posted by admin on Nov 21
A 2006 Pie Franco Rueda. (Image courtesy of vinissimus.com)
I will get to the Kermit Lynch wines soon, I promise. But first I need to vent a little bit.
I had such a perfect plan for dinner Monday night, but well, if you have a family you know how these things can go.
I’ve had this great little pork rib roast sitting around in my freezer, and on Sunday, I took it out to thaw thinking it would be the perfect thing to make for dinner Monday night. Now usually, I think of a roast as a great Sunday meal – I’ve got all afternoon to prepare, the Jets game is on (do you imagine I take pleasure because they beat the Steelers? Where was that defense all year!). But we had things to do Sunday. I thought if I marinated the pork over night, and got home on Monday by 6 or so, I’d have plenty of time to prepare the roast for dinner. I had some fresh sage, and everything else that I might need. Brilliant!
So Monday morning we’re having the usual quick breakfast before everybody heads off to school and work, and Peter reminds us that he has a piano lesson at 7:30 p.m. So my wife, Deborah, tells me, “You should have dinner ready for him before he goes.’’ Hmm, I’m calculating, he’s leaving at 6:45, pork roast won’t be done, so I’ll make some pasta and he’ll miss out on the pork. Oh well.
Monday evening I’m racing home in time to get Peter’s dinner ready and I start thinking: Jack’s not going to enjoy sitting around waiting for his dinner while his brother is scarfing down some tortellini (which I must say I do really well). I suppose I better offer him a plate, too. Hey, he’s in 11th grade and always hungry, he’ll probably eat the pasta and still eat the pork roast. You know the lean and hungry teen-ager type. So I make the offer:
“Hey Jack, do you want tortellini now? Or pork roast in an hour and a half?’’
“Um, I don’t know, Dad. What’s in the pork roast?”
“What do you mean, ‘What’s in the pork roast?’ ”
“How are you preparing it?’’
Oh, great, he’s weighing his options. “I don’t know. Marinated in olive oil, herbs and mustard. I’m gonna put in sage and garlic on it, maybe pour on some white wine….’’
“Sounds great, Dad. I’ll have the pasta.’’
Little ingrate, I think. Oh well, more pork for Deborah and me.
Meanwhile, I make slits all over the roast and insert minced garlic and sage. Then I quickly brown the roast on all sides in olive oil in a casserole before putting the whole thing in the oven for a while.
As I was slicing onions and potatoes to add to the casserole the phone rings. It’s Deborah. “Hi Honey, it’s me. Listen, I’m still at the office, and I’m really getting a lot of stuff done, so if it’s O.K. I’ll just stay a little longer and grab something to eat here.’’
“Fine by me, honey.’’ Sigh. Another lovely dinner by myself. Oh well, at least I’ll drink well. Speaking of which, I need a dry white wine to add to the pork. Let’s see, now. Chardonnay, no. Chardonnay, no. Riesling, no. Chardonnay, no. Verdejo, absolutely!
I happened to have a bottle of the 2006 Pie Franco Rueda from Blanco Nieva. This is a wine that I love. It’s got floral and citrus aromas with great mineral flavors and it’s alive in the mouth. Just the thing to pour in with the pork, potatoes and onions, and I’ll still have plenty for company. I had actually considered this for a Thanksgiving wine but ended up going with the more unusual 1996 Viña Gravonia from R. López de Heredia.
The Spanish phrase Pie Franco, by the way, like the French Franc de Pied, indicates that the wine is made from grapes grown on ungrafted roots. As you may know, because of the threat of phylloxera, an aphid that attacks the roots of vinifera vines, virtually all vinifera vines are grafted onto American rootstocks, which are resistant to the bug. I used to think that ungrafted vines were a grand and rare exception until I went to Champagne to do an article on Bollinger’s Vieilles Vignes Françaises, a grand and rare Champagne made from ungrafted vines. In my research I learned that in fact not only do a lot of individual winemakers make special cuvees from ungrafted vines, but vast stretches of vineyard territory in Spain, Chile and Washington State are planted with ungrafted vines.
Compounding the mystique is the fact that many people refer to ungrafted vines as “prephylloxera vines,’’ implying that the vines predate the great outbreak of phylloxera in Europe in the late 19th century. In fact, most of the time this term simply means ungrafted, and the vines are not nearly that old.
Enough about that. When the roast was ready I let it rest as I cooked down the wine with the potatoes and onions. With some sautéed broccoli on the side, It was a great dinner for myself, and it went beautifully with this wine. Did I mention that I love this wine?
By the way, Dad won in the end. Dinner tonight is the leftovers.
Source: Pairing the Wine, When Dinner Is Solo
Leave a Reply