Wine + Food + Friend = Memorable Dinner

It's as simple as that.

Conversation flows freely, hours pass unnoticed, yet every detail of the evening lasts and lasts.

July 4th, 2008 at the Tivoli, my wife and I were the guests of our good friend, Bernd Schulze Khöeling. Everybody currently seems to be busier. Well, it feels like I am, anyway.

I don't get to see Bernd much these days, aside from greeting each other as our flights pass during regular Saturday golf and the occasional IWFS dinner. So when Bernd insisted on taking my wife and I to dinner, how could I refuse?

At Bernd's request, a special menu was created and executed for us by visiting Chef Paul Anthony Quarchioni, who has worked in several Michelin-star restaurants including, among others, Le Côte St-Jacques in Joigny (***) and La Tante Clair in London (**) . He was formerly Chef de Cuisine of Le Normandie in the Oriental Hotel Bangkok, a restaurant I have had the pleasure of dining in several years ago. The wines were tested, decanted and served personally by the impeccable Stephan Wieprich.

With the amuse bouche and Oyster Shots:

1993 Dom Ruinart Champagne - a vintage grand cru blanc de blanc (i.e., 100% chardonnay), I wouldn't expect anything less from Bernd - avid champagne lover that he is. I recall my first taste of '88 Krug came from bottles of his at a Latour vertical.

Because I've been drinking '96 bubblies as of late, my mind had to snap back to a '93 Pol Roger Blanc de Chardonnay I brought and enjoyed with the Doc, Stockbroker and our wives at Lili around 2½ years ago.

Pol Roger Blanc de Chardonnay Champagne 1993 - Superior, clean, well-focused
white fruit, demure yeast notes. Even better after the bottle sat in shaved ice
for an hour - its bouquet opened up with generous toast/brioche which followed,
though more discreetly, on the palate. Nice, bracingly dry champagne. Picked
this up for slightly over $60. Great considering its moderate price for a
vintage champagne.

The '93 Dom Ruinart, in comparison, was more streamlined, not as flagrantly toasty, and purer in apple/white fruit than the '93 Pol Roger Blanc. In addition, the former had a more of a crisp, lively, somewhat "flinty/steely" feel to it, much finer more persistent mousse, as well as alluringly playful almond (in the bouquet) and citrus notes not apparent in the former. The Ruinart also retained its focus over time, keeping its biscuity notes demure, whereas the latter seemed to "let go" after a while and give into its (overly) flamboyant, toasty inner-self.

The Ruinart's purity, apple/white fruit base, citrus highlights and flinty/steely nuances (a bubbly Chablis?) made it a sublime (though unsurprising) match with the fresh oysters. I did not venture trying the bubbly with the shooters though, as I feared the accompanying spirits would ruin the fine bubbly.



Next was a dish of Nougat with Savory Apricot Chutney and Toasted Fig Bread with:

1991 Coopers Creek, Hawkes Bay Late Harvest Riesling - Please note that the color of the wine was nowhere near that dark or dense, it was amber-gold with the slightest, light red-orange blush - I screwed up the colors of the wine when I fiddled with the picture in an attempt to make the food clearer.

So much for my feeble attempts at being artistic.

This wine was already tiring, with faint but telltale sherryish oxidation just starting to creep in quietly within its mildly honeyed apricot and peach liqueur flavors. I didn't mind the sherry nuances at all. I actually thought it added a bit of sad romance to the pairing.

I recalled instantly the venerable JC de Terry pairing a foie gras dish with a mildly sweetish Spanish sherry a few years ago, and I thought the pairing well-thought and natural - typical of JC to present something new (to me anyway) and, yet make it feel like something whistfully familiar.

This was followed by a Scallop and Cep Cappuccino with Forest Mushrooms which was intended for:

1992 Château La Fleur-Pétrus - I think this bottle from Pomerol was mildly tainted with TCA (i.e., 2,4,6-Trichloroanisole) - mildly "corked" - I say "mildly" because it did not exhibit any musty or "old cardboard" notes; rather, it seemed like the fruit and push were being masked/bound/held back by some invisible force that smelled vaguely of tin and plastic.

One could just catch a fleeting glimpse of what the wine could be or have been beneath that invisible ceiling, so I asked that the wine be set aside for later and proceeded to enjoy the dish.

The wine eventually opened up , but much more in the mouth than in the nose. By the time I had forayed into the next course, the wine's medium-bodied, earthy, broodingly dark plum/black fruit/dark cherry/black coffee/anise/vanilla-oak flavors had gained marginal breadth and power, but it could simply not fully break free of its spell of binding.

In the meantime, however, Bernd, always prepared, had opened a back-up bottle of 1993 Château Batailley which we quickly switched to, to accompany the earthy, mushroom-and-cream-enriched shellfish dish.

Though many may wonder at pairing a 5th Growth Pauillac (or a Pomerol, for that matter) with scallop, the key to the pairing here was the sauce. Scallop, to begin with has a distinct and persistent flavor, made more robust by pan-searing. In addition, the richly flavored and earthy Cep "Cappuccino" was not over-powering.

Together, they played nicely enough with this rustically charming, medium-bodied wine's simple, straightforward slightly unripe/vegetal, linear blackcurrant, pencil shavings, asphalt and vaguely smoky cedar - the caramelization of the seared scallops adding just a hint of savory/sweetness to the mix.

Yes, you can serve red with shellfish, for so long as the red is not a powerful one, which '93s, such as this, are generally not.

We continued with the Batailley to pair with the succulently tender Roasted Lamb Fillet, Braised Lamb Shoulder Samosa, Tomato Compote and Celery Purée, side by side with:

1993 Château Palmer - this 3rd Growth is generally recognized as over-performing and second only to 1st Growth Château Margaux in the Margaux appellation. At times, it is even said that the masculine Palmer closely rivals or even surpasses its more feminine and higher-born cousin.

This '93 was in fine shape and, to Bernd and I, the obvious wine of the night. I must admit, though from an "off-year", the Batailley and Palmer showed nicely - not over-ripe, over-extracted, over-oaked, over-manipulated or spoofulated so-called "modern" or "international" style that do perform well at blind tastings, but could do better in the realm of food-pairing (my own not-so-humble opinion, of course).

Speaking of food-pairing, from the picture on the right, I obviously enjoyed this wine with the lamb, judging from the serious damage I had already dealt them by the time I remembered to take a picture for my blog.

Though, due to the vintage, this wine did not possess the typical masculine Palmer muscle, push, heft or density, it was definitely no push-over. Hey, I outweigh Manny Pacquiao by about 17-20 pounds and I definitely wouldn't want to tangle with him. Mid-weight, smooth and supple, its mildly earthy cassis and cedar with finely-woven undertones of dark plum and violets didn't jump out at one like, say, the '99 would; rather, it lay back and allowed you to slowly explore its charms. At the same time, it allowed the food center stage, which, I feel, is important with food of this caliber.

At this point, a sorbet du jour was served, and, sensing a slow down in consumption pace, Bernd timely advised the staff to take its time with the next dish. This is a mark of a good host - sensitive to the peristaltic well-being of his guests.

I took this opportunity to grab a much needed cigarette break, and, thereafter, take a quick snapshot or two of my wife with Bernd.

It's such a pity Bernd's charming wife, Tina, is in their home in Germany. Though the evening was great fun as it was, it would have been even better if she were with us.

After trading a few stories about our children, Bernd gave his go-ahead for yet another course to be served: Roast Bresse Pigeon with Truffle Foie Gras Sauce. Though I loved the lamb, this was superlative, indeed. Those precious few who frequent my blog know that my favorite dish is roast pigeon - I pair it with reds from Bordeaux, Rhône, Burgundy, yes, Califoirnia, and, even once, a pinot noir from Alsace while in Riquewihr (ok, so that one wasn't a good idea, but I just had to try it - when in Rome and all...). Thus, having a roast pigeon dish (the pigeon flown in from Bresse, no less, that appellation of the legendary blue-footed chickens) was, indeed, a delightful surprise.

We segued into this dish with the '93 Château Palmer. I noted that the slightly gamey, robust, rustically honest pigeon, together with its rich (though not over-bearing) truffle-laced foie gras sauce seemed to lend the wine added weight, depth, and, well, "meatiness" - the truffle notes giving the Palmer added depth. This was most entertaining to me as I usually experience the wine influencing the food more than the other way around. Nicely done! If this was intentional on the chef's part, someone should give him a medal.

I enjoyed it so much, I totally forgot to take a picture of it. When I remembered, only unsightly bones were left, and, believe me, you wouldn't want to see that.

Thereafter, we were a bit hestitant to open yet another bottle, but were convinced by Stephan's gentle reassurance that it would be worth it. With an attractive plate of various cheeses, grapes and fruit compote:



2003 Weisser Schilfmandl Muskat Ottonel Schilfwein - Fresh, spiced, intense, pungent, floral, vanilla-honey-and-ultra-ripe-melon-infused white grape juice; balanced off with a healthy acidity. This sweet Austrian wine is absolutely new to me. Not thick, viscous or botrytis-rich as a Sauternes or even a lighter Barsac. Its substantially lighter style and body reminds me more of the Kracher Auslese Cuvée I had at an IWFS Austrian function late last May - but with very different fruit profiles, of course. This, aside from its dominant white grapiness, was definitely on the tropical side. Lively, it kicks up its heels.

The idea of sweet fruit interplay with the saltiness of bleu cheese is nothing novel, though; but the added freshness certainly was. Nice match, I liked it and the wine's liveliness certainly cleansed and rejuvenated the weary palate after such a feast.

The meal was ended on a further light note with a delicious Strawberry Soup with Whole Milk Ice Cream. Sounds a bit strange, but, believe me, you want to try this after such over-indulgence. My poor camera and pseudo-artistic skills simply do no justice to the dessert.

Many thanks, Bernd, and to Stephan and the chef as well. It was a magnificent meal, one we will always remember.