Simple Spanish Food

2010 Castaño Monastrell, Yecla

Castaño monastrell 2010 from Yecla has nothing interesting about it, but nothing offensive either. It's a basic red table wine, with none of the "off" flavors table wines sometimes have.  You could do a lot worse for $9 dollars a bottle, and you could certainly buy worse wines from Yecla.

Yecla is a denominación de orígen in the South of Spain traditionally known for cheap, rough, strong bulk wines, sometimes called <<vinos de peleo>>:   fighting wines.  The quality is improving, but when  I drink a Yecla I still expect the worst.  When a Yecla is merely inoffensive I find that  I'm pleased. With Castaño Monastrell 2010, this was the case.

If you want a red wine to serve with spicy, vinegary tapas, such as patatas bravas or banderillas, this is a good choice.  There is no nuance to be overwhelmed.

Wine from La Mancha: Artero 2010 Tempranillo

Artero 2010 Tempranillo is yet more proof of the amazing versatility of the tempranillo grape.  It also costs less than eight dollars a bottle.

Go to the Spanish wine aisle in just about any wine shop and you are bound to see all sorts of wines--Riojas, Tarragonas, Riberas del Duero, and many more--all made with tempranillo or tempranillo-blends, but all completely different from each other.  Artero 2010 Tempranillo from La Mancha is no exception.  If anything, it's an even more unusual example of tempranillo than most. 

Riojas and tempranillo-based Navarras often combine a light, strawberry acidity with oak and vanilla flavors.   Good Toros, also based on tempranillo (though there is some debate about this) are powerful, extremely dry, but balanced. Then there are the oceans of tempranillo-based table wines that taste like ordinary table wines.  I find that many of the inexpensive Yeclas and Jumillas fall into this last category.

Artero Tempranillo from La Mancha lies at another extreme of the tempranillo spectrum.

It's almost sweet.

It's not overpoweringly sweet (like the new Spanish "moscatos" I recently posted about) nor is it dessert wine, but it has hints of dried fruits and at least some of their sweetness. 

This is the sort of wine I would have with nuts and cheese as an evening tapa, almost as though it were port.  It's certainly not port, but it is close enough to be enjoyed in a similar way.  With 14% alcohol, it's nearly as strong as port too. 

When I first tried this tempranillo from La Mancha, I was shocked. Once I got over that, I found that I liked it.

 

 

 

The New York Times' Eric Asimov Reviews Wines from the Canary Islands

In  his recent article for the New York Times, "Grapes Born of Volcano and Sea," Eric Asimov reviews eighteen wines from the Canary Islands, all of which are now available in the U.S. thanks to the Spanish wine importer José Pastor.

The most exciting thing for me about the article is that the list includes several malvasías, both sweet and dry--and even a sparkler! Malvasias are the old-style wines for which the Canary Islands are famous--the "Canary" Falstaff drank in Shakespeare.

Asimov also describes some modern whites, reds and (his favorite) a rosado, all from the Canary Islands. 

Check out the article, and look for these unique wines!

 

 

The Moscato Menace

In her most recent article for the Wall Street Journal "Why You'll be Drinking Moscato This Year," Lettie Teague predicts that moscato will be "the hottest wine of 2012." She notes that "sales of Moscato grew by a mind-boggling 78% in 2011."  The wine industry experts she interviews ominously compare the trend to that of white zinfandel and even the wine-cooler craze of the 80's.

Spain grows a lot of moscatel, as moscato  is called in Spanish.  The Spanish wine industry is trying to take advantage of the grape's new popularity.  This should be a good thing because Spanish moscatel can be outstanding. 

Traditional Spanish  moscatel is usually a fortified dessert wine, enjoyed much like Pedro Ximénez or Málaga.  (Some Málagas are based on moscatel.)   There are also dry versions of moscatel. (Torres has one.) I will be posting about a traditional Spanish moscatel in the future.

Unfortunately the new Spanish "moscatos" I'm seeing here in the U.S. are not traditional Spanish moscateles at all but imitations of the popular inexpensive brands like Barefoot Cellars and Yellow Tail.  They even have the Italian/world-wine name "moscato" on the label rather than moscatel.

La Ardilla, pictured above, is from Valencia and it is made with moscatel grapes. But the label says  "moscato," and the wine has nothing to do with traditional Spanish moscatel.  It's probably  a concoction for the American market.  It's full of artificial fizz and tastes strongly of saccharine, like Alka Seltzer cold medicine.

Lulu B., another non-traditional "Spanish moscato," reminded me of an inexpensive pseudo-riesling,  complete with petroleum overtones.

If you see a wine from Spain labeled "moscato" (rather than Spanish  moscatel), be wary. A picture of a little animal on the bottle, a girl in a beret, or something similarly cute, is also a bad sign: see my post "Judging a Spanish Wine by its label."   There is a good chance that the wine in question is not a traditional Spanish moscatel at all, but rather an attempt to get a foothold in the lucrative new moscato market through imitation of its worst examples.

On the other hand, if you are lucky enough to find a Spanish moscatel at your local wine shop, it's certainly worth a try.  

La Tienda's Sherry Page has a selection of several good moscateles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Little-Known Reds: Viña Rubican, a Tempranillo from Navarra

With today's post I begin a series on little-known red wines of Spain.

Most of the Spanish red wines I've written about so far--Rioja, Toro, and (soon) Ribera del Duero--are world famous and, as a result, a lot more expensive than they used to be.  Bierzos are getting pricey too.

It always works this way: when a denomination develops a following, the demand for its wines goes up and, along with it, the cost.  Soon the wine is marketed and even judged by its origins rather than its quality.   Lots of  so-so Priorats and Riberas del Duero fill wine store shelves simply because they have "Priorat" or "Ribera del Duero" on the label.

So if you like great Spanish wine at bargain prices, one approach is to seek out not-yet-famous denominaciones de origen.  Look for little-known Spanish reds.

Navarra is a good example.

Navarra is right next door to Rioja.  Many of the new wines coming out of Navarra are based on tempranillo--the same grape used to make Rioja.  And most Navarras and Riojas are made in about the same way.

So what does this 2010 Viña Rubican tempranillo from Navarra taste like?

You guessed it, a Rioja.

Or I should say it tastes like the Riojas we used to drink in Spain fifteen years ago, with a price to match: just under $10 a bottle. There are Riojas that cost four times as much that aren't as good.

Navarra was once known for a type of inexpensive rosé called clarete,  but as in so many regions of Spain, modern wine-making techniques have changed everything. The Spanish food-, wine-, and mystery writer Manuel Vázquez Montalbán calls Navarra one of the most successful of these  transformations.

I don't believe these modernizations are entirely a good thing. Some of the traditional regional wines are being forgotten, and they shouldn't be.  As much as I like the modern white Ribeiros,  I still love the fizzy cloudy kind served in white bowls in Galician taverns (though more and more seldomly).  As much as I like this Rioja-like tempranillo from Navarra, I would like to try some of those old-fashioned claretes too.  I suspect those simple rosés would be the perfect match for the baby artichokes and fat white asparagus the region is famous for.

Why not enjoy the old and the new?

 

 

 

 

Anna de Codorníu Brut Cava: Is it as good as they say?

I've been reading about Anna de Codorníu for years now, and a few weeks back I finally had a chance to try it.  This is the cava that's supposed to have some of the complexity and body of a good French champagne because it is made with a traditional champagne grape--chardonnay--rather than the usual Catalan trio of parellada, macabeo and xarel-lo. Anna de Codorníu does contain some parellada, but most of it--70%--is chardonnay.

The wine writer Oz Clarke gives Anna a star and calls it "especially good" for a Codorníu. He goes on to say that all Codorníu sparklers are "better than the cava average."

Anna de Codorníu has a clean "biscuity" taste. Though dry, it has a faint sweet note. It has none of the cider-like flavor (often described as "baked apple") that some cavas have to excess. 

In other words, Anna de Codorníu is  much like Codorníu Brut Original.  The chardonnay does not make much difference.

Is Anna de Codorníu as good as they say? No, it's just a good basic cava, better than most, but nothing really exceptional.

That said, Anna de Codorníu costs about $15 a bottle.  As I've said before (and will say again), you could easily spend several times that price on a sparkler from France or California and wind up with an inferior wine.   

 

 

 

 

 

Ten Spanish Ways to Enjoy the Holidays #4: Cava or Champagne

 Both cava and champagne are enjoyed throughout the holidays in Spain, but they're especially popular on New Year's Eve.

Cava is Spanish sparkling wine. Almost all of it is produced in Catalonia. It's made by the champagne method (no artificial fizz), but with traditional Spanish grapes, though some types, like the Codorníu Anna pictured above, are made with traditional champagne grapes like chardonnay.

In Spain cava is usually treated as a relaxed and inexpensive alternative to champagne (though there are some high-end cavas with champagne-like complexity and a price to match.) My father-in-law  Andrés would open a bottle of good cava for most celebrations, but when a really special occasion came up he would still splurge on a bottle of champagne. 

This is not to say champagne is always better.  The wine writer Oz Clarke put it this way: "Champagne can be the best, but often isn't."  A $10 bottle of cava will often be as good as, or better than, a forty dollar bottle of champagne.

Some cavas are exceptionally good.  Not so long ago in the Wine Spectator, Matt Kramer (one of my favorite wine writers, and ordinarily no cava fan) praised Torre Oria Brut cava, made with 100% macabeo, as an extraordinary sparkler.  He was also pretty impressed with the price (just less than $8).

In addition to Freixenet Cordon Negro (the stuff in the opaque black bottles sold everywhere) you are likely to come across lots of cavas with pretty names and labels you've never seen before.  These are true cavas, but usually bottled especially for the American market.

In my experience there's rarely anything wrong with these. Again they're "good basic stuff," though one often tastes just like another.

I like  Codorníu Brut Original and especially Segura Viudas Brut Reserva better. Both are hard to beat in the basic cava category (and both cost less than $10 a bottle).

 

 

 

Ten Spanish Ways to Enjoy the Holidays #3: Hot Spiced Wine (vino caliente)

In Spain, as in much of Europe, there is a long tradition of blending wine with fruits and spices. The most famous example is sangría.  There's also the spiced wine punch Hippocras (Hipocrás, o garrapiñado).  But both sangría and hipocrás are chilled and best for the warm months. Late fall and winter, especially during the holidays, is time for a Spanish hot spiced wine, vino caliente. 

It goes very well with roasted chestnuts.

Spanish-style hot spiced wine is easy. It takes just a few minutes to make. You'll need only an inexpensive red table wine--nothing fancy. It's the perfect holiday drink for a casual get-together of family or friends.  

See my my post on hot spiced wine (vino caliente) for the recipe.

Bierzo: A Unique Spanish Red

Bierzo was  one of the favorite wines of Andrés, my father-in-law.  Bierzo is a D.O. in western León, in the north of Spain, very near his native Galicia.  The wines of Bierzo are usually made with the  mencía grape.

Although there are now some fine Bierzos out there--the wine writer Oz Clarke praises them, and Ana has them in nice restaurants when she's in Galicia--most are young reds. They are not too sophisticated, but Andrés loved them, and Ana and I do too.

What makes the wines of Bierzo exceptional is that they go so well with rich, strongly-flavored foods (grilled sardines or sausages) or slightly acidic foods (tomato sauces, all sorts of salads) that just don't pair well with most wines. 

A Bierzo is perfect for many of the hearty vegetarian and vegan dishes I write about here at Simple Spanish Food.  If you're looking for the right wine to accompany vegetarian caldo gallego or a cocido of chickpeas, spinach and mushrooms or alubias estofadas, look no further than Bierzo. It  compliments the smoky, spicy pimentón in all of these dishes.

Andrés loved Bierzo with pulpo a la gallega--Galician-style octopus, a strongly flavored dish dressed with fruity olive oil, raw minced garlic, coarse salt, and lots of pimentón.  Bierzo also goes well with homey dishes like salt cod in tomato sauce. If I were grilling pork ribs and sausage, I would not hesitate to serve them with a Bierzo.

What makes a Bierzo perfect with food normally so difficult to pair with wine is its "brightness"--a slight acidity--and, oftentimes, an unsual body, which can be thick yet light, as though it wants to bubble.  (Some reds in neighboring Galicia, such as the local red ribeiros, also often made with the mencía grape, are slightly effervescent, and good with similar foods for the same reasons.)

In short, young (and relatively inexpensive) Bierzos retain the characteristics of their simple country-wine roots,  so it's not surprising that they go so well with simple, country Spanish food.   These same qualities make most Bierzos unsuitable for drinking on their own: the wines of Bierzo are made for food. If you want a glass of something to sip while watching a movie, don't choose a Bierzo.

Are these young Bierzos delicate and nuanced? No. They are not meant to be. At the same time I find them much more exciting than the Yeclas and Jumillas produced farther south--wines I find much more often in wine shops here in the U.S.  Though growing in popularity, Bierzos are still not all that common. If you see one, it's usually well worth a try.

Bierzo also produces some nice, light,  minerally whites--even more difficult to find. These will be the subject of a future post.

 

Chufas (Tigernuts) & Horchata de Chufa

Whenever we're in Spain, we try our best to have horchata de chufa at least once.  This summery drink is often translated into English as "tigernut milk." It would be more accurate to call it a "tigernut milkshake."  A proper horchata de chufa is slightly thick, and always served very cold.  It's a drink for hot weather.  The taste has been compared to almonds and hazelnuts. The truth is there is nothing quite like horchata de chufa.

Horchata de chufa is a specialty of Valencia, but it can be enjoyed all over Spain.  Before Coca-Cola and other mass-produced sodas became popular, horchata de chufa, along with lemonade and orangeade, where the soft drinks for hot weather.

La Tienda  sells chufa nuts if you'd like to try to make your own horchata.  They also have a good recipe for horchata de chufa.

To be honest, horchata de chufa is a bit of trouble to make at home. You have to soak the chufa nuts overnight, then grind them (a food processor works well), then soak them again, and strain and squeeze out the milk. You stir in sugar and sometimes cinnamon. Then the chufa milk must be chilled and stirred, to keep it from freezing, like ice cream. For this reason, bars in Spain with really good horchata de chufa have machines that stir the horchata constantly but keep it freezing cold--just like an ice cream machine .  I find that without the machine--or laborious stirring over salted ice--horchata de chufa just isn't what it should be.

The on-line Spanish food store  La Tienda  sells a good brand of bottled horchata de chufa. Esperanza, my mother-in-law, tells me that these bottled horchatas can be quite good, but she also says  that there is nothing like a freshly made horchata de chufa. I usually just wait until we are in Madrid or, better yet, Valencia and enjoy as many horchatas as I can.

There is a third option (and one not often mentioned):   you can simply munch chufa nuts as an informal tapa. 

Go into just about any shop selling dried fruits and nuts in Spain and you will see chufa nuts alongside almonds, hazelnuts, dates, and walnuts. Chufas are enjoyed in a similar way--just something to munch on, either for the merienda (late afternoon snack) or as an appetizer before the comida.

To enjoy chufa nuts as a snack, you only need to soak them 24 hours. Change the water a couple of times, drain them, pat them dry, and they are ready to eat.

Here's a pic of dried chufa nuts (before soaking):

 

And here's a pic after they've been soaked 24 hours:

The taste of a chufa nut is similar to a raw nut, but its texture is closer to that of a crisp raw carrot (and requires a similar amount of chewing).  Sometimes I will toast reconstituted chufa nuts in a little olive oil and salt. This takes the edge off the raw-nut flavor, but the texture remains much the same.