Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Hand in Hand

Tony Bourdain is a strong influence on me, not with his cooking, but with his writing.

Mentioning Bobby in an earlier post without even a passing reference to Tony is unexcusable; and here is my lame excuse for not doing so.  I had intended to save it for a future post, as soon as I had some more materials hopefully borne out of a personal interaction with him; which at this point doesn't look too realistic in the next 12 months.

To somehow meekly make up for it, here is a link.

http://anthony-bourdain-blog.travelchannel.com/

Asian Fusion

Each day, we are exposed to influences that are foreign, which for the most part, are new and untried by us.
Globalization has allowed us to take in the best of what the world has to offer.  And while the mix is often ecclectic, occasionally there will be someone who can interpret the mix of melodies and flavours and come up with a blend of something that cannot  be described as one or the other, but rather a fusion of all the essences.  One such person is Bobby Chinn.
For those who are familiar with him, please feel free to post your links here.  If you've had the pleasure of eating at his hanoi restaurant and have a picture, please post a link here as well.
And for those who haven't heard about bobby, here is his website.   http://bobbychinn.com/
 

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

A Gem Named Romitorio

In a conversation about wine regions I had with my wife about 3 years ago, I came to the realization that France was the best country with regard to promoting their produce throughout the world. Having an early start on the international wine-drinking audience, France went about with a well thought out communications plan that sought to deliberately focus attention on their produce, while at the same time subtly excluding those that weren't. Perhaps the strongest example of this is the way they marketed their carbonated wine. “If it is not from Champagne, France, then it isn't Champagne.” As a marketing man from a German multinational company in my previous corporate incarnation, I can appreciate the effort that France put into their products, which has directly resulted in a top-of-mind position with the consumer, as well as a top-tier pricing position. But enough of that. Obviously there are other gems out there that do not come from France. Spain, on the other hand, produces some of the best appellations as well. Their drawback is that the Spaniards, when producing an exceptional vintage, would rather keep the secret to themselves, rather than let the world know and risk running out of the precious substance for themselves. The Priorat region has been one of the most consistent in this decade but since the production has almost always been very limited, very few people outside of Spain and North America are aware of it. The North American market, stumbling on this previously well-kept Spanish secret, has been buying most of whatever is left of the region's entire production. In fact, your best bet to find a case is probably in Canada rather than Spain. Italy, another bastion of old-world wine-making, has their wine regions separated into two major areas. The Italian wines' drawback? Produce from one region is marketed to compete versus produce from their other region. So, instead of acquiring two separate bottles, you usually end up choosing whether you prefer something grown from their mountain range, or another one from the coastal region. With Italian wine, you have to go beyond the chatter so you can concentrate on finding a gem. Very recently I was gifted a bottle of ROMITORIO from the 2000 Italian vintage by Jorge Lichauco, a wine connoisseur with an impressive selection acquired from his travels throughout the world. The label alone already gave me an inkling that I was in for a treat. The paper stock and strait-forward label design was similar to some of the better bottles my wife and I have had. Over the years, I have noticed that the better tasting wines usually sported clean and simple labels, while bottles with garish labels often contained wine with fewer nuances and a much shorter finish than you would have expected. From the glean in my wife's eyes, somehow I knew that we were opening this bottle accompanied with the usual gourmet pairing of our quiet home-cooked dinners. And as the best meals are prepared over a period of time, I can tell everyone right now that it will probably take at least a month before we actually get to the meal. Anticipating that the Romitorio will go well with a full-bodied meal, I am hoping that my wife will build it around an appetizer of seared yellowfin tuna with Yuzu sauce, as popularized by Nobu of London, and end with Osso Buco over porcini or portobello pasta.
Oh well, anticipation is always a good thing. Again, I would like to thank Jorge Lichauco for gifting me with the gem called Romitorio.