Farewell to customers and readers

Surprise!  A First Vine blog post.  I had to look back at the date of my last one – May 29, 2021 – to remind myself the last time I wrote something for this blog.

I’ve had breaks before, but this one is different.  At close of business on January 31, I’ll be shutting down the First Vine website, and this is my last post.

There are a bunch of reasons.  Getting stock is more difficult and takes longer.  Prices are going up, and not just because of tariffs.  And I’ve been feeling it’s time to move on for a while now.  Selling anything is difficult – don’t be fooled when people say “XYZ practically sells itself!”  That “practically” part has a lot to it.   And the difficulties have increased over the years, due partly to external economic circumstances.  First Vine rode the waves of the “great recession” coming one year after starting business, and now is exiting at the end of the second year of the pandemic.  In between there were plenty of successes, not least with the concept and the flexibility to choose wines myself rather than relying on other importers/distributors to get them.  But I don’t have the enthusiasm to try and reinvent the business anymore, a sign that it’s a good time to stop.

Now it’s on to new things.  In September, I started my first semester in Tufts University’s online Masters of Public Health/Epidemiology and Biostatistics program.  This is an extension of my long-term work and interest in environmental health and the decision to start it was spurred by the pandemic and long-standing problems like lead contamination in DC’s drinking water.  I hope to get a job with a local health or environment department or NGO when I finish.  One of the most rewarding parts of my previous environmental work has been that it could make a difference in people’s lives and health, and it will be great to be able to do that again.  I’d like to think that getting people good wine also made a difference in their well-being, but the world of wine has a lot more offerings than when I started First Vine.  Y’all will be in good hands.

So I hope you’ll indulge me in some reminiscing and perhaps a little sentimentality.  First Vine got its DC online alcohol license just about 15 years ago to the day.  Inventory arrived four months later and we officially started selling.  This blog started as a newletter five months after that and converted to a blog two years later.  Here are some things that stand out from all those years of importing, selling, and writing:

Winemakers.  People who grow grapes and make wine are farmers, cooks, chemists, and artists.  They often work on the “worst” land and contend with the elements and other things beyond their control to make a product that has greater consistency from year to year than anyone has a right to expect.  I’ve found that if I like someone’s wines, I probably like the someone who made them, too.  (That hasn’t necessarily been the case for artists or writers.)

Old Vines.  Wine is an exception in the agricultural world:  the product gets better as the plant that produces the fruit gets older.  Very old trees still produce apples, but I haven’t heard anyone say that the apples themselves are any better than the same varieties from younger trees.  Maybe really old oak trees give rise to better truffles than younger ones, but I haven’t come across any evidence of that.  It’s a comforting thought as I get older myself.  (Anyone remember those “You’re not getting older, you’re getting better” commercials?  Well, it can be both.)

Travel.  Importers routinely get invited to wine-producing places, and that was awesome.  But the junkets were far outshone by other trips when I could plant myself in a region.  Not only visit my producers (see Winemakers, above) but spend time to explore the countryside, towns, cities, restaurants, etc.  Seeing how the scrubbiness of the western part of Provence looks so much like California.  Tracking architectural changes in churches built during different centuries.  Comparing local bakeries.  Visiting city history museums.  Drinking wine from a village and eating cheese produced in the same village, knowing that the goats munched on the plants surrounding the vines.  Seeing restaurant menus change daily depending on what the farms within a 10 km radius had available.  (This last one is more common here these days, but it wasn’t in the mid- 2000s when I started.)

Changes.  If winemakers from the 18^th and 19^th century could travel to today, they’d recognize some of the wines, but almost nothing else about the business.  Advances in technology and communications invariably made the wine business into more of a global wine business.  You won’t find me waxing nostalgic about the old days, since we can now get pretty much any wine from anywhere in the world with a few keystrokes.  And yet, some things never change. I asked Tilar Mazzeo, author of The Widow Cliquot, what Madame might have thought about her champagne being owned by the same company that also owns her then-arch rival, Möet.  She was a fierce competitor, after all.  She hired pirates to evade sea blockades to get her product to customers in Russia, maintaining a market share that Möet couldn’t match.  And she developed the modern method of clarifying champagne and hid it from her competitors for years.  Ms. Mazzeo replied that Mme Cliquot-Ponsardin would likely have grudgingly admired the reach of LVMH and reconciled herself to be happy with the sales even if she had to grit her teeth doing it.  Still, she’d have no doubt maintained that her champagne was better than Möet’s.

More Changes.  Seriously, though, I feel like I started First Vine in horse-and-buggy times, even though it wasn’t all that long ago.  I actually placed many orders by fax in 2007, believe it or not.  And I had to train most of my producers to answer e-mails – even if the response was that they’d get back to me in a week or two.  (Before I said something about it, they’d eventually respond when they had the information I needed.  Meanwhile, I would assume they hadn’t received my e-mail and send another.) I also had to learn to negotiate.  I would base my offer on what I thought I could sell the wine for and work back to what I could pay the producer.  And I’d earnestly back it up with numbers. Every time, though, producers would suggest that we could “Couper le poire en deux.” (Cut the pear in two, or split the difference.)  After a few of those exchanges I realized what I could ask for and how to do it without the rigamarole on my part. I still had to do the homework, but just for me, not for them.

Still More Changes.  There’s a lot of handwringing in the wine world about how the youngsters are moving away from wine.  It’s a real concern for people who sell it.  But what I haven’t seen much is an acknowledgement of the wide world of beverages available to them (other than that those interlopers are stealing market share.)  Many of us old-timers gravitated toward wine because the world of beer and spirits wasn’t as broad, at least not what was available as we started taking alcohol seriously.  To be honest, I’m not sure I’d be quite the wine lover I am if I’d have had the current world of craft beer and spirits back in the day.  Maybe the key is to emphasize what wine does best in situations where people have more choices.  For example, if I ever opened a restaurant or bar (and please, kill me if I seem like I’m going to), I’d love to pair beer, wine, cocktails, and non-alcoholic drinks with each menu item as small flights. 

Colleagues.  People who sell wine for a living are an interesting bunch.  I’ve learned from many of you and also had the opportunity to share some off-the-charts memorable wines.  (I know where you live and will definitely be visiting.)  Then, the writers.  People who write about wine need to be jacks-of-all trades:  reporters, opinion writers, historians, reviewers.  I’m pleased that so many have taken it on with enthusiasm.  Despite the fact that almost no one who writes about wine makes a living doing it.  And I’m also grateful to the professional (non-wine) writers who have generously helped me along the way.  I’m not always a good student when it comes to editing or getting to the point, but you tried, and I appreciate it.

Customers.  I continue to be grateful that people liked our wines.  Friends and family, for sure.  But even more, the complete strangers who came across the website and ordered things they hadn’t tasted before.  And came back for more.  And to my fellow retailers who bought from First Vine, I really appreciate that you thought that wines I selected were things your customers would buy, too. 

Support.  What can I say about the people who supported me in the business all these years?  You provided encouragement and advice, plus opportunities for joy and commiseration.  I’d give you all a lifetime supply of fabulous wine if I could.  But I have to single out two people in particular.  First is Dare Wenzler, who shared my naivete and decided to take a leap and start the business with me.  What the hell were we thinking?  😉 The second is my husband Cy, who is patient, kind, and generous.  I couldn’t imagine having done this without you, and I’m grateful that you’re as excited about the next phase as I am.

That’s it for my last post.  Keep enjoying wine, everyone, and let’s raise a glass to the future.

Cheers!

Tom

P.S. I thought about posting one last recipe, but instead I’ll give you a list of my five favorites. You can find them all in the Recipes tab above. In theory, this blog will exist in digital perpetuity, so I hope you’ll be able to refer back when you want to.

Favorite recipes: Cassoulet, Cy’s Ginger Birthday Cake, Olive Oil Pine Nut Cake, Pork Cooked in Red Wine with Carrots, Roman-Style Cod.

If you’re counting calories, don’t count on a wine label

I can tell the weather is getting warmer when I start getting e-mails about how wine can help you lose weight and be beautiful. But these come-ons raise the issue of why we don’t see many nutrition labels on wine bottles. I decided to look at the rules for voluntary nutrition labeling. Now I understand why winemakers don’t bother. (Photo by Diana Polekhina on Unsplash.com)

As beach season approaches, I inevitably get more e-mails about the health benefits of wine.  The usual formula is wine = health and beauty aid + weight loss, with the occasional happy-time chaser.  I ignore them unless they seem to be based on actual studies.  One e-mail I recently received looked potentially worthwhile (or at least was vague enough for me not to dismiss it outright) so I asked for the report.  What I got was a one-page summary of “facts” that came from a company selling nutritional supplements, and it contained no more information than I could have found from Ms. Google myself.  Cue the sad trombone sound.

But it did remind me that I’ve been expecting mandatory nutrition labeling for wine to come for many years.  I can honestly say I’ve never seen a nutrition label on a wine bottle in real life.  I wondered why not, so I decided to take a look at the rules for voluntary nutrition labeling.  Long, wonky story short (which I hope you’ll still read), I think I’ve figured why wine labels don’t have nutrition information.  It has to do with what wine producers probably think are too-strict nutrition labeling criteria.  These criteria conflict with the leeway producers have in other items on the label.

First, a bit of terminology.  Many people think of the list of ingredients and nutrition labeling interchangeably.  FDA requires both for food products sold in the U.S.  But in fact, they’re different.  Both are voluntary for wine producers. 

The list of ingredients is the part that wine drinkers hope will give clues to how a wine is made and if anything other than grapes and yeast are in there, since anything that’s in the bottle is potentially subject to inclusion.  I’ve discussed labeling for things like additives and genetically-modified organisms before.  It’s not clear that substances used in farming or processing that aren’t intended as ingredients would make it on the wine’s ingredient label, such as pesticides or fertilizer.  And there is an issue about how the absence of those substances can be discussed.  If they’re “generally recognized as safe” (a regulatory term) or are found in amounts below EPA or FDA tolerance levels, then stating affirmatively that they’re not there can be interpreted as pejorative to other products, which FDA has forbidden in the past.

Nutrition labeling contains amounts of and calories from fats, carbohydrates, protein, certain vitamins and minerals, and alcohol (at least for foods containing alcohol).  This seems pretty straightforward.  But in practice, it’s not.  For one, alcohol producers can put a general label on to account for variation, called a Statement of Average Analysis.  Amounts of carbohydrates, fats, protein, and alcohol get to be displayed as a range.  The other option for producers is to be more specific and list the “Serving Facts” for the wine in that bottle.

Obviously, there can be considerable variation in the quantities listed on a statement of average analysis, and that makes the information much less useful.  But even a more specific label can be variable because of TTB’s rules for tolerances in measurement of nutrients and calories. 

You’ll find these variations in other foods, too.  For example, FDA regulations allow a 20 percent variation in the total calories per serving listed on the label.  Considering that your average five-ounce glass of dry wine contains about 125 calories, that would mean a 50 calorie spread with variation. 

When TTB first finalized calorie tolerances for voluntary wine nutrition labeling in 2004 and again in 2013, they were pretty strict.  The actual number of calories per serving could not be less than 10 calories below what’s listed on the label, and no more than five calories above.  So far, so good, and a lot stricter than what FDA allowed.  But the calorie rule conflicted with TTB’s tolerance on the percentage of alcohol listed on the label.

Since the vast majority of a dry wine’s calories come from alcohol, what seems like a small difference in actual vs. labeled alcohol percentage can mean a wider swing in calories.  TTB allows an alcohol variation of ±1.5% for wines 14% alcohol by volume and under, and ±1% for wines over 14%.  According to my calculations, wines that meet the alcohol tolerances could easily go afoul of the calorie rules.  The allowable differences in alcohol content make more than a ±12 difference in calories, so more than the 10 or 5 allowed.  In fact, most wines would be restricted to a ±0.5% tolerance for alcohol by volume at most if producers went by the calorie tolerance TTB proposed.

No surprise, then, that producers weren’t happy about the rules and that’s probably why we haven’t seen many nutrition labels on wine.  As I’ve written before, alcohol percentages on producers’ wine labels are often less than what’s actually in the bottle.  A 0.5% reduction on the label could just be simple rounding.  But there’s also a perception that higher-alcohol wines are lower in quality, so some producers may try to label the bottle with the least alcohol possible.

To be fair, part of this is also a tax issue, since wines above 14% alcohol by volume are taxed by the U.S. government at a higher rate than those below 14%.  If it’s legal to have a variation in alcohol on the label (within limits) producers would naturally opt to pay less in taxes for the same product.  There is also some natural variability among batches of the same wine (although I’d hope that you wouldn’t see a 1.5% difference in alcohol there. If so, there are other problems at the winery). There’s also a label size issue, since most wine labels are pretty full already.

Whatever their motivations, wine producers asked TTB for more leeway, something more like what FDA allows.  And at the end of September, 2020, they got it.  The new rules allow a serving of wine to have up to 20% more calories than those listed on the label.  For actual calories lower than what’s on the label, TTB says calories must be “within a reasonable range below the labeled or advertised amount (within good manufacturing practice limitations).”  I’m not sure what that means, but I doubt that producers are worried about the wine having fewer calories than the amount listed on the label.

Allowing 20% more calories per serving than on the label definitely means that a wine can contain 1.5% more alcohol by volume than the labeled percentage and not exceed the allowable calorie tolerance.  And since most consumers aren’t counting on wine to meet a daily minimum requirement for calories, having fewer calories than those on the label isn’t really an issue.  Winemakers who were on the fence about nutrition labeling have more incentive to go ahead with it, if they have enough space on the label.

For consumers, the potential 25 extra calories in a glass of wine might not be a big deal.  Still, I’d rather be correctly informed.  A 20% tolerance in foods and beverages is too much.  Consuming 20% more calories than you thought you were each day isn’t something to take lightly.  Not to mention consuming more alcohol than you might have intended.  FDA and TTB need to do better.

—————————-

At this point, I thought I should give the background and math for the figures in this post.  Feel free to skip this part if you’d rather.

A serving of wine is 5 fluid ounces.  Fluid ounces are a measure of volume, not weight.  Five fluid ounces is ½ cup plus 2 tablespoons (or 5/8 cup).  By weight, this is more or less 150 grams.  A glass of wine that’s labeled as 13.5% alcohol by volume will contain about 15 grams of alcohol, or about 10% of the wine by weight.  This is because alcohol is less dense than water.  For example, 100 ml of water weighs 100 grams.  But 100 ml of ethanol (the alcohol in wine) weighs only 78.9 grams.  So it’s not a one-to-one calculation to get the weight of the alcohol in a glass of wine.

It’s important to have the weight of alcohol because calories are calculated based on the weight of the particular nutrient.  Carbohydrates and proteins both contain 4 calories per gram (cal/g), while fat contains 9 cal/g and alcohol contains 7 cal/g. 

The average glass of wine might contain 0.1 gram of protein, for 0.4 calories.  A dry wine that contains 15 grams/liter of residual sugar means that the five-ounce glass of wine will contain 2 grams of sugar, for 8 calories.  There are probably about another 2 grams of other carbohydrates in there, for another 8 grams.  That puts the non-alcohol total at around 16.4 calories per serving.

However, the 15 grams of alcohol contains 105 calories.  So a glass of 13.5% dry wine will have 121.4 calories, with alcohol making up 86% of the calories.  More residual sugar means more calories, but even a wine with 40 grams/liter of residual sugar will only contribute 6 grams of sugar, or 24 calories, to a serving.  Alcohol is clearly the calorie driver in wine.

————

I assume now that you’re all vaccinated and are eating every meal possible in restaurants rather than continue to cook at home… but seriously, I feel like I want to get back to every place I enjoy and eat everything without shopping, cooking, or cleanup.  Not for every meal, but more than I expected.

If I am going to cook at home for just the two of us, it has to be something easy.  No need for leftovers, either.  Burgers are a favorite.  We bought some Impossible Burger brand meat substitute recently and I did some research on how best to cook it.  The Los Angeles Times did a whole bunch of testing and it’s worth following their advice.  The burgers turn out spectacularly well. The key points: fry the patties and use some oil in the pan, and don’t salt the patties before you cook them. Load up on other flavors (including some of the sauces in the article) rather than mixing anything into the burgers themselves.

So the recipe this time is something to serve with your burgers:  Green Bean, Edamame, and Corn Salad.  It’s not the season for any of these vegetables at the farmers’ markets yet, but you can get frozen corn and edamame (and you don’t need to thaw them), plus green beans are available year-round in the grocery store.  Everything’s cooked in a blazing-hot skillet and dressed with a little soy sauce.  It’s great with a burger, roast chicken, or salmon.

Cantine Borga uses old family photos on its labels. They look great on the wine store shelf or on your table! I didn’t realize that Cabernet Franc was grown in Italy, but many French varietals are grown in the Veneto and other northern Italian regions.

For wine, in this case I’d go with a lighter red, like Cantine Borga Cabernet Franc ($13).  Open it and put it in the fridge for a bit.  About 20 minutes is good.  The little chill makes it perfect in warm weather, and super easy to drink.  If you’re itching to get back out to eat, like I am, you’ll still need something to eat and drink at home. In this case, uncomplicated is still delicious!

Cheers!

Tom

Green Bean, Edamame, and Corn Salad

Serves 4-6

12 ounces green beans (I use the ready-trimmed and washed package), cut to about 1-inch pieces

1 cup frozen shelled edamame

10 ounces frozen corn (about 2 cups)

2-3 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 small onion, finely chopped

½ of a red, orange, or yellow bell pepper, finely chopped

1-1/2 tablespoons soy sauce (or more, to taste)

1-1/2 tablespoons water

Salt and freshly-ground black pepper

Heat 1 tablespoon of oil in a large nonstick skillet (at least 12 inches in diameter) until shimmery and almost smoking.  Add the green beans and a pinch of salt.  Stir fry, stirring pretty often, for 6-8 minutes, until the beans have lots of brown spots and are softened.  Remove the beans to a bowl or plate and set aside.

Heat another tablespoon of oil and add the onions and bell pepper.  Stir fry for a minute, then add the edamame and corn.  Fry for another 2-3 minutes, adding a little more oil to prevent sticking if necessary.  The corn will likely just begin to brown, which is what you want.  Stir in the reserved green beans. Stir in the soy sauce and water, plus some black pepper, and cook for 2 minutes more.  Taste for salt and soy.  Serve hot or warm.

Not quite Chewy.com, but maybe Drinkie.biz?

This post is a look back at my online wine business after our year of Covid-19 shutdowns. Photo by Nick Bolton on Unsplash.com.

When the official Covid lockdown began back in mid-March of 2020, many people made an abrupt shift to working from home.  For those first months, at least here in DC, most businesses were closed except for “essential” ones, and restaurants had to make the change to outside dining or takeout only.  We were encouraged to stay home as much as possible, even limiting our trips to the grocery store.  And because there was a lot that public health officials didn’t know about the virus, many of us cleaned pretty much everything that crossed the threshold into the house with disinfectant.

Since Covid vaccines are now in wide distribution, most restrictions on businesses have eased.  We’ve learned a lot more and aren’t sponge-bathing our groceries any longer.  By the end of this month, many things will seem “normal” again in terms of shopping, eating out, and travel.  With appropriate use of masks, of course.

So I thought I’d look back on the past year and see what a difference knowledge and gradual reopening has made on my small part of the wine world.  Alcohol sellers were considered “essential” from the start here in DC and were allowed to continue operating only with restrictions on capacity, plus distancing and mask requirements.  My online business basically had no restrictions, other than safety concerns for delivery. 

Being only online was definitely an advantage at first.  Even though most local walk-in wine shops had websites, they weren’t necessarily designed to sell everything online for pickup or delivery.  This seems counter-intuitive, for sure.  But in many cases the sites weren’t connected to the stores’ point-of-sale inventory control systems.  And they were really more like browsing spaces – just like many wine stores are – but without the in-store help you get from the staff.  Not necessarily the thing for a quick strike.

[Note that I’m talking here about ordering from local wine shops and liquor stores, rather than national online wine-selling websites or buying direct from wineries across the country.  While First Vine ships all over the U.S., most of our sales are for local delivery.] 

Thanks to my working website, orders poured in.  People staying home wanted wine delivered!  After eight weeks I had sold out of all of my least-expensive wines and after three months I’d made a huge dent in the mid-range selections, too.  I put my most expensive wines on sale for the duration of the shutdown, which also pleased my regulars.  I’d estimate that 60 percent of the orders came from new customers, which was something that hadn’t happened in years. 

Naturally, things slowed down at that point.  The new customers who had come only for the cheaper wines didn’t order more expensive ones.  I’ve discussed the impact of how the pandemic changed finding new wines and slowed ordering from Europe in other posts.  And by June, people were less afraid to go into wine shops and liquor stores.  I remember thinking that any errand was a chance to get out of the house, and I’m pretty sure that wasn’t just me.  People still tried to minimize excursions, but were less stringent about it.  Finally, there was eventually more competition:  wine stores, to their credit, adapted to online ordering.  They had the same supply problems I did if they were getting non-U.S. wines from importers and distributors, but they caught up on the basics.  Still, monthly sales in 2020 beat their 2019 counterparts even after people were less reluctant to leave their homes. 

Pre-covid, the general rule was that most decisions about food and wine were made within an hour of people having a meal (according to people who study such things).  Having to plan and limit our visits to grocery stores and other shops changed that.  But we’re almost certainly headed into a summer of reopening and more people going to the office.  People will also eat out more, and buy their wine there to have with dinner at restaurants.  Will there also be more last-minute shopping for wine and groceries, tipping back to less online wine sales?  Or has wine become more like pet supplies on Chewy.com, which we’ve all found are easier to order online than to lug home?  (Glass bottles are heavy, after all…) Or, a third option: will there be more of a hybrid of online sales/delivery and impulse buying – online shopping to stock up and some on-the-way-home shopping for something different for tonight?

Obviously, I don’t know the answer.  I’m a look at the data kind of guy, and as I’ve said before, we don’t have good data on wine sales.  It’s too early to project based on one kind of crazy year. But I’ll certainly report back this fall once we’ve got something to analyze.

———————

I’m still cooking at home a lot and making new things.  When the pandemic started, I was happy to read through cookbooks and make shopping lists for those once every 10 days or so trips to the grocery store.  But I have to admit to being lazier about it all now.  Well, maybe not lazier, but I definitely need something to point me toward a particular type of food or a new recipe. Otherwise, I’ll fall back on the old standbys.

Last week I read a lovely, touching article by Yasmin Khan, author of Persian and Middle Eastern cookbooks.  She talked about a dish that her mother made for her when she’d be home sick as a child, and later during very difficult and painful times in her life.  She associated that dish with comfort and nurturing, and makes it now when she needs those things.

Loobia Polo is a layered dish with rice alternating with a sauce made from ground meat and green beans. I used ground lamb when I made it. Some versions have potatoes, either mixed in or used on the bottom of the pot. They form a top crust when you turn the completed dish out onto a platter — although mine stuck a little. But I took Julia Child’s advice for when things go awry in the kitchen: I scraped the potatoes out of the pot and put them on top before serving. As she said, who’s to know?

It’s called Loobia Polo, a dish featuring a sauce containing lamb or beef (usually), lots of green beans, potatoes, and tomato that gets layered with rice and gently steamed on the stove.  With a suitable amount of butter the rice on the bottom of the pot gets nice and crusty, and that layer becomes the top when you turn the whole thing out of the pot. 

My husband Cy is half-Iranian, so I asked if he’d ever had this.  He hadn’t, and while he’d had plenty of rice dishes, he’d never even heard of this one.  Of course, I had to look it up.  Ms. Khan has a recipe for it in The Saffron Tales, but I also looked at about half a dozen more.  Some had a layer of potatoes on the bottom of the pot instead of mixed in, so the finished dish has a layer crusty potatoes on top.  There was a huge range of spices in the various recipes.  So I decided to make a conglomerate.

This takes a while, no doubt about it.  It’s not simple, although nothing is particularly complicated.  You’ll end up with plenty, and it reheats well.  And, as Ms. Khan described, it’s incredibly comforting.

I served the Loobia Polo with Domaine la Croix des Marchands Vieilles Vignes ($17).  It’s made from Syrah and Brauchol, a grape that’s indigenous to the Gaillac region, where the wine is made.  Aged in older oak barrels so it’s not oaky, but smooth, deeply fruity, and more full-bodied than you might think when you take a sniff.  It’s as comforting as the meal, and a great accompaniment.

Cheers!

Tom

Loobia Polo

Serves 6-8

2 cups basmati rice, rinsed in cold water a few times to remove excess starch, and drained

¼ teaspoon saffron threads

A large pinch of sugar

¼ cup freshly-boiled water

Vegetable oil

1 pound green beans, trimmed and cut into about one-inch pieces

1 large onion, chopped

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 pound ground beef, lamb, or turkey, around 90% lean, or 2 pounds cremini mushrooms (see note below)

1 teaspoon ground turmeric

1 teaspoon ground cumin

1 teaspoon ground coriander seed

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

½ teaspoon smoked paprika

1/8 teaspoon ground cloves

¼ teaspoon ground allspice

¼ teaspoon cayenne

6 tablespoons tomato paste

1 cup water

¼ cup freshly-squeezed lemon juice

1 large russet potato, scrubbed and cut crosswise into ¼-inch slices

2 tablespoons butter

Salt

Use a 5-quart nonstick pot with a lid – combine 2 quarts of water with 3 tablespoons of salt in the pot and bring to a boil.  Add the rinsed rice and boil for 6 minutes.  Drain and then rinse the rice in cold water to stop the cooking.  Let it drain again thoroughly. (It seems like a large amount of salt, but this is the only chance to season the rice, and any salt on the outside of the grains gets rinsed away.)

Grind the saffron and sugar together in a small mortar (or rub them with your fingers in a small bowl), then stir in the ¼ cup of boiling water and set aside.

In a large skillet that has a lid, heat a tablespoon of oil.  When hot, add the green beans and a bit of salt.  Stir-fry over fairly high heat until the beans are just cooked and have some browning, 8-10 minutes.  Transfer the cooked beans to a bowl.  (You’re going to cook the beans again, but with acidic ingredients so they won’t really soften more. They need to be reasonably well-cooked or they’ll still be crunchy at the end.)

In the same skillet, heat another 3 tablespoons of oil and add the onion and the turmeric.  Saute until the onion is soft and beginning to brown on the edges, about 10 minutes.  Stir in the garlic and cook for a minute.  Add the ground meat and cook, breaking the meat up with a spoon, until it has lost all its pink color and any liquid from the meat has evaporated.  Add the cumin, coriander, pepper, cinnamon, paprika, cayenne, black pepper, allspice, and cloves, plus a half-teaspoon of salt and cook for 30 seconds or so.  Stir in the tomato paste and cook for 2 minutes.  Then stir in the green beans, add the cup of water and the lemon juice.  Mix well.  Heat the mixture until just boiling, then reduce the heat to simmering, put the lid on, and cook for 20 minutes.  The sauce should be nearly dry, so cook it uncovered for a few more minutes if it’s not, or add more water if it’s starting to stick.  Taste for salt.  Set the sauce aside.

Heat the butter and 1 tablespoon of oil over medium heat in the 5-quart nonstick pot until hot.  Cover the bottom of the pot with potato slices.  Cover the potato with one third of the rice and press to compact a little, then drizzle one third of the saffron mixture over the rice.  Spread one third of the sauce on the saffron-tinged rice.  Continue with another two layers of rice, saffron water, and sauce.  Pour 1/3 cup of water around the inside edge of the pot.

Take a kitchen towel and place it on the counter.  Center the lid for the 5-quart pot on the towel, then gather the towel edges together so that the towel conforms to the shape of the lid.  Put the lid on the pot and secure the towel edges to the lid handle so that there’s no towel sticking beyond the pot (or at least only a little) – you don’t want the towel to burn.  (My pot has a round lid handle, and I secure the towel around it with a rubber band.)

Cook over medium heat for 10 minutes, then turn the heat to low and continue to cook for another 35 minutes.  Turn off the heat and let everything sit for 5 minutes.  Then remove the lid.  Place a serving dish over the pot, and carefully turn the whole assembly over (using potholders, of course) and set it down on the counter.  You should hear a satisfying “plop” sound as the contents slide down on the dish.  There may be some potatoes that stick to the bottom.  If so, use a spatula to get them off and put them on the top of the Loobia Polo.  (Mine definitely had some stuck potato slices.) Serve hot.

Note:  If you’d like to use mushrooms, chop them roughly. After cooking the green beans, heat 2 tablespoons of oil until roaring hot.  Add the mushrooms and a little salt and cook for a minute to coat the mushrooms in oil.  Turn the heat to medium and put a lid on for 3 minutes or so.  Then remove the lid and cook the mushrooms to evaporate the liquid and get them a little browned.  Put them in the bowl with the green beans. Cook the onions and garlic next as described, add the spices, then add the mushrooms and green beans. Then add the tomato paste and cook it, and proceed as directed with the water and lemon juice.

Losing smell and taste when they’re your job

Professional tasters rely on their senses of smell and taste. Loss of both has been a symptom of Covid-19. And people don’t always get their senses back fully after recovery. (Photo by Elle Hughes on Unsplash.)

To most people, a temporary loss of their senses of smell and taste might be annoying at worst.  But what about when your livelihood depends on those senses?

A friend sent me a link to a Reuter’s article on French wine tasters who’ve had Covid-19 and experienced losses of taste and smell.  For many, these senses returned after recovery but weren’t the same as before.  According to one enologist quoted in the article, she lost the ability to taste subtler flavors that contribute to many wines’ taste profiles.  And although she has been trying to retrain herself by deliberately smelling and tasting those flavors, progress is slow for some and nonexistent for others. 

We tend to think of Covid-19 affecting the workforce by physically not being able to come to work, or by losing their jobs in an industry that relies on in-person interaction.   Obviously, other people’s jobs are affected, too.  Loss of smell and taste has become enough of an issue that French associations representing wine businesses have asked President Macron and Prime Minister Castex to move professional tasters up in the queue for vaccination.  Not just to protect their members’ livelihoods, but to ensure quality and continuity of a resource considered essential to the culture.

It’s tempting to downplay the impact on what you’d think is a small group whose jobs seem esoteric, and frankly, a dream come true for many.  But it affects more than just the wine industry.  Consider this:  every manufactured food and beverage has been tasted over and over by expert tasters.  Even if it’s something that has been made for years, it gets tasted every day.  (Trust me, that was part of my job when I worked in food product development.) And products with any kind of fragrance get examined by professional “noses,” even apart from how they might taste – plus plenty of non-edible products get sniffed as well.  Think cleaning products and cosmetics, for example. Scientific instruments can only go so far.  In the end, people have to decide if these products meet whatever aroma and flavor requirements are necessary.

This applies to foods we don’t think of as “manufactured,” too, such as restaurant food.  When you go to a favorite restaurant and order a dish you like, you expect it to be the same every time.  Of course, fresh ingredients being what they are, the dish might not taste the same as before – except that the chef can account for the vagaries and make adjustments.  Chefs are essentially tasters at heart.

In the wine world, wineries rely on professional tasters to make the best products they can.  In some cases, those “professionals” are the winemakers themselves.  But they often turn to others for a variety of issues.  You might think that producing wine that appeals to a wide range of people, whether they’re professional tasters or not, would be enough.  However, a supertaster could detect something that might become more pronounced as a wine ages, for good or bad.  That person could also put a current vintage in the context of previous ones, or assist in making blends that promote greater consistency. (Wine critics are tasters too, although they work for the wine-drinking public rather than producers.)

Another issue: Whether intentionally or not, these tasters help form the institutional memory of wineries.  They often work with the same wineries for decades and become part of the fabric of the place, and are, even if anonymously, a huge factor in a winery’s reputation.  Of course, new tasters can be trained to take over those duties.  People’s senses of smell and taste tend to fade with age, so these tasters would have to be replaced eventually.  But no one wants to be stuck in a situation where an important resource suddenly gets sidelined.

Reading the Reuters article made me think back on my early working life in a research facility. Smell was an important tool on the production line. A sudden change in smell could mean that there was a problem with the materials or the machinery. No doubt that’s true for many people’s jobs, even if they’re not always aware of it. Yet another reason to protect ourselves from Covid.

——————–

Happy one month into spring, everyone!  We’re alternating between gorgeous weather and wind and cold here.  Starting with Novrooz, or Persian New Year, through Easter, and sliding into May, it has also been a month of eating and drinking on our front porch even when it’s chilly.  After a long season where it was definitely too cold, we aren’t deterred by weather we wouldn’t have sat outside in during the pre-Covid era.

This has meant trying out new drinks and nibbles. David Lebovitz has been my go-to for many of the recipes.  Like his Liaison and Ménage à Quatre cocktails from his Drinking French book.  And a snack that took me a few times to get right, Salty Olive Crisps in My Paris Kitchen.**

These were the two most winsome in my first batch of David Lebovitz’s Salted Olive Crisps. Most of them didn’t look this uniform, though. I’ve since tinkered with the recipe, including adding raisins.

They’re savory biscotti with chopped almonds and olives in them – baked once, then sliced and baked again to dry them out.  But instead of free-form dough logs you’d make for regular biscotti, these have more of a cake or quick bread batter baked in a loaf pan.  This makes them more delicate and harder to slice.  Also, since the batter is thinner, the added olives and almonds tend to sink while the cake is in the oven.  I set out to fix these problems, and also add another mix-in and a sprinkling of coarse salt on the top.

[The following paragraph contains baking nerdiness.  You may skip to the next one to avoid it…]

My first thought was that I could coat the mix-ins with some of the flour mixture to keep them from sinking.  But more importantly, since half the flour is whole wheat, they’d need some time before putting them in the oven to make sure the flour absorbs the liquid and would thicken a bit (also helping keep the mix-ins from sinking).  Easy enough by letting the batter rest.  However, since they’re only leavened with baking soda, the resting time would also allow some of the soda-generated leavening bubbles to escape.  Adding ¼ teaspoon of baking powder counteracts bubble loss, since baking powder is also heat activated – some bubbles get generated in the oven.  I decided to add ¼ cup of golden raisins to the mix because their little bit of sweetness played well with the saltiness of the olives.  Finally, the coarse salt on top reminds you that these are savory, and adds a little zing, too.

[End nerdiness.]

Enjoy the crisps with any beverage you like.  Since we still have chilly weather, I’m recommending two medium-bodied wines from our new producer in Abruzzo.  Chiara Ciavolich’s family has been in Abruzzo since the 16^th century, when they fled Bugaria which was under control of the Ottoman Empire.  Her Montepulciano ($16) and Pecorino ($19) are delicious with warm- and cold-weather foods.  Think of them as a nice way to get through vaccination season.  And by the way, the crisps smell great while they’re baking, so I hope you’ll get to experience it.

Cheers!

Tom

** David Lebovitz has been vocal about guidelines for reprinting his recipes, as you can read on his website.  Totally reasonable and understandable.  He prefers that writers link to his website for recipes, and that you ask permission from the publisher if you’re going to print them verbatim.  (The one thing I can say in defense of bloggers is that I’ve tried this before, and you can definitely track publishers’ responses in geologic time when you ask.  Unless you’re a big name, there’s no incentive for them to respond.) However, as far as I can tell, the recipes for the three items I mentioned aren’t on Liebovitz’s site.  You can find the Ménage à Quatre in this article that he wrote for Saveur magazine.  Drinking French and My Paris Kitchen are available for purchase here and here.  Other bloggers have reprinted the recipes verbatim, but I won’t link to them myself since they almost certainly didn’t have permission.  Because I have created my own version of the Salted Olive Crisps and rewritten the text, I meet the criteria for calling them “Adapted from,” so that’s what I’ve posted with the recipe below.

Savory Olive, Almond, and Raisin Crisps

Adapted from Salted Olive Crisps found in My Paris Kitchen by David Lebovitz

Makes 30 to 36 crisps

½ cup (70 grams) all-purpose flour (flour spooned into ½ cup measure and leveled off if not weighed)

½ cup (70 grams) whole-wheat flour

1 tablespoon granulated sugar

1 teaspoon herbes de Provence, or ½ teaspoon dried thyme

½ teaspoon fine salt

½ teaspoon baking soda

¼ teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1 cup buttermilk (or 1 tablespoon lemon juice plus enough milk to get to the 1-cup mark. You can use lemon juice and almond milk for a vegan variation.)

1/3 cup slivered raw almonds, coarsely chopped (45 grams)

1/3 cup (60 grams) packed, coarsely chopped pitted black olives (dry them in a paper towel if they’re in brine)

¼ cup golden raisins (30 grams), roughly chopped

Flaked or coarse salt

Olive oil for coating pan

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.  Cut a piece of parchment to fit the bottom of a 9” x 5” loaf pan (preferably with straight up-and-down rather than sloping sides, but don’t worry about it, use what you have).  Brush the inside of the pan all over with olive oil.  Then put the parchment in the bottom and lightly oil it, too.

In a bowl whisk together the flours, dried herbs, fine salt, pepper, baking powder, and baking soda.  Set aside 1-1/2 tablespoons of the flour mixture.  In another bowl, mix the chopped olives, almonds, and raisins.  Add the reserved flour mixture, and toss with your fingers to separate and coat every piece.  Stir the buttermilk into the remaining flour mixture with a spatula, then add the coated mix-ins.  Let the batter sit on the counter for 10 minutes.

Pour the rested batter into the prepared pan.  Sprinkle the top lightly with coarse salt, a couple of big pinches worth.  Set in the oven and bake for around 30 minutes.  You can tell it’s done because the center will feel firm and the loaf will start coming away from the sides of the pan.  Turn the loaf out onto a cooling rack, remove the paper, and set it right side up to cool for at least 30 minutes, preferably 45.

In the meantime, turn the oven to 325 degrees F, or 300 degrees F if you have a convection oven.  (The convection setting can help the crisps brown more quickly.) Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone baking mats.

Holding the outside edges of the cooled loaf firmly with your hand to keep the edges from crumbling, slice the loaf crosswise with a sharp serrated bread knife as thinly as possible, a maximum of ¼-inch per slice.  You’ll have to hold the loaf right up to where you’re slicing, so be careful.  Despite your best efforts, there will be some crumbling.  You can push pieces that crumble off back onto a slice; sometimes they’ll stick and sometimes they won’t.  But try it nonetheless.  (Go ahead and eat the bits that won’t reattach.)

Lay the slices down on the baking sheets and bake for anywhere from 30 to 50 minutes.  Flip the slices and rotate the baking sheets after 15 minutes.  You’re looking for them to be a deep golden brown but not burnt, so watch carefully after about 20 minutes.  If they’re not browning after 30 minutes (which happens more than half the time for me), flip the slices again and then bake them in five-minute intervals until they’re done.  If some of them get done before the others, remove them to a cooling rack while the rest continue baking.

Remove the pans from the oven and let the crisps cool completely on a rack before serving.  They’ll keep for about five days in an airtight container at room temperature.

A regulatory axe to grind (or throw)

My husband Cy and I never miss the Health Code Violations blurbs in the Washington Post every Thursday.  While it seems a bit ghoulish, they shine a light on how local government functions.  Admittedly, it’s not nice to read that a favorite restaurant or grocery store had a rodent or insect infestation.  But some entries are for alcohol-related violations, and the citations and fines are issued by the city’s Alcoholic Beverage Regulatory Administration, or ABRA, which also regulates First Vine.

Health Code Violations get reported in the Washington Post every Thursday. Interestingly, many of them are related to alcohol regulation — which seems to apply in areas you wouldn’t think it did. Some of the listings are real head-scratchers, but this one about axe throwing really stood out.

One of today’s entries made us scratch our heads.  As you can see in the photo, a place called Kick Axe Throwing got a $1,000 fine from ABRA for hosting – wait for it — axe throwing. 

Seriously?  A place with axe throwing in the name got fined for axe throwing? And it’s prohibited?  Of course, this leads to all sorts of questions, like how they got a license in the first place if it’s prohibited.  Not to mention whether alcohol and axes are a good mix.

But what it really points out is that alcohol regulation has tendrils in a lot of different things.  It also overlaps other regulatory areas like health and public safety – which is how some things like this end up in the Health Code Violations column.  It’s true for ABRA, and I’m sure it’s true for the alcohol regulators where you live, too. 

ABRA issues all different kinds of permits and licenses for various businesses, and every business has some quibble about parts of the regulations which seem either burdensome or not quite appropriate.  Particularly if they want to do something new.  For example, the online-only alcohol license didn’t exist when I applied for a liquor license.  The agency put “internet only” somewhere on the original document because they didn’t have a category for it.  All of the regulations for walk-in liquor stores still applied to the license, including distance between my storage and other retailers, and not being too close to public schools and parks. Even though the general public couldn’t enter and buy.  I once had to sit and talk with an ABRA inspector at length about my business because it didn’t fit the walk-in license class I had, and he’d never inspected an online-only business before.  Some years later, ABRA solved the issue and developed online-only licenses. 

This was a minor inconvenience.  But some businesses end up getting crammed into regulations or categories that they don’t believe fit them.  Kind of like Cinderella’s stepsisters and the glass slipper. 

In addition to its liquor license to serve alcohol, Kick Axe Throwing apparently has what ABRA calls an Entertainment Endorsement.  According to ABRA’s website, this endorsement allows alcohol establishments to:

• Offer live entertainment, including a singer, band, or musical ensemble, poetry reading, trivia, karaoke, DJ, comedy show, or drag show.
• Provide an area or space for dancing.
• Charge an entrance fee that is not directly applied to the purchase of food and drink.

However, current DC Covid regulations prohibit live entertainment for the time being to lessen person-to-person transmission.  While this is a public health measure, live entertainment falls under ABRA’s entertainment endorsement for businesses that serve alcohol.  Venues with the endorsement are still allowed to sell food and beverages, following the city’s guidelines for doing so.  I don’t know for sure, but it looks like Kick Axe Throwing may have allowed customers or staff members to engage in axe throwing, which by ABRA’s regulation constitutes live entertainment for endorsement purposes in this case.  Because the city’s Covid live entertainment ban was allegedly violated, the venue received a fine. 

ABRA also issues fines to businesses with liquor licenses that aren’t enforcing city mask regulations, or that violate other provisions of the city’s Covid restrictions.  Even though those seem like health department functions. My understanding is that police or an ABRA inspector must witness the activity before a citation or fine can be issued. 

According to its website, Kick Axe Throwing’s owners feel that the venue’s operation doesn’t fit the entertainment endorsement.  Here’s what the company’s home page says:

“Kick Axe Throwing® & ​THRōW Social™ (our sister venue upstairs) will be temporarily closed due to no fault of our own.

​“D.C. qualifies our games as ‘live entertainment’ even though each reservation is private and we follow all social distancing and safety guidelines, including 25% capacity, staggered start times, contactless check-in, mask requirements for all, sanitization between all reservations, and have invested many thousands to make sure everyone felt safe. At this time, we do not feel we can stay open for just food & beverage and still cover our team members’ salaries. 

“Hopefully, D.C. restrictions will be lessened soon and our people will be able to come back to work, but we do not think that will be for five or six weeks at a minimum. Ironically, we do not qualify as ‘Live Entertainment’ for government aid and will not be able to receive the Shuttered Venue Grant.”

I’m not going to weigh in on what’s fair and what’s not here, or on the particular incident in question.  That last statement is interesting, though – that the company qualifies as providing live entertainment in some cases but not in others.  It may be something that the city and/or federal government have to explore when it comes to things like pandemic assistance. 

Additionally, ABRA may develop some license changes or new categories to reflect operating conditions of companies like Kick Axe Throwing.  The agency recently created new licenses for DC-located wine, beer, and spirits producers to sell product at the city’s farmers’ markets, so they’re not static when it comes to new business plans.

But this situation is definitely an example of unexpected things that happen in the wide, wonderful world of alcohol regulation.  You never know where the axe will fall… 😉

—————-

We had sleet here yesterday, it left ice pellets on top of ice sheets on every surface.  So even if we were inclined to go pandemic grocery shopping, it was difficult to leave the house.  We didn’t lose power or water, so it wasn’t more than inconvenient for those of us fortunate enough to work from home.

In this situation, my first impulse is to turn to dry goods – legumes, rice, pasta, etc.  And a favorite easy meal is a combination of lentils and rice cooked with lots of onion and spices.  If I have a little bit of sausage in the freezer, I’ll add it.  But it’s not necessary.  If I have chicken or vegetable stock, I might use it to cook the rice.  Water is perfectly good, too, and it makes the dish taste more lentil-y.  

Ice pellets on top of ice sheets, courtesy of yesterday’s storm. We didn’t lose power or water, though, like parts of the southern U.S.

This combination is served the world over, and has different names depending on how it’s spiced.  I’m going with cumin, cinnamon, turmeric, and cayenne here, so it’s a sort of Mujadara.  Mujadara is a typical side dish in many middle eastern countries.  It makes a nice main dish, too – either alone or with some protein mixed in it.  Warm and comforting, easily made on the stovetop, and great as leftovers.  Nothing here to dislike!

Cold weather seems to call for red wine, but I think a substantial white wine also works with this dish.  Ciavolich Aries Pecorino ($19) is a new First Vine selection, made in Abruzzo.  Pecorino isn’t a wine we see too much here in the DC area. It’s generally on wine lists at better Italian restaurants, but not necessarily in wine shops. 

I’ve been talking with Chiara Ciavolich, the winemaker, about her family’s connection to the land in Abruzzo, dating back to the 16^th century.  I’ll be writing about it soon.  But growing Pecorino grapes is a natural for Chiara because her family were shepherds when they first came to Italy from Bulgaria.  Pecora is Italian for sheep.  Why would a grape be named after sheep?  Well, you’ll have to stay tuned to find out.

In the meantime, stay warm and dry.  We’ve been promised some melting, but for now there’s plenty of Mujadara left over and you’ve all been patient about putting off deliveries until the roads aren’t icy.  Thanks for your understanding!

Tom

Note: you can make this a more Mediterranean dish by substituting red pepper flakes, plus dried rosemary, thyme, and oregano, plus a bit of crushed fennel seed for the spices.

Mujadara – Lentils and Rice with Onion and Spices

Serves 4 as a main course, 6 as a side dish

1-1/2 cups lentils (either brown, green, or Puy)

Olive oil

½ pound lamb, pork, or turkey sausage, sliced, or ground meat (optional)

1 large or 2 medium onions, cut in half lengthwise and sliced

4 garlic cloves, minced

2 teaspoons ground cumin

¾ teaspoon ground cinnamon

½ teaspoon ground turmeric

¼ teaspoon cayenne

1-1/2 cups white rice (preferably Basmati, but regular long-grain rice is OK)

Salt

Water or vegetable stock

Put the lentils in a medium saucepan and cover them with at least an inch of cold water.  Bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat and cook the lentils until soft.  Brown lentils take about 15 minutes, Puy lentils take around 25.  Drain the lentils and set aside.

In the meantime, if you’re using sausage or meat, brown them first.  In a large, heavy pot that also has a lid, heat a couple of tablespoons of oil until hot and add the sausage or meat (add a pinch of salt if it’s ground meat).  Cook until lightly browned, then remove it with a slotted spoon to a bowl, leaving as much fat behind as possible.

You’ll need to have about 3 tablespoons of fat in the pan.  Pour out the rest.  If you didn’t use any meat, then add 3 tablespoons olive oil and heat it up.  Cook the onions with a pinch of salt over medium heat for about 10 minutes, until they start to get brown.  Turn the heat to low, add the garlic and cook for another few minutes until it gets lightly golden.  At this point, stir in the sausage or meat if you’re using them.  Turn the heat back up to medium, add a teaspoon of salt and the spices and cook for a couple of minutes.  Stir in the rice.  Cook the rice for a couple of minutes so that it’s thoroughly coated and there doesn’t seem to be as much fat in the bottom of the pan.

Stir in the lentils and 2-1/2 cups of water or vegetable stock.  Bring it to a nice boil, then cover the pot and turn the heat to low.  Cook for 20 minutes.  Uncover the pot and add up to ¼ cup more water or stock if it all seems completely dry or if it’s stuck to the bottom of the pot (sometimes you also have undercooked rice grains on top, this is OK, they’ll finish cooking in a couple of minutes. If you used long-grain rice instead of Basmati, you’ll likely need some extra liquid).  Stir it up and check it – it shouldn’t be soupy.  If it is, crank up the heat for a minute and keep stirring until everything is just moist and not wet.  Serve hot, warm, or at room temperature.

Lead-ing the way to bottles past

There’s no humble way to say that you’ve had the opportunity to open an old bottle of nice Cognac, so I’m not even going to try.  I did it, and I’m glad. But there was a surprise…

I didn’t expect to see lead foil on a bottle of Cognac. But it was a bottle from the 1960s, and lead foil was used on many bottles of alcohol into the 1990s. Even wine.

The bottle belonged to my husband Cy’s uncle Hooshang.  Hooshang was a pediatrician in New York City for over 60 years.  His apartment in lower Manhattan was filled with gifts from grateful patients and their parents, as well as from colleagues.  Some of these included fine bottles of liquor.

A few weeks ago, I decided to make French Manhattans from David Lebovitz’s book Drinking French. These cocktails use brandy or cognac.  Ordinarily I’d use a reasonably good brandy.  But we had Cognac.  In fact, two bottles from Hooshang:  one was Hennessey that was clearly a more recent one.  The other was Courvoisier, probably from the 1960s from the looks of it.  I thought we’d taste it neat and then use it for spectacular cocktails.  I’m sure Mr. Lebovitz would approve.

I expected that the cork would be dried out.  Most people store liquor bottles standing up, so the cork doesn’t get moistened – sometimes for decades.  What I didn’t expect to see was lead foil covering the cork and the entire top of the bottle.  I didn’t realize it was lead until I cut through it and saw the shiny inner surface.  It was also definitely more substantial than regular bottle foil by weight.  I made sure to take it all off, then washed my hands before continuing. 

As I was picking at the foil to get it off, I remembered that lead was widely used in bottle foil for all kinds of alcohol, including wine.  When I first started doing environmental work in the early 1990s, I contacted a winery in California that had reported a big increase (by weight) in transfer of lead for offsite disposal to EPA in 1988.  The manager told me that a decision had been made to stop using lead in anticipation that it would be banned for use in bottle foil.  Plus, under California’s labeling laws, they’d have had to disclose the lead used in packaging.  No one wanted to keep it lying around, and management didn’t want to sell it.

So why lead in bottle foil?  For the same reason as many of its other uses.  It’s malleable and cheap.  Bottle foil was one of the last uses of lead to be legislated out of existence.  California banned it in 1991, and FDA announced it would be issuing a ban that same year, finalizing the end of lead foil in 1996.  By that time, no U.S. wine producer was using it. 

According to the research supporting the ban, the problem wasn’t that lead would leach into the wine in the bottle from the foil.  Rather, cutting the top of the foil and leaving the rest on the bottle created a fresh edge that could leach lead into the wine as it was poured, especially if the wine is more acidic.  And since a little liquid stays in the cut end of the foil after pouring, that could increase potential exposure even more with subsequent pours.

It wasn’t just the U.S. that banned lead foil on wine bottles.  According to one of my French wine producers, May 1, 1992 was the date of France’s ban.  So if you have some fine old French wine in your cellar, be careful.  I’d take the foil completely off the bottle, but wipe the foil first with a damp paper towel before removing it.  This cleans off any surface dust that could contain lead. Wipe down the neck and top of the bottle again with a different damp paper towel and wash your hands before you remove the cork.  If you want to cut the foil to remove the cork but leave the rest of the foil on the bottle, do the same procedure except leave the bottom part of the foil on, well below the lip of the bottle.  Please wash your hands again before you start pouring, just to be sure.

It’s hard to imagine these days that lead was deliberately used in all kinds of consumer products.  Even aside from paint and gasoline.  And as we’ve all learned from the water issues in Flint, Michigan, there are countless hidden uses of lead, too.  (Lead water lines are surprisingly easy to find in older homes, even today.  My 1920-built house has one and our water company has promised to replace it for nearly 20 years now…)  Lead is a potent neurotoxin, especially in children.  There is a clear link between lead exposure and developmental effects in children.  Toxicologists and medical experts state clearly that there is no safe level for lead exposure.  Even for adults.  Long term adult lead exposure can eventually lead to hypertension, joint and kidney damage, miscarriages, and other symptoms.

Bottle capsules or foils are meant to protect the cork from damage. At least that was the reason they were first used (stopping insects and rodents), and they could slow or prevent oxygen transfer. They’re also another branding space for wineries if they choose to use it.  Obviously, lead isn’t necessary for capsules.  Metal bottle foils are now made from tin, although most are made from plastic these days.  There are some tin-plastic hybrids out there, too.  One of my new Italian producers uses a wax-like plastic seal on top of the wine bottles, which I used to see more often.  And sometimes if you buy wine directly from a winery you’ll get bottles with no foil on them at all.  I like the look of bottles without capsules, although different foil colors can make bottles easier to identify in the cellar.

If you have old bottles with lead foil, you shouldn’t just toss the lead in your recycle bin.  Look for your local hazardous waste disposal, even for just one or two of them.  It’s important that we keep as much lead out of the environment as we can, since it doesn’t just go away.  Be sure to relish every bit inside those bottles, though.  Cy and I toast Hooshang every time we drink the Courvoisier and the other alcohol he gave us.  We normally use good, but not the very best stuff for most cocktails, so we feel like we’ve been living large.  I hope you have a special person or place associated with your old bottles, too.

——————- 

Amoo Hooshang wasn’t a big spirits drinker, and he always encouraged Cy and me to take some bottles home with us when we visited.  Early last July, we finally did, although unfortunately without him there to offer them again.  Hooshang died from Covid in April, during the first peak of deaths in the U.S.  You can read more about Hooshang and his remarkable life in the lovely obituary Cy wrote for him here.  Sorting through his apartment gave us a little bit of the goodbye we didn’t get with him in the hospital.  Sadly, this is the same situation for many people losing their family members and friends.  Cy and I want to send our sympathy to all those who lost loved ones to Covid, especially if those who died had to be isolated.  Let’s hope we can all see one another again in person soon.

——————

I promised producer profiles, and you’ll have them – I just need some more information before I post them.  In the meantime, though, I have a recipe for you.  It’s based on a dish in Yotam Ottolenghi’s book Simple, and it actually is pretty easy to make.  Lamb Arayes are a mixture of spiced ground lamb that is put on one half of a pita (or in this case, a flour or corn tortilla) with a little cheese, then folded over, and fried until the tortilla is crisp and the filling is cooked.  They’d be called quesadillas if they weren’t filled with lamb seasoned with tahini and pomegranate molasses (although they could be called Ottolenghi Quesadillas, since he uses those two ingredients often.  You can find his recipe here).

I realized you could use this method to make nearly any meat mixture into an araye, quesadilla, or filled flatbread of your choice.  The key is to use a meat that’s around 85% lean, and have enough liquid inside to make it nice and sticky/smushy.  Ordinarily when you’re making meatloaf or meatballs, you’re told not to mix them too much because the meat gets sticky and the final dish can be tough.  But that’s what you want here, because there’s no binder like the typical milk and bread combo to hold the meat mixture together.  The filling doesn’t toughen up in the short cooking time. 

Finished arayes — they’re just a different name for quesadillas, and they’re eaten throughout the Middle East. I first tried them filled with lamb from a recipe by Yotam Ottolenghi. But I realized they’re an easy formula to riff on. So I made a recipe for filling that tastes like Cincinnati Chili.

So, I decided to create a recipe that’s something like Cincinnati Chili, a dish I love.  It uses grated onion and crushed or grated tomatoes, like Ottolenghi’s recipe, but also has cinnamon and unsweetened cocoa powder in it along with garlic, chili powder, cinnamon, cumin, etc.  I added some Greek-style yogurt and an egg white to help it bind together, plus the yogurt adds a nice tang.  (You may not need the egg white, but it won’t hurt to use it.) Ordinarily you’d simmer Cincinnati Chili for hours.  But this version doesn’t need hours of cooking to give you a reminder of the flavor.  I recommend letting the meat mixture sit in the fridge for an hour before cooking so everything mellows out.  In fact, you can mix it all up the night before you plan to cook them. 

Serve it with one of our new red wines – my choice would be Cantine Borga Refosco ($15).  It’s got enough body to stand up to the spices, but it’s smooth and has nice dark fruit flavors.  Refosco is a grape that’s native to the Veneto in northeastern Italy.  It’s not one you see here often, but I’m hoping that’ll change now that I stock it. 😉

Cheers!

Tom

Cincinnati Chili Arayes

(based on Yotam Ottolenghi’s recipe for Lamb Arayes in his cookbook Simple)

Serves four as a main dish, eight as a starter

Filling

1 pound 85 – 90% lean ground beef

½ of a small onion, about 3 ounces

2 cloves garlic, peeled

½ cup crushed or grated tomatoes (canned is fine, you can also use leftover tomato sauce)

1 teaspoon tomato paste

1-1/2 tablespoons chili powder

½ teaspoon ground cumin

A pinch of ground cloves

¼ teaspoon cayenne or red pepper flakes

½ teaspoon ground cinnamon

1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa powder

1 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup Greek-style plain yogurt

1 egg white (may not be needed)

1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce

Blitz the onion and garlic in a mini-food processor until finely ground, adding some of the tomato if necessary.  (Alternatively, you can grate the onion on a box grater and microplane the garlic.)  Put the mixture in a large bowl with everything else except the ground beef and the egg white and mix well.  Break the meat into small pieces and add them to the bowl.  Using your hands, mix everything well, being sure to squish the meat in your fingers to break it all up and combine it with the other ingredients.  It should be nice and sticky and hold together.  If it doesn’t, mix in the egg white.  Cover the bowl and refrigerate for an hour.

Assembly and cooking

8 flour tortillas, 8-10 inches in diameter

4 ounces grated sharp or extra-sharp Cheddar cheese

Olive oil or vegetable oil for the pan

Coarse salt

If the tortillas are cold, warm them up in the microwave for about 30 seconds so they’re pliable.  Divide the filling into 8 portions.  Spread one portion of the filling over half of one of the tortillas, leaving a small border around the edge.  Sprinkle the meat with one-eighth of the cheese, then fold the unfilled half of the tortilla over the filling.  Press down a little to make sure the top half sticks and the filling is spread evenly.  Fill the rest of the tortillas and set aside.

Heat 1 tablespoon of oil in a 10- to 12-inch nonstick skillet over medium-low heat.  When the oil is hot, add two of the folded tortillas and fry gently for 3-4 minutes.  The bottom should be nice and brown, but not burnt, so regulate the heat accordingly.  Turn over and cook another 2-3 minutes until brown.  The filling should be cooked through.  Transfer to a baking sheet and sprinkle with a little coarse salt.  Wipe out the skillet with a paper towel and continue to cook the remaining arayes.

Serve warm or at room temperature.

New wines relieve the headaches of getting them here

After waiting months and months, a shipment for First Vine finally arrived here in DC about two weeks ago.  We have wines from two new producers in Italy and an old favorite from France. 

Cy took this photo of me as we began unpacking the pallets from a shipment that arrived a couple of weeks ago. Lots of delays in getting it here to DC, but we’re happy to have the wines!

So, hooray!  I really like the new selections and have undimmed appreciation for the ones I’ve been buying now for more than a decade.  And the fun parts of the process were all still there – trying new wines and getting to know new producers (plus chatting with the ones I’m continuing to buy from). Even though meetings were online instead of in person, and transatlantic air shipments of samples didn’t always work out as planned.  Still, it all resulted in that familiar thrill when the pallets show up at the warehouse, just waiting to be unwrapped and organized in First Vine’s storage area.

But in truth, these satisfactions were nearly outweighed by the delays and frustrations caused by lousy government policy and Covid in the past year.  I hate dwelling on them too much because they’ve consumed far too many waking and sleepless hours.  However, those hours gave me time to think of a way to describe them, so you may as well have it.

First, the policy. Wine got tangled in a pissing contest trade fight involving aircraft manufacturers Boeing and Airbus over which companies get more unfair government subsidies.  The eventual answer, according to the World Trade Organization (WTO), was that they both do.  You’d think that’d be the end of it.  But the U.S. got to WTO first and was allowed to apply retaliatory tariffs.  These included a 25 percent levy on French, Spanish, British, and German wines, implemented in October 2019.  The tariffs initially applied to only a segment of these products, which was difficult enough.  However, that changed after WTO granted the EU a similar retaliatory option. This of course resulted in a U.S. backlash.  As of January 12, 2021 all wines produced by these countries now cost U.S. importers 25 percent more.   

[Feel free to skip this paragraph while I get into the weeds a little…] 

U.S. wine importers and retailers have tried to keep prices constant over the past five years or so, even though costs have increased.  But the broader tariffs will likely make that unsustainable.  A 25 percent increase is too big to absorb without raising prices to consumers.  How suppliers will deal with it will be a major issue for wine drinkers.  As far as when or if the tariffs will be rescinded, who knows?  I imagine that tariff issues like steel and aluminum, plus more baseline agricultural products, will take center stage.  Wine will probably have to wait until more of those issues are resolved. 

[Thanks for reading this – now back to my regular ranting.]

And then there’s Covid.  What used to be weekly or twice-weekly transatlantic ship crossings bringing European wine to the U.S. has dwindled to every two, three, or four weeks (if we’re lucky, and depending on the country of origin).  Big wine importers always get preference in scheduling because a full container of either nine or 18 pallets can go on nearly any ship.  But a small importer relies on shippers to consolidate wines from many importers into container-sized loads.  Thanks to various regulatory quirks (and let’s face it, partly for the shippers’ convenience), what they call LCL shipments (short for Less than Container Load) get pushed off onto future crossings.  That used to mean perhaps a week or two later, but not anymore.  And once the wine arrives in the U.S., what was already a trucking shortage here becomes even worse because more and more people order nearly everything for home delivery these days, further straining the trucking system.

In my case, I avoided a chunk of tariffs by careful ordering.  Italian wines are exempt from the U.S. tariff barrage**, although the process of ordering them took longer than expected.  And the French wines in this shipment were mostly exempt from tariffs.  But I definitely got caught in all the Covid shipping issues, including stateside trucking.  On top of that, my two French pallets ended up being taken to Italy because of some issue on a particular ship in France.  That meant that there were now five pallets instead of three they expected to fit into a container leaving Italy, so that delayed the shipping yet again.

So yes, lots of angst.  But they’re here!  And they’re great!  As a friend told me, I couldn’t have picked better stories to tell with these wines, so I’m looking forward to writing about them in the next few posts.  Here’s a preview:

1. Grapes named for animals and their migratory patterns
2. Labels that were questioned because they looked like we were marketing wine to children
3. A family history dating back to the 16^th century involving sheep, wine, war, and secret passageways

Stay tuned!

**A friend who works for the Bank of Italy explained that Italian companies provided far more parts and equipment to Boeing than to Airbus, so to the extent that those Italian companies were subsidized by the government, Boeing was the much greater beneficiary.  This was likely the reason that Italian wines weren’t subject to tariffs.

———————–

Since I haven’t posted in a while I thought I’d go all out and do a recipe too.  The first bottle I opened after letting the shipment rest was Prosecco Brut Millesimato 2019 from Cantine Borga in the Veneto ($18).  I’ll describe it fully in another post, but I will say that Prosecco normally isn’t my thing.  This one proved me wrong.

It was a pleasure to begin working with Antonio Borga of Cantine Borga in the Veneto. Clearly he and his family have a sense of humor — the Prosecco is so good that resistance is futile!

I served it with a dish that made an appearance in one of Nigella Lawson’s daily e-mails.  Nigella can take any food and write about it in a way that makes it sound like something you must try right now.  But this one was even more intriguing.  I’m calling it Shrimp with Cinnamon and Noodles.  That’s right – actual small pieces of cinnamon stick in there.  Delicious and unusual.  And perfect with the Prosecco.  Here’s a link to Nigella’s version, which she says she ordered every night on a trip to Thailand so she could watch it being made and recreate it at home.

I’ve changed a few details and sauce ingredients.  Also, I like one-pot meals so I added some vegetables.  Asparagus works particularly well (and don’t worry, it’s just a myth that it doesn’t pair with wine, at least in this dish), but you can add peas (thawed frozen peas are fine) or green beans instead if you can’t find any.  Finally, there’s some grated carrot for color and a little more sweetness.

Cheers!

Tom

Shrimp with Cinnamon and Noodles

Serves 2-4, depending on the appetites and what else you’re eating

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 stalk celery, cut into one-inch lengths crosswise, then julienned lengthwise

A 2-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and cut into small matchsticks

4 garlic cloves, finely minced

1 large or 2 small cinnamon sticks, broken or chopped into very small shards

2 star anise (optional)

7-8 tablespoons soy sauce (preferably low-sodium)

2 tablespoons dark brown sugar

2 tablespoons oyster sauce (you can swap out a mixture of hoisin sauce and a little bit of fish sauce)

½ teaspoon ground white pepper (or black pepper)

2 teaspoons chicken or vegetable stock concentrate (such as Better than Bouillon)

3/4 cup plus 2 or 3 tablespoons water (divided use)

1 pound large raw shrimp, peeled and deveined

12 asparagus spears, trimmed and cut into 1-inch lengths, or about 1/3 pound green beans, trimmed, cut in half lengthwise, then crosswise into 1-inch lengths, or ½ cup peas (thawed if frozen)

½ pound rice stick noodles, or ½ pound spaghetti, cooked, drained, and rinsed in cold water

1 large carrot, peeled and grated

Put the cinnamon stick pieces and 2 tablespoons of the water in a small microwave-safe bowl.  The pieces of cinnamon should be nearly covered, so add another tablespoon of water if you need to.  Microwave for 15-30 seconds until the water is hot, depending on the power of your microwave.  Cover the bowl with a plate and let the pieces soak for about 10 minutes to soften a bit, then drain the cinnamon pieces, reserving the water (if there’s any left).

Heat the oil in a large non-stick skillet until just about smoking.  Add the celery, ginger, garlic, cinnamon pieces, and star anise and stir fry for a minute.  Add 7 tablespoons of the soy sauce and simmer for 30 seconds, then add the oyster sauce, white pepper, brown sugar, the water (including the cinnamon soaking water, if you have any), and the stock concentrate.  Bring to a boil.

Add the shrimp and the vegetables (except the carrot), stirring everything together and submerging as much as you can.  Make sure it’s boiling, then lower the heat a bit and put the lid on for a few minutes.  Check to see that the shrimp are cooked and the vegetables are just about tender, and keep cooking until they are.

Stir in the noodles or spaghetti and the grated carrot.  Cook, uncovered on high heat, tossing everything together for a minute or two.  The noodles will absorb most of the liquid, leaving you with enough sauce to glaze everything.  Taste a noodle and see if you want to add another tablespoon of soy sauce.  Remove the star anise pods if you see them sticking out.  Serve immediately.

Note:  I like eating the cinnamon pieces, which is why I modified Nigella Lawson’s original recipe to soften them up in hot water ahead of time.  You don’t have to, although the pieces won’t soften up much during the cooking, even though they flavor the dish. 

Reopening Installment #2: Déjà Vu-19

Obviously, I’m not the only enviro thinking that Covid-19 and global warming are the basis for “A Tale of Two Crises.”  Many groups have rightly pointed out the decrease in global warming emissions during the stay-at-home phase of the pandemic should be a model for the future.  But as you might expect, I’m looking at them through a wine industry lens.

We’re in the midst of a crisis.  The majority of the scientific community agrees it’s a crisis and that there are important yet relatively simple things we can do to stop it from getting much worse.  It affects public health and the economy.  Most people agree that the crisis is real.  But there’s a small vocal minority who don’t believe what they’ve been told.  They refuse to take any action, no matter how small, to help protect their fellow citizens.  And they’re encouraged by some in government, who have prioritized the economy over health.  Where there has been robust government response, it has come from the state and local level.

You’ve probably guessed I’m talking about Covid-19.  But the old enviro in me also realized back in April that it’s playing out the same way as another crisis that’s been happening for a long time:  Global warming.

I started working on global warming issues in 1997, and some of my colleagues had already been at it for around two decades back then.  The U.S. dismissed several opportunities to make a dent in global warming emissions, and increasing urgency hasn’t made federal action any more likely.  Instead, there’s continued talk of how doing something about the problem will tank the economy, and how it’s all China’s fault anyway.  It has been up to governors and mayors to make emissions reduction plans and switch to renewable energy.  Same song, different crisis.

This is a blog about wine, of course.  (Don’t worry, I’m getting to it!)  Both crises have affected the wine industry, in the U.S. and around the world.  Back in the late 1990s, I reviewed a study of how global warming had already affected the California wine industry, driving production northward into cooler areas to maintain quality.  And back in 2018, I wrote about how the effects have accelerated, making it more difficult for certain wine-producing regions to maintain appellation traditions and quality.

The wine industry has responded partly through adaptation (trying their best to make their traditional wines by modifying production methods), but also by reducing carbon emissions in farming and fermentation.  Wineries have also tried to influence reductions up and down the supply chain, from bottle manufacturing to transportation.

Covid-19 has produced different challenges.  It won’t necessarily stop winemakers from making wine per se.  But they’ll have a lot more difficulty getting workers to help harvest the grapes than in past years because of travel restrictions.  And there’s the selling part.  Restaurant sales are way down, and winery tasting rooms are subject to the same kinds of rules as other businesses deemed non-essential.  The wine industry also depends on travel and tourism, which are suffering greatly as well.

Winemaking hasn’t been on the radar for national policies addressing global warming, and I can’t imagine it will be a driver for new economic relief now, either.  But if I had my wish list, here’s what I would ask for from the federal government as part of a Covid-19 crisis response plan for businesses:

In the short term, the tariffs already in place on some European wines should be repealed, and new ones should be rejected.  This will keep wine prices down and keep people in the wine industry employed.  (Read about them here.)

Longer term assistance would make wine and other alcohol easier to buy online, both from wineries and retailers.  Online sales are growing rapidly as people stay home, and many wine fans will keep buying this way after the pandemic is over.  But buying wine online across state lines is difficult because of individual regulations in each state.

As I’ve mentioned before, the state-by-state regulation built into the repeal of Prohibition was deemed necessary to get state buy-in back in the early 1930s.  Despite legal action that has since made it possible for wine to be shipped across state lines, individual states can gum up the works by making it time consuming and expensive to get state shipping permits.  And then there’s the process of collecting and remitting state income taxes, excise taxes, and monthly state reports that are often more complex and take longer to complete than federal tax forms.  So while many states “allow” shipping, it might not be worth it to small wineries that can’t afford the permits or hire someone to deal with all the paperwork.

There’s definitely a role for the federal government, though.  I suggest providing incentives to states to allow generous, reasonably priced permits for shipment of wine, beer, and spirits from both producers and retailers outside their borders.  Government should further facilitate the process by developing a common application for state permits, as well as forms/systems for reporting and paying state sales taxes.  Wineries, breweries, distilleries, importers, and even some distributors can’t operate without federal permission, and granting (or extending) that permission could be contingent on how each state regulates sales.  States that comply and make things easier could also receive federal aid to further help their own alcoholic beverage industries, which often greatly contribute to the states’ economies.  And some money for state infrastructure projects could be tied to states’ policies on alcohol sales.

So yeah, that’s a pie — or Grand Cru? — in the sky dream.  And you’ve probably noticed that it’s self-serving for an importer and online retailer of non-U.S. wines.  But it’s a wish list, as I said, and large-scale to meet the scope of the impacts of Covid-19 on the wine industry.  Who would have imagined even a year ago we’d be in the situation we’re in now, let alone back in the 1930s when state alcohol policies were codified?  Short of replacing the constitution’s 21^st amendment that repealed prohibition with one that forbids states from interfering with interstate commerce regarding alcohol, these are the kinds of actions that could twist the arms of state governments and get a better alcohol regulatory system overall.

And then we’ll still need better global warming policies.

Reopening installment #1: A little bragging is in order

This is my letter to the editor of the Washington Post about their unquestioning use of market research data on alcohol sales. The reporter used data from A.C. Nielsen to imply that we’re all drinking way too much. Nielsen is now adding caveats on the limits of their data to press releases and summaries of their reports. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that I helped push them in that direction.

For years now I’ve been trying to explain that we just don’t have good data on sales of wine and other alcohol.  And I’ve been complaining that the companies that compile, analyze, and disseminate these data issue grand proclamations that don’t acknowledge that they don’t cover the entire market.  This hasn’t stopped the companies from leaping to less-than-well-founded conclusions, particularly about the impact of the coronavirus crisis on alcohol sales.

Well, look what I just saw in a piece about a report issued by A.C. Nielsen, the market research company, with assistance from Wines Vines Analytics and Sovos Ship Compliant, a firm that assists wineries with online sales and shipments:

“We continue to remind our readers that we are only measuring some specific off premise** channels, and that the impact of the health crisis on sales is uneven across companies in the alcohol industry.” 

[**Off premise means alcohol purchased in stores or online for consumption at home or in places other than where it was purchased.  It’s the opposite of on premise, which refers to bars and restaurants.]

I’m going to toot my own horn here and say that I had something to do with this statement.  I won’t flatter myself and imagine that Nielsen managers read my blog posts.  But I wrote something they likely did read – a letter to the editor of the Washington Post, taking the newspaper to task for using Nielsen’s incomplete data to imply that we’re all drinking ourselves into a physical and mental health crisis.  It was published on May 15, 2020, and probably made the company’s daily media clips.

Good for Nielsen.  Although I have to point out that when they say that they “continue” to remind readers of some of their data limitations, they weren’t doing it as of May 6, 2020, when I put up my last post on the subject.  Let’s hope they’ll “continue” to do it in the future.

I’m also encouraged by another sentence later in the report that I haven’t seen from Nielsen before.  Discussing the percentage increase in sales of spirits, Nielsen notes that sales of premium spirits were up substantially, particularly tequila.  It makes sense to me, since if I’m going to go to the trouble of making margaritas at home, I can use the good stuff and it’ll still cost less than a pitcher of so-so margaritas out.  Unlike in past reports, Nielsen acknowledges this may be happening, saying, “Remember again that all those consumers who might have ordered a cocktail in a restaurant or bar are able to save a significant amount of money when they buy a bottle of the same liquor or drink components, at a store or online, and have that drink at home.”

We still don’t know what’s actually happening with alcohol sales.  But at least there’s a little less authority and more caveats in reporting the numbers these companies collect.  That at least helps us decide just how much weight we should give the data.

Social Distancing Installment #14: Stay six feet from the price at tastings

I couldn’t find one of these posters that showed people holding wine glasses. I’ll need to commission one for my next wine tasting! (Image from Freepik.)

After my virtual wine show experience back in April, I started talking with Italian producers about getting samples to taste.  Eighteen bottles of wine arrived all in one week.  Cy and I were able to taste some of them.  But I needed opinions for the others, particularly when there were two producers from the same region, each making the same varietal wines.

The pandemic presented the challenge of finding an outdoor space in my densely-populated urban neighborhood that was large enough to keep people at least six feet apart, plus with space to pour 10 wines and put out multiple sets of non-communal snacks.  Luckily, one of our neighbors has a deck that could fit eight to 10 people and still keep them adequately spaced.  It was a fun and interesting experience.  And great to see everyone in 3-D, as one of the tasters commented.

The tasting results were clustered at both ends of the praise spectrum and I couldn’t always get a good idea of what the majority of people liked.  Or, in the case of choosing between two similar wines, which ones they preferred.  Especially when the wines were unfamiliar to most of the people tasting.

A few of them were no-brainers.  I served a Prosecco that was really tasty to start.  Everyone liked it, and I wish that half of the contents of the bottle hadn’t gushed out like Old Faithful when I opened it (the hazards of air travel, even after two-plus weeks of rest).  Then there was a Pinot Grigio that no one particularly liked, and a Pecorino that practically everyone did.  But the rest?  Kind of a toss-up.  It might have helped to have more people tasting, which I couldn’t do given the space available.

On the one hand, the split makes things easier, since it’ll probably come down to me to decide.  But it also means that roughly half of the people who tasted might not be happy with my selections.  We’ll have to see.

One issue that came up was price.  Some of the tasters asked what the prices on the wines would be.  (I was super-pleased no one asked about the “price point,” by the way!)  I always give prices for wines I already carry.  But I prefer not to talk specific prices for samples.  I think it genuinely impacts people’s opinions.  In general, my wine selections run $13 – $17, so my current customers already have a guide.  Still, a particular wine might not be their favorite at the tasting, but it suddenly tastes better if you tell them the price is $11 or $12 instead of $15 or $16.  And unfortunately, a tasting isn’t a pre-order, so there’s no guarantee that customers will buy that wine even at a lower price once it’s for sale.

I understand value is an issue, and if it makes a difference between considering what I’d call an everyday selection versus one that’s a little nicer, I can be satisfied buying the everyday wine.  Like for the toss-up choices at this tasting, I could probably go for the less expensive ones.  But I also like to get people’s unvarnished opinions on the wines.  If they really like one of them, I hope they’ll find a way to buy some of it, even if it’s a few dollars more a bottle than something they’d drink every day.  (Obviously, I don’t have all the answers here.  Focus-group gurus might help create a way to help tease out taste and value preferences better, but in this case the small sample size probably wouldn’t yield a useful answer anyway.)

I’d definitely like to hear people’s opinions on this — from wine professionals, non-professional wine drinkers, and people who know marketing.  Do you want to hear about the price when you taste wine, or do you prefer to taste it without knowing the price?  And does that opinion still hold if it’s a wine that’s already available versus something the importer is trying to decide on bringing over?  Are people afraid to say they like wines that are less expensive, and conversely, do they want to seem more sophisticated by claiming to enjoy the more expensive wines more when they’re in a group?  There’s no wrong answer here, and it’ll help me with future tastings and decisions.