, this corned brisket (nitrate free and as clean as we could find) transforms into a perfume-y, moist and fatty base layer that slides down the throat in a river of rich meaty broth.

For dessert, Sara extended the Irish theme with a gorgeous Irish bread and butter pudding with Bushmill's whiskey sauce. Just look at this shot. If photography can sell food, this is testament to the notion. The burnt caramelized edges and soft, moist, inner core of this little bread pudding are truly luxurious. The bling in the Donegal tweed cap on this wondrous little sweet is a rich, caramel-y Bushmill's butter sauce that takes bread pudding far from a hardscrabble Irish bog and plants it firmly in the kitchen of Martha O’Stewart.

Of course there could only be but one bottle that is suitable for this occasion, and that would be a can of the black gold of Ireland, the blond in the black dress, the one and only Guinness. (Short of taking the portable DVD player and a tupperware of the corned beef down to the local pub, this can is the next best thing to the draft. Inside is a secret widget that recreates the nitrogen-pour effect that one can only get at the pub.) For the last remaining soul on earth who does not know, Guinness is the popular Irish dry stout that is based on the porter style that originated in London in the early 18th century and is one of the most successful beer brands worldwide. A distinctive feature is the burnt flavor which is derived from the use of roasted barley. It’s not an overpowering flavor at all, but rather a musty and toasty, rich, creamy swallow. It’s a beautiful complement to the subtle flavors in this meal.

Enjoy this bottle, movie, meal holy trinity with some good craic, and celebrate St. Patrick with us in style. Slainte!

Recipes available here:
Corned beef: http://bit.ly/deKPo4

Irish bread and butter pudding with Bushmill's Whiskey sauce: http://bit.ly/bCbFmX

Horseradish sauce: http://bit.ly/bNesZd
Add zest from one Clementine and one lemon, 1 tbsp Clementine juice, fresh cracked pepper, fresh parsley

The MOVIES, a bottle, and a meal

the bottle: 2008 Peltier Station Hybrid Pinot Grigio
the movie: The Player, 1992
the meal: Seared California Nicoise Ahi tuna salad with caramelized onions and lemon extra-virgin olive oil dress
This is not bottle, video game, meal, or bottle, TV show, meal, or even bottle, Ted talk, meal (although that could be a really interesting one). It’s called bottle, movie, meal. And mostly, the movie becomes the entry point for this blog idea because of our media marinated amygdalas—the part of our brains that does the fear and pleasure response work—and lust for richly presented stories on the big screen. Movies, and the video medium, have become by far the most potent form of information and entertainment dissemination today, and with the Academy Awards bearing down on us this weekend, I dedicate this post and grouping to the biggest celebration of the year in movies, the Oscars.

But since the Oscar contenders are not yet available in video, except the notable The Hurt Locker, it’s not as easy as taking a contender and pitting it against others in the mix. I did consider using The Hurt Locker because of the critical acclaim it has received, but I sensed an imbalanced posting, and besides, I think that movie will have to find just the right context here. No, I wanted to take a different angle on this one.

I’ve always found Hollywood as off-putting as I do fascinating and attractive. On the one hand, it is a bastion for creativity, inspiration, and even, dare I say, education. But in the same breath, I seriously question the culture of celebrity and what that overlay has done for our greater social psyche.

In the movies and their narratives, I have felt things like nowhere ever before, and to me, this is simply invaluable. But the media (and a few others, most notably, marketing) have turned Hollywood and the movie industry into a kind of circus, where we devote ourselves to the lives of celebrities and a culture of supplanted, impersonal storytelling.

This inglorious tension and dichotomy is well captured in the satire The Player, where the famous but outlier director, Robert Altman, weaves a story that is pitch-perfect all-things-Hollywood. It is a scathing and diabolical tale of the collective self-absorbed ethos that enraptures the film-making industry, and Altman has lots of fun spinning the celluloid web.


As building blocks for the movie, he cynically but deftly uses all the classic Hollywood movie devices, memes and motifs as a way to lampoon this moment in time for the industry (1992). The story itself is pretty straightforward—all the better to reflect the formulaic themes that Hollywood cranks out. Narcissism, violence, suspense, love, hope and fear all factor into this tale of a studio head, played well by Tim Robbins, who becomes paranoid and insecure and proceeds to track down and murder his nemesis. There is adequate enough character development and necessary subplots to feed the formula, as well as ironic film references galore, from Hitchcock and Orson Welles to Cecil B. De Mille and even Italian Neo-Realism. And for glistening, butter-whipped icing on the cake, Altman sprinkles in numerous actual celebrities, playing themselves—Nick Nolte, Bruce Willis, Julia Roberts, Anjelica Huston, Cher, Rod Steiger, Lily Tomlin, Elliot Gould, Burt Reynolds, Mimi Rogers, Susan Sarandon, Marlee Matlin and Jeff Goldblum are just some of the cream pie cameos. No, this is no embedded sub-textual mind game, but rather an all out, jaunty, fun, and humorous ride through the annals of twenty-four framed conceit.

Our Oscar meal was a tough one. Here we sit in late winter Seattle, amidst the coolth and dampness and mossy wonder, projecting our palate planning prognosis into thin socks and palm trees. What did I come up with? (Nothing compared to this riotous occasion, I'll say.) Ours is a classic California/French composure that our legions of pescatarian fans can finally get on board with. (Yeaaah, Mum!) I sear a glistening maroon ruby, sushi-grade Ahi steak just long enough to seal and char the outer edge, leaving the inside grading to raw. Then I simply compose a salad, not unlike the classic Nicoise (avec homage to Julia Child and Meryl Streep), with the gorgeous flared tuna strips atop. I skipped the eggs but found some sparkling early green beans to blanch and add, along with some delectable, earthy new potatoes for some weight. And while it’s still a good 6 months until I expect I’ll see my first real tomato of the year, I found a somewhat worthy Hawaiian greenhouse variety for tonight’s special occasion. (You can offset your tomato’s transportation carbon here if you like and really feel like you’re a part of the Hollywood scene.) I added impossibly slow cooked onions (shallots work even better) and corn (don’t ask how I managed this one, but it is NOT canned corn), and then tossed it all in light airy butter lettuces with a lemony olive oil dressing. If you like, a bit of anchovy is great mixed into the dressing. This is a great salad, and if you want to add a crusty French bagette with some icy cold butter, I won't stop you. For dessert, just eat ice cream, like the stars do. As much as you want.

Tonight’s wine feature is perfect for this occasion. A San Francisco Chronicle Wine Competition Award winner in the under $14 category at, the gold goes to 2008 Peltier Station Hybrid Pinot Grigio. Wait…no Cava, no Cristal, no Chaaardonnay for Oscar? Unless you’re imbibing with a bunch of friends and have an unlimited budget, I’d skip the Cristal or otherwise overpriced bubbles. And unless the Chard comes unoaked and done old-world, I’d skip that too (it’s so 90’s). This Italian grape has come into its own in the last 5 years with better and better examples and this one is designed for Hollywood. Pinot Grigio has been a popular summertime quaffer in Europe for a decade or more and is starting to get a foothold in the vineyards of California and the Pacific Northwest. If it’s not already the next Chard, it will be soon. (We discovered this wine, and many more, with the help of Michael Cawdrey at the wonderful Fremont Wine Warehouse for under $10! Wonderful guy with a cool assortment of wines under $25.)


It fares from the Lodi region in California which offers a good variety of Italian, Bordeaux and Rhône varietals, not to mention quite an awesome selection of Zinnies. Peltier Station is well known for their Petite Sirah, and their new Hybrid label, a line of sustainable wines that includes a new 2007 Hybrid Petite Sirah, seemed like the perfect fit for the Hollywood green brand aura. What with all the stars going green and driving alternative fuel and Hybrid autos (check out the Green Car Red Carpet), the choice of the sustainably produced Hybrid wine was a sure winner. The somewhat clever copy on the back of the bottle reads, ”Introducing the 2008 Pinot Grigio Hy-brid by Peltier Station. This revolutionary new product combines highly advanced technology with sustainable winegrowing principles. While you may not get 45 mpg, you will get the most flavorful wine of the 21st century. At the moment, a Federal tax credit is not available, however at this price everyone can own a hybrid! ‘Buy a hy-brid.’” I'm not so sure about the most flavorful wine of the 21st century, but I will give them credit for stretching the limits of clever bottle copywriting.

The wine is light and well-balanced and a perfect date for the Nicoise salad. It’s easily drinkable and strong enough to combat our winter malaise. It's 75% Pinot and 25% Vermentino, and has a pale straw yellow-green color with soft golden reflective qualities in the glass. I sniff a bit of wild honey, pear and flower with a touch of resiny wood underneath. This fresh and harmonious glass portends the wild flowers and sweet, fresh fruits to come. Inhale deeply, take a small sip and watch as the camera pans all of the beautiful faces, with Meryl smiling, George smirking, and Alec gaffawing raucously.

So drink up and enjoy the show. And let us return tomorrow to our own real and most wonderful worlds, seeking stories, forging chapters, and watching the poetry of the people and the places in our days.

The closing ceremonies

the bottle: Vina Zorzal Graciano 2007 Navarra
the movie: Chariots of Fire, 1981
the meal: Oven-roasted winter root veggies with Spanish chorizo, shallots and braising greens.
I have been meaning to get an Olympics post in here, but last week was challenging due to travel. And the week before, we opted for a Valentine’s post, bypassing other great opportunities in the Chinese New Year(2/14), Presidents' Day(2/15), Mardi Gras(2/16) and Ash Wednesday(2/17), all of which would have made for excellent food-related post opportunities. (All except…er, Ash Wednesday, that is.) Envisioning jiaozi dumplings and sake with Eat Drink Man Woman. Or Crawfish Etoufee, King Cake and Hurricanes with A Streetcar Named Desire. Laissez les bon temps rouler!)

But because the Winter Olympics happen only once every 4 years, we feel it deserves a place in the journal of bottle movie meal. And since we’re closing in on the closing ceremonies, it’s now or never. Sunday will be the official closing ceremonies of the 2010 Winter Games so our menu-movie planning should “dovetail” well with the extinguishing of the flame and a wind-burned, achy-good retrospective. (Sunday also happens to be Purim, so if you want to modify a bit by adding some pastries like hamantash, then please indulge. And it’s even appropriate, considering the movie selection.)


Instead of featuring a more classic and well-loved Winter Olympic-themed movie like Miracle, or a wackier one like Cool Runnings or Blades of Glory, I felt a hankering to pull out an old Summer Olympic-themed favorite that captures what I feel is the essence of the Games in an evocative and timeless way. Chariots of Fire is the wonderful story of two very driven British athletes preparing to compete in the 1924 Summer Olympics, each for different and intense personal reasons. But underlying each athlete’s reason is a shared sense of morality with strong religious underpinnings. Harold Abrahams (Ben Cross), a young and proud Cambridge Brit, who is also Jewish in pre-war Europe, uses his gift of speed and athleticism to overcome anti-Semitism from those who would question his true Britishness, including the Cambridge institutional elite themselves. Abrahams runs against both the dusty, decaying British Empire, and Eric "The Flying Scotsman" Liddell (Ian Charleson), who is driven equally hard and passionately, but by a devotion to his Christian convictions and the calling of God. Eric sees his gift of speed as a calling, and channels that calling so devotedly that he determines he cannot run in his preliminary heat at the Games that are held on the Sabbath.

What an incredible screenplay this is. The interplay between the religious overtones in the drive of the two different characters is fantastic, but not at all overplayed. There is an unsubtle parallel between each man’s refusal to sacrifice his ideals in spite of the odds or easy way out, but it works because of great acting, underplayed dialogue, beautiful art direction, and of course, the now famous score from Vangelis that lifts the picture to the podium in our hearts.

In today’s world where fame and the culture of the individual drives so much in our media crazed world, it is refreshing to see a look back in time to when more powerful and culturally significant themes played into our sports narratives. And for the fashionistas out there, this movie is notable for its famous beach running scenes which, accompanied by the Vangelis soundtrack, inspired legions of art directors and photographers from Ralph Lauren to Calvin Klein. And not to forget, on the medals front, Chariots of Fire won four Oscars, including Best Picture.

Less Olympic in scope, our menu-planning instead relies on simplicity and the athlete’s best friend: pasta. There’s nothing like a hearty and savory bowl of pasta, brimming with fresh root veggies and crisp braising greens, then sprinkled with a tangy romano or parmesan reggiano. This is a lighter form of wintertime comfort food for me and provides not only the sensory and gustatory fuel for the common cold weather, but the caloric punch necessary to get off the couch and put in a few miles of my own. This recipe is in the kitchen-sink freestyle category, relying on a smorgasborg of bright winter veggies, with emphasis on the root variety, onion or shallot, and some good Spanish chorizo. It’s an oven-roasted medley of dense, sweet earth sugars, and toothy whole wheat pasta, all tossed together in a light fruity olive oil for melding. It’s done in about an hour, so you can prepare it during the curling events and be sitting back down in front of the tube in time for the hockey finals.

Our gold-medal winning wine this week is this high-performing Graciano from the far south of Navarra in northern Spain which seemed appropriate for the dish. (It won a gold medal in the International Wine Challenge.) The desire was to have a lighter but full-bodied glass with the pasta dish, and the Viña Zorzal Graciano 2007 Navarra fits the bill perfectly. This is a ripe, well-structured and heady pour with a spicy scent that is just a little tart and fruity to counter the spiciness of the sausage. According to my email friends at Garagiste who brought this wine to my attention, it has a “full and deep red fruit character but the desirable yin-yang of low alcohol (much like a Loire red or an old-school Cotes du Rhone vinified in cement).” As a wine of such character, it’s a great match for those of Harold and Eric, and at under $10 it makes the medal easily within reach.

And now back to Shaun White and Kim Yu-Na.

Recipe for pasta
Chop into 1/2-3/4" pieces root veggies like: sweet potatoes, Jerusalem artichokes, beets, carrots, turnips, and rutabegas with an onion, cut into eighths, or even better, three or four quartered shallots. (1 each of the larger ones, and 2 to 3 each of the smaller)
Chop a cup of Spanish chorizo into half inch pieces.
Toss with olive oil in a big bowl. Grind sea salt and pepper into the veggie mixture.
Spread out into one layer of a sheet pan so that the veggies are not crowded. Then place into preheated 400 degree oven. Every fifteen minutes pull out the veggies and turn over to brown equally. After half an hour add another sheet pan of large torn pieces of braising greens, also tossed in olive oil, salt and pepper.
After 45 minutes for the root veggies and 15 for the greens, pull out everything and toss with whole wheat pasta. I use Whole Foods 365 brand Penne because it has great tooth and tastes great.
Grate fresh Romano or Parmesan Reggiano over the pasta and serve.