Comfort Food and Wine

A few weeks ago, Mr. Vino and I took a drive to Canada to visit his parents. Along the way, I had a revelation about how I pair food and wine.

I have spent much of my life exploring new flavors in food and wine, in search of the holy grail: the perfect food and wine pairing. I confess, I might be becoming that which I most hate--a food and wine snob.

The trip to Canada was a blast from the past for me. When I was a tiny Vino-child, my family took a number of vacation trips to Shasta, Lassen, Redding and Yreka. I hadn't revisted those areas at all in my adult life. On the long car drive (Mr. Vino is NOT a fan of airplanes), I shared with him all the funny stories from my childhood trips. It made me both happy and sad, and left me with an incredible, teary, open-hearted feeling.

On our first night, we made it to Yreka. It wasn't really a destination--while Mrs. Vino generally likes her vacation trips well planned, in this case we were just winging it. If you haven't tried it, it's a very liberating experience. It was late, and there weren't many places still open. We ended up dining at a restaurant called Grandma's House. I opened the door and walked into my past. While I don't believe I ever ate here as a child, it was EXACTLY like the family-style diners that were favored by my large family.

It's really hard for Mrs. Vino to describe. The feeling of warm connection to the past. The feeling of familiar, inviting, reassuring "comfort" that is the definition of comfort food. There were no Buddha Hands on the menu. Grandma's House doesn't serve Duck Confit. We asked our incredibly perky (in a good way) waitress for a wine list. She pointed to the menu: Chablis, Rose or Burgundy--glass, half-carafe or full carafe.

We chose a half-carafe of Chablis for $8.

I turned my attention to the menu and promptly burst into tears. The waitress came back, concerned. Mr. Vino told her not to worry, that I occasionally get like this.

At the top of the entree menu was Mrs. Vino's pre-eminent comfort food: Liver and Onions. Not veal liver with apple reduction and Peruvian potatoes. Grilled. Liver. And Onions. (OK, a side of steamed broccoli).

When I was growing up, my mother and I shared a love for liver and onions. No one else in my family could stand them. In those days, moms didn't make multiple meals to accomodate their kid's palates (at least Mama Vino didn't), so we never served this meal at home. But every time my family went out to dine for a special occasion, at a restaurant EXACTLY like Grandma's House in Yreka, my mother and I ordered liver and onions. It was a ritual we shared. After my sisters and brother moved out of Mama Vino's house and Papa Vino passed away, I would regularly visit my mother and we'd make Liver and Onions together. I haven't had Liver and Onions since her passing 10 years ago.

The Liver and Onions and half-carafe of Chablis that I enjoyed at Grandma's House was the most perfect meal I have ever eaten and the best food and wine pairing I have ever made. It was seasoned by funny memories and served warm and comforting. In some ways, the meal changed how I define a good pairing. Yes, I will always continue to search for flavors that entwine on the tongue to create memorable experiences. But I also have a new appreciation for a food and wine pairing that just makes you feel good.

It was good to remember that the ultimate food and wine pairing doesn't come from a restaurant, or even from your own kitchen. The best food and wine pairings come from the heart. I have a new appreciation for visitors to the Morovino tasting room that ask "what wine pairs with hot dogs, cuz we are barbecuing on the beach with the kids." Those visitors are creating their very own comfort food and wine pairing today, and for the future.

I encourage you all to revisit your own personal Liver and Onions and Chablis pairing today.

Cheers! Mrs. Vino

Flavors and aromas in wine.

Here's a question I get frequently in the Morovino tasting room. "Mrs. Vino, your tasting notes say that I may taste black pepper in this wine. Is there actual pepper in it?" The answer is "no." When a wine label or tasting room attendant says that you might taste or smell black pepper (or cherries, or truffles, or earth, or spices), there probably AREN'T those things present in the wine. Instead, the combination of the grape, the type of barrel, the yeast used to ferment the wine and the magic of the winemaker bring flavors or aromas similar to black pepper or cherries or earth to the wine. You can only taste 5 things: Sweet, sour, bitter, salty or Umami (more on that in another post). but you can smell an infinite number of things. A newly mown lawn. A crisp green apple. Even though you are "tasting" the wine in your mouth, you are actually smelling it!! When we sip wine and slurp it a little (Mrs. Vino calls that the ugly sip--usually accompanied by a slurping noise and a chewing motion), we are adding oxygen to the wine in our mouth. The wine molecules vaporize and enter your sinus cavity through the rear of your mouth (yes, Mrs. Vino knows that sounds gross). You are actually smelling the wine at this point. (Mrs. Vino calls that "smell/taste.") Depending on the type of wine grape and the art of the winemaker and the age of the wine, the wine might "smell/taste" like tart red cherries (Morovino Sangiovese is a great example) or even dried plum (Morovino '99 Zinfandel). Everyone's palate is different. Anything you "smell/taste" in a wine is valid. Sesame seeds. Espresso. That great patchouli candle you had in 1972. But certain wines do exhibit consistent and classic "smell/tastes" (like Sangiovese and red cherries). Tasting notes are a great start when experiencing wines, but your experience of the wine is just as important. Remember, if you like a wine--it's a good wine. If you don't like a wine--it's just not a good wine for you. If a wine smells like wet newspapers--then it's truly bad and you should send it back. Cheers! Mrs. Vino