Noshing Out – Niagara Falls Ice Wine Festival

                The temperature drops and the sky goes to a steel gray. Grapes, what used to be firm-fleshed juicy orbs, have deflated in the cold, drooping on their vines or hanging in nets strung up below. The area around Niagara Falls is known for its ice wine production, pressing dehydrated grapes (yet not quite raisins) to create a delicate dessert wine. Usually made from pinot gris, vidal blanc, or cabernet franc grapes, ice wine comes in 375ml bottles and has the viscosity of a light syrup. My girlfriend and I were there for the first weekend of the ice wine festival. Tickets came with eight tear-off tabs used to sample an ice wine along with a food pairing at participating wineries throughout the region.

                Having experienced the spray, the roar, and the glow of the Canadian Horseshoe falls the night before, we set out Saturday morning to sample. Bundled up in our winter jackets, we, along with a small army of other tasters, crisscrossed the region. Our cell phones not working in Canada, we unfolded a map across the dashboard and ticked off our sweet and savory destinations. While delectable options were everywhere, as ever, a few stood out from the crowd.

                Reif Estates, the German flag flying proudly outside next to a tour bus. The tasting room was packed with people, and the smokey scent of spit roasted porketta wafted from the back room. The whole hog was being torn apart and served into buns, the skin making and audibly loud crack as the culinary shears cut through. It was lightly adorned with an ice wine infused apple sauce, bringing sweetness to the warm and succulent pork. The video to come will give you a better idea of the crunch of the crackling.

                Our favorite tasting experience came at Kacaba Vineyards. They served an al dente barley risotto, flavored with duck stock from the rillete that was mixed in. The meat fell apart in in my mouth. The savory flavors highlighted by a berry coulis that dolloped the top, along with the cabernet franc ice wine, a reddish brown hugh and subtle sweetness as compared to the vidal ice wines. We were also shown around the unbottled wines, and led through a personalized tasting from the staff, working our way through young whites to spicy and meat friendly reds.

My favorite food paring was reminiscent of molecular gastronomy. Flat Rock Cellars, two, circular, glass and metal buildings overlooked a vast, frozen field of hibernating vines, poured a 2013 Late Harvest Gewurztraminer. Still sweet and light gold in color, the viscosity of the wine was significantly less. Paired with this was a small chalice filled with a shredded pork belly flavored with maple and a winter herb relish. This sat atop a creamy parsnip puree and was finally dotted with wine caviar. Each component could be tasted on its own, or all could be loaded on the spoon for a symphony of flavors and textures.

Noshing Out – Comfort Food Friday

“And after all the voting, I’m ignoring the winner and next month’s theme will be: Comfort food!” declared Caryl, the founder/leader of the Foodies meetup group. Every year, January’s theme is comfort food, and every year, Caryl still takes a poll and votes on a theme that she theatrically ignores.

There is an expected degree of chaos at the beginning of every Fabulous Foodie event. Despite participating chefs’ mis en place, there is always warming, roasting, composing, and finishing touches to be completed before service. Dishes appear on the table as they are ready; the dull roar of conversation the background for the symphony of corks popping and food sautéing. The first dish passed around was a split pea soup, a dark green mash thick with aromatic vegetables and smokey from added bacon and kielbasa. The sausage was cooked before being added, the casing popping as you bit into a spoonful.

My offering was in the oven at 425⁰ from the moment I took off my coat. Sliced potatoes, diced onions and garlic had been tossed in olive oil, parsley, and perfumed with a touch of truffle salt. Steam billowed from the oven when I opened it to reveal the roasting tubers. After a toss and other stint under the heat, the crispy slices were removed. The crunch on the edges gave way to a starchy center. Unfortunately, the heady aroma of the umami truffles that wafted from the potatoes quickly dissipated.

The star of the party was still being created. A variety of custom grilled cheese sandwiches sizzled away in a wide brimmed pan, the stuffing ingredients arrayed to the side. Scents of butter, toast, brine, meat, and of course, bubbling cheese emanated from that side of the kitchen. The crisp bread crunched as the sandwiches were cut in half, barely making it to the table before being consumed. My favorite combination was constructed with tomato, pickled jalepeno, dill pickes, and ham. A variation on a croque monsieur, the vinegary vegetables and fresh tomato added brightness and acidity which was a keen counterpoint to the heavy bread and cheese.

Plate filled a second, or perhaps a third time, I sat down with a glass of wine and was regaled by a foodie friend of he and his wife’s trials and tribulations of travel over the holidays having her green card stolen.  I was among my people.

Nosh Out – Ring in the New Year Between Two Pieces of Bread

Most people focus on the last night of the year. Champagne toasts, overpriced buffet dinners, crustaceans of various types, and open bars. This fare usually results in the need for greasy food and a hair of the dog bloody mary the next morning. My festivities were celebrated with friends at home, a smorgasbord of potluck offerings on the dining room table and a plastic bin full of beers, ice, and wine. Midnight was “counted down” by Bohemian Rhapsody, rather than Auld Lang Syne, and the next morning was both hangover and walk of shame free. But a second celebration came the next day, as Rita (you may remember her from the tamale party post) once again graciously opened her home and her sandwich presses for a bellini and panini party.

Guests brought sandwich fillings and condiments along with a bottle of wine/champagne/Prosecco. We hungrily circled around the panoply of offerings, carefully constructing towering topping in preparation for the press. Soon, the scents of nutty butter and herbed olive oil suffused the room as the coated bread turned to grilled toast. Waiting my turn, I sipped mango puree-infused Prosecco. The heady aroma of my favorite “cologne,” Eau du Bacon, a side effect of my food offering, still lingered on my wrists as I brought the fluted glass to my mouth, effervescence tickling my lips. The Prosecco was dry, its golden hay color bubbling with carbonation. The mango puree brought a sweetness to the glass that removed the usual toast flavors. A refreshing drink, we often made the mistake of adding the puree first, causing the flute to foam over with the addition of the spirit.

My panini started with a base of onion and rosemary bread, painted with olive oil infused with the same. Having surveyed the potential combinations, I decided on darker, warm, umami flavors that would meld together on the heat. Honey mustard, still grainy with the seeds, spread across my doughy canvas and was quickly followed by roasted turkey, bacon, caramelized onions, blue cheese, and sautéed mushrooms. A humble suggestion with pressed sandwiches, simplicity is not to be scorned, as a complex construction will just fall apart. Cranberry relish and salad were added to my plate and I impatiently waited for my sandwich to transform. The bread rendered sufficiently toasty, I removed it from the press and, gingerly handling the grilled creation, bit in.

Freshly toasted sandwiches are completely unlike their raw kin. Flavors melt into one another, the crunch of the toast giving way to unctuous cheese. Moisture in meat is unlocked from the heat, as are the aromatics from condiments and vegetative toppings. My participation in the conversation took a hiatus as I indulged in gastronomic bliss.