Wine collectors, stop me if you’ve heard this one before: you’ve got a cellar full of lovely, sturdy red wines which you never seem to find time to drink, simply because you’re not able to eat red meat every single night and continue functioning as a healthy, ambulatory human being.
Because one must eat fish and vegetables to stay alive, it’s typically the light whites—most often Riesling, Chenin and Chablis—which burn through my wine cellar quicker than acid alien blood through the hull of the Alien spacecraft.
I’m forever searching for food pairings; but more than anything else, I’m on the hunt for pairings which allow me to drink my more sturdy Pinot Noir, my Nebbiolo, Sangiovese, Beaujolais crus, and the few Bordeaux reds I do purchase, alongside things that are healthier than sausages or steak.
The “Holy Grail” link is where I shall chronicle said pairings/recipes, for both white and red wines.
Shrimp and sangiovese sounds bonkers, right? Watch this.
Traditional Tuscan fare has been dubbed cucina povera, and it’s indeed rather impoverished and simple with staples including beans, breads and some roasted meats. We all can imagine pairing sangiovese to red meats like steak or lamb shoulder chops, and that’s great. But you don’t always have a place to park that in your innards.
Given the ridiculous amount of garlic and sage in this recipe, the shrimp plays second fiddle. Sure, you do taste a briny element of the shrimp, and it’s great, but the rest of the elements envelope it such that it pairs perfectly with sangiovese.
And let’s hear it for cucina povera, because this is a pretty inexpensive meal if you source the shrimp cheaply. Plus if you decide you love it, you can tweak the amounts up and make a trough to last for days.
It’s not a silly question. It’s very important. One simply never sees a 100/100 or a 20/20 point Chablis. Why?
And why ask this of Chablis, rather than some other heralded dry white wine—when we all know that the wines given 100 points are ageworthy, massive reds from Bordeaux, California, or Piedmont; dusty, vintage Champagnes; or, if made of entirely white varietals, dessert wines1? (It would seem old, brawny and sweet are generally the orgasmic fancy of the 100 pointers).
And even for those critics who do not distribute 100 point scores like so many cheap after-dinner mints—the “serious” Old World critics, who seem to look down their aristocratic bifocals at us: Jancis Robinson, Hugh Johnson, Clive Coates, or even the Yankee outsider exception in the crowd, Allen Meadows—the greatest laurel Chablis can attain is a rare 98 points (Raveneau’s ‘98 Les Clos). Granted, Meadows is uniquely conservative relative to American critics: he has only attributed a 100 point score to the ‘45 DRC Romanée Conti2. For an idea how liberally someone like former Wine Spectator critic and cringeworthy barnstorming douchebag James Suckling applies a 100 point descriptor, see here3 :
But among Old or New World critics, only once did Chablis get a gold star. In November 20044, only weeks after Bettane and Dessauve split from La Revue du Vin de France5 in reaction to the Revue’s acquisition by the teen magazine publisher Marie Claire,the magazine awarded 20/20 points to the ’79 Raveneau Les Clos.
Pyrrhic victory for Chablis, perhaps, as makeup-covered, teeny-bopping Marie Claire was at the helm?
But, save for that: that’s it.
Really? Among the entire scored back vintage history of Chablis? Just one disputed, single instance of perfection, regardless of vintage and producer? “Even Raveneau was only able to get it together once in all those years”, you’d ask?
It’s odd, to say the least. But why not instead ask why there is rarely a 100-point dry Savennières? Keller Riesling6? Or Huet Vouvray7? You could just as easily prod our readiness to recognize perfection in those undeniably mesmerizing, ageworthy racehorses.
It’s because Chablis is the most amazing dry white wine in the world. It’s a standard-bearer for terroir-driven wines that show their minerality to nearly any taster (only Riesling gives Chardonnay growing in Chablis a run for its money regarding transparency). No one can argue with Chablis when it manages to transmit its Kimmeridgian or Portlandian limestone terroir in an indelible, recognizable aroma of the sea and its minerality.
Jancis gave the 1947 Huet Vouvray Moelleux Le Haut Lieu a 20/20 in ‘03. But: that’s sweet. http://90pluswines.com/Wine/22392449947/Huet-(Domaine-Noel-(Gaston)—Vouvray-Moelleux-Le-Haut-Lieu/1947.aspx [↩]