Chicken Cacciatore With 2005 López de Heredia Cubillo

I'm trying to recall the last time I've had chicken cacciatore.

20 years? If we were to go to a traditional Italian restaurant (that feels like it's been 20 years as well) and I read down the menu, trying to figure out what I want to order, my eyes would blaze right by chicken cacciatore and immediately dismiss it.

There's nothing wrong with it. I like all the ingredients in cacciatore. But there's a sense about its...basic-ness...that doesn't inspire an "Oooh! I want that!"

It's probably the mushrooms. There's something about mushrooms. It's like watching a movie that I'm enjoying, and then an actor pops up that, in my head, makes it impossible to think this movie will ever reach great heights. He's not a bad actor. He has his own style. Brings something mildly unique. But I can't get past all his past work and all the past movies I saw with him in it that had potential and ended up utterly forgettable. Was it his fault? I can't say, but I can say that there's just too much evidence in my movie life that his inclusion in a project means that there's an 80% chance I don't need to see it.  

They're the Michael Rapaport of food.

But here, with this Lidia Bastianich recipe, the mushrooms don't bully their way to the front of the stage, letting the overall flavor of the dish become something more than the sum of its simple parts. The mushrooms only added a "here's where mushrooms come from and THAT'S IT!" note.

It's just chicken, onions, peppers, tomatoes, oregano, white wine and mushrooms, but that's what makes it good. Recipe followed to the letter here. The result was delicious, highlighted by a great broth-like soup in which to dip the Jamie Oliver garlic bread (made with a smoked paprika butter to help the wine).

Served with 2005 López de Heredia Viña Cubillo Crianza Rioja ($25 - Vin Chicago). We've never craved the Cubillo, particularly when a Tondonia or Bosconia from Heredia usually costs a mere $10 more (though that's inching up lately). In lesser years, the Cubillo has been a little too blunt. Here, the 2005, might be the best we've had. Tons of grace in a Cubillo frame. It's more quiet and less in a hurry to belch out its personality. Spice and tobacco, raspberry and cherry, with the tiniest hint of smoked orange peel.

This wine needs food, this was the food, and the pairing was the star. Together, this tasted like a foggy mountain meal. Everything slowed down, tasting like a well-told, slow-paced story that reveals itself in layers, as if hearing an old, burly, bearded mountain man say, "It was long, dark winter and that grizzly bear had been inching closer to the cabin for weeks..."

We loved it.    

Persian Beef with Barberry Sauce and Buttered Almonds With 2012 Broc Cellars Cabernet Franc

This recipe, from Najmieh Batmanglij (her son is in Vampire Weekend...huh...learn something new everyday), via the American Pistachio Growers website, came about because we wanted to try barberries a month or two ago and the smallest quantity I could buy was in an ENORMOUS bag. Gotta use 'em up.

We love barberries now. Well, there's at least a deep like. They provide a tartness reminiscent of cranberries but are so much more bright, light, and focused. They don't overwhelm things, providing a tiny punch to food that needs it.

Like here. Persian beef (swapped out chicken for beef in the recipe - and we'll be trying this with lamb, probably quite soon). We don't know Iranian food, having only nibbled at the edges here and there, but this food, Persian beef stew essentially, tasted like Iranian Sunday comfort food.

Bet it's delicious with chicken, with the barberries and nuts playing with the bird in different, brighter realms, but beef shank worked here, turning it into a juxtaposition between the darker, deeper beef and marrow that played with the cardamom, turmeric, cinnamon and pepper, and the barberry sauce perk and perfect integration of sunny saffron, echoing a Mediterranean saffron beef play that we enjoy on occasion. Buttered almond-pistachio blend on top (more almonds, less pistachios - pistachios be EX-pensive right now). Rice underneath. Mint on top.

It's been a long month in our house. Great food has been less frequent because of it. It was nice to have Great Food again. This was Great.

Made better by a wine that let the food shine, while offering just enough in the way of pop to keep us coming back to find new and intriguing things about it. The 2012 Broc Cellars Cabernet Franc Central Coast ($19 - Vin Chicago) is biodynamic, I assume culled from different vineyards, 12% alcohol, sleek, pretty, and a great value for the dollars. Shiny red fruits, violets and cinnamon on the nose, a bit less in the intensity of that on the palate for the first 2/3, then finishing with something like a rum raisin smack. The finish made it. Texturally, it's more thin than expected, but that doesn't hurt its enjoyment. Given blind, it's Loire cab franc. Not fancy Loire cab franc with its oodles of layers and fascinating, almost obstinate personality that we love, just utterly drinkable cab franc giving what cab franc-y-focused food wants.

Very nice pairing here. Tasted like going to a friend's house for dinner. This friend is a bit of pot smoker. You like him. He's fun. You eat dinner, have some wine, good conversation. Then the evening gets to the 'I'm gonna blaze up, if that's alright' point. You don't care. He does. And the rest of the evening turns into one of those meandering conversations that twists and turns at a wonderfully pleasant, glacial pace that you get from about one out of thousand pot smokers. Usually, it gets rapidly weird and you plan your quick exit. With him, you relish the respite from everyday life.

Tasted like that.          

Goat Kofta, Roasted Cauliflower, Kale, Hazelnuts, Pita And Tahini With 2010 Owen Roe Pinot Noir The Kilmore

$5 goat. $7 for everything else. That's $12 for dinner.

We spent roughly that for an Arby's lunch a couple of days ago when there were no other options and we needed something fast. You tell me which one sounds better. Our answer is, unequivocally, in the above picture. Good Lord! Arby's cheese is not natural!

Don't think you like cauliflower? Eat this cauliflower and get back to me. From Yotam Ottolenghi (natch) in the New York Times. I didn't need cauliflower in my life. Now I want cauliflower in my life after eating this. Sweet, roasty, spicy, nutty, with a pomegranate seed pop and celery crunch. Every ingredient has a purpose. Perfect balance, utterly new, and plenty of roughage to clean out Arby's cheese.

Goat kofta (here's a reason to buy $5/lb. ground goat and toss it in your freezer), made with similar flavors in the cauliflower salad, using allspice, cinnamon, etc.. Tahini and pita to round out the meal.

Eating this meal was like rereading a chapter in a book you're reading, because the chapter was that freakin' good. The world slows down, things make a bit more sense, there's a touch of clarity in your head that wasn't there before. And it's why I can't abide people that say eating should be treated as mere sustenance. When one willfully avoids good food, it's like they're willfully avoiding...beauty. That feels like idiocy to me. Maybe it was the juxtaposition of Arby's next to real food, but this dinner felt like beauty to us.

The 2010 Owen Roe Pinot Noir The Kilmore Yamhill-Carlton ($42 - Winery) benefitted from the similarity of spices in both the kofta and cauliflower salad, letting the wine take a cue from that and say, "Here's all the pretty earth I can give to this." A complete Oregon pinot nose, a touch of plum and a hint of something like a mulled Christmas wine, but this one was all about the earth on the tongue. Delicious wine. The food could have maybe used a floral note from the wine but we were happy campers with this food-wine combo. Felt very intentional, which is all anybody wants from a pairing.