by Julian Schultz
julian@oxfordwineroom.com
I walked into the Castle Restaurant to attend the Chaine des Rotisseurs gourmet
dinner with Wolffer Estates prestige wines – “The Bordeaux Wines of
Massachusetts from Long Island” – and with Roman Roth, “The Oenophile Dean of
Long Island and “The Noblest Roman of them all.”
Sommelier Jim Nicas approached me…sorrowfully…a long face:
“Bad news, Julian. Big Brother Benny is here, bristling with anger; he even
cursed Garlicky Gertie, his squeeze. He’s been studying tonight’s tasting menu;
his lips are set hard – vehement hard, bigtime hard. Try to stay out of his
way.”
He continued: “Grimly, he challenged even me, growling, ‘My squeeze said this
was supposed to be a something Bordeaux wine tasting with a Rothschild guy who
would speak. All I see are unknown wines from (expletive deleted) Long Island
and some jerk by the name of Roth, not Rothschild.’
“Before I could answer to defend myself, he asked if you would be here this
afternoon, adding that his brother, Little Brother Benny, couldn’t stand you.
“Among other Little Benny’s disparaging remarks, he said that you are a pompous
fusspot, a snooty elitist who tastes by the book and who is peevish and
impatient with people who don’t taste by accepted procedure. He also said--”
“I have heard enough, Jim, thank you. Because I am supremely modest, I find the
flattery bestowed upon me by Little Brother Benny is too much, too humbling…But
I will try to avoid Big Brother Benny after you point him out to me.”
Oi vey! I saw him. Big Brother Benny is some kind of giant: all of 6-9 and
weighing well over 350 pounds. I wasn’t going to “try” to avoid him; I was
“determined” to avoid him.
It wasn’t that easy: I was over-munching away on the inspired hors d’oeuvres of
salmon/cream cheese pinwheels, pan seared scallops/chive mousse, roasted oysters
in sage butter and sipping the excellent Wolffer 2005 Rosé ($13.99) –
refreshing, dry, rated “America’s number one dry Rosé” by The Wall Street
Journal -- and Wolffer Chardonnay La Ferme ($13.99) – green apples, citrus, Gold
Medal Winner at International Wine for Oysters Competition -- that the Castle’s
Josh Suprenant had poured. Exultant, alternating tasting each wine, I was
sighting…swirling…sniffing…savoring…dry swallowing…and spitting.
Big Brother Benny had the Chardonnay in his glass, which he clutched by the bowl
and was hidden in his massive paw. Sighing with fatigue and taking his gigantic
load off his feet, he plopped onto a chair beside me and watched me with
wrinkled nose, followed by disdainful amusement.
Ostentatiously, mockingly, he sniffed hastily and drained his glass in one noisy
gulp, emitting an exaggerated gasp followed by a belch so resounding that it
caused Josh to stagger against his pouring table and precariously rattle the
wine bottles.
Other palateers nearby snickered at his ludicrous exaggerated behavior and
chuckled as he immediately cadged a refill…another and another; his voice in
falsetto, he facetiously imitated a begging Oliver Twist as he proffered his
wine glass to Josh, “Please, sir, I want some more of these crisp, dry, clean,
lush fruited wines.”
I whispered to my companion, Arline McGoldrick, that perhaps she make with the
saucy eyes and the flirty shimmies and get him out of here -- to introduce him
to some of the other guests.
She smiled archly: “He’s your problem, my friend. You try your luck. This guy
looks as though he might eat me…all of me with one thunderous chomp.
Sorry!...Anyway, I am told, he soon will be accompanied by his formidable
Garlicky Gertie – a bona fide heavyweight – who likes to display her
cleavage-a-la-mode…with broad shoulders back, her baba bazoom proudly front and
up.”
“What’s ‘a-la-mode’ cleavage?” I asked, perplexed.
“I don’t know,” she said, “but it has a nice ring to it – don’t you think?”
“I’m not thinking. I am staring: hummm, nice round, puffed mounds.”
Arline tugged my elbow: “Look! More hors d’oeuvres are being served now.”
Big Brother Benny spied charming waitresses, Lynne Folnari, Joyce Pijus, and
Lynn Cronin, gracefully parading from the kitchen: “Lemme me outta here! I’m off
to the races – to make time with the gorgeous broads and to wolf down them hors
d’oeurv-ies!”
For a man of his ponderous bulk, amazingly he moved like a sleek, swift
thoroughbred to the food.
Big Brother Benny’s bizarre behavior with the wines at the hors d’oeuvres
reception piqued my curiosity, especially his abbreviated sniffing, no swirling,
and loud gulping followed with the gasping extended exhale and noisy belch.
Nor did he move away from the waitstaff. Spreading his massive frame, he
prevented them from moving to serve other guests; patting his protruding belly,
he wolfed down the three hors d’oeuvres and seconds and thirds of each. His
ponderous presence and intimidating demeanor evoked only timid groans of
impatience from tasters standing behind him, waiting to receive the hors
d’oeuvres.
Big Brother Benny was a curiosity piece. I invited him with his squeeze when she
arrived to join us at the dinner table. No telling what his weird behavior might
disclose and provide amusement for me to write about.
We were sipping Wolffer’s Chardonnay Reserve 2002 ($24.99) – subtle, elegant,
Burgundian, toasty -- and the Chardonnay Estate 2001 ($36.99) – full-bodied,
deep, complex, slightly spicy, rated “Best Long Island Chardonnay” by The Wine
Enthusiast -- with the melting-in-mouth tender roasted quail/oyster
mushrooms/raisins and with mousse stuffing.
After I noted his hurried wolfing down gulps of two refills of each wine without
comment and staring enviously at my remaining quail, I tapped him on the
shoulder: “Hey, Big Brother Benny, what kind of cockamamie dining with wine is
that? Where’s your elegant table decorum?”
“Hey, yourself, Schultz, I’ve read your silly seven s’s on wine tasting
procedure about 10 times already: If I want to ‘sight,’ I’ll go to a topless
girlie joint; if I want to ‘swirl,’ I’ll take up ballet in a tutu; if I want to
‘sniff,’ I’ll do cocaine or try my squeeze’s Swoon and Poon perfume; if I want
to ‘sip,’ I’ll extract the honey from my squeeze’s lips; and I don’t ‘savor’
wines: I drink ‘em like any two-balled guy! I’m no la-de-da libation wimp! About
‘spitting’ and ‘speaking?’ Naa, I don’t want to imitate you and have people view
me as a prize nutcake.
“By the way,” he whispered slyly, apropos of nothing, “Do you have a Garlicky
Gertie main squeeze, like I have…for exciting diversion…like for keeping you
warm on cold winter nights…a main squeeze whose bones you can jump at night?
Mine ’ll be here soon.”
“I don’t have a main squeeze or any other squeeze for exciting diversion or like
for heating me up on cold winter nights or like for jumping her bones,” I
whispered, annoyed. “Hell, I can hardly jump out of bed in the morning.”
Big Brother Benny shrugged his shoulders: “Oh well…an ancient Greek philosopher,
who sat on his ass all day in a bathtub thinking about non-essentials, said, ‘A
man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do!’ ”
“By the way,” I said softly, “why do you refer to your squeeze as ‘Garlicky’
Gertie?”
He put his hand secretively to the side of his mouth: “She uses garlic
moderately in everything she eats – moderately, mind you – which is OK with me
and the libido. But arrh! Damn it! When she doesn’t want me to jump her bones,
she gorges on premium, unadulterated, raw garlic – bigtime! -- anesthetizes my
libido…limp for at least three goddamn weeks!”
Man understanding man deprived, I patted his shoulder and duly commiserated with
him; then continued: “But wolfing down wine,” I protested, “how can you obtain
taste satisfaction?”
Smirking, he explained: “My one, two and three gulps are only preliminary. I
derive enough flavor, texture and balance when I gulp quickly. I prevent palate
fatigue from prolonged wine saturation with all the wines I taste:
“One gulp, forgettable; two gulps, good; three gulps, excellent. I return later
to taste thoughtfully the three gulped wines for serious consideration or to the
two gulpers if there aren’t any threes remaining.”
“For possible purchase, of course,” I interjected.
“No, no,” he corrected me. “I rarely buy wines. I attend weekly freebee tastings
at different wine shops. Oh, on occasion I’ll spring for a gourmet wine dinner
at the Castle here – like this one we’re attending.
“Oh, of course, I do keep a few fine bottles at home to drink with dinner and
with my squeeze, and a few plonky cheapies – just short of lethal for sour-faced
friends I don’t like.”
“So if I should come unexpectedly to visit you, what would I get?”
“Don’t ask.” He chuckled, “Does Massachusetts have the death penalty?...Only
kidding – maybe you’d get something in between the lousy wines I serve to my
disliked friends and those wines that I sometimes countenance with the squeeze’s
uninspired meals… no way would you get any of my coveted miserly-retained
treasures.
“Incidentally, my Garlicky Gertie has a sensitive palate despite its being
perfumed with garlic.”
I answered, “Hummm, she’s an anomaly, a contradiction of sorts.”
“What’s that with her being an ‘anomaly’?!” he said threateningly. “She’s a
well-rounded broad…front, back, in all the right places. Look at her asphadastra…a
work of art, an ass of class, a thing of beauty, a joy to behold.”
Later, after Gertie arrived, she acknowledged me, reeking like an inhabitant
from Jurassic Park. I turned to Big Brother Benny: “You’re in for a cold,
frigid, icy night, my friend, and no bones jumping tonight.”
He shook his head sadly, “I know, I know. It’s a cruel world, isn’t it.”
Poured were Wolffer Reserve Merlot 2002 ($28.99) -- velvety, deep ripe fruit, b-i-g
wine, very intensive, pugnacious, needs time to become civilized -- and Estates
Merlot 2001 ($43.99) – heavy, full-bodied, submerged multi-layered rich fruit,
like a Premier Cru Bordeaux in awkward infancy, needing maturity.
They were served with rack of veal: four tender, meaty, delicious chops in
Merlot sauce with wild rice, snap peas and carrots. SEN-SAT-ION-AL! The serving
so generous that carry home containers abounded.
Salad course: Brie and glazed Manchego cheeses on toast, accented with black
currant sauce, on baby spinach greens with blueberry liqueur, was accompanied by
Cabernet Franc 2003 ($39.00) – exuberant, lush, vibrant; voted “Best red wine”
and “Best Cabernet Franc” at the New York Wine and Food Classic.” Superb now,
can only soften to voluptuous maturity.
Dessert: generous dish of refreshingly chilled nectarine and white peach soufflé
with warmed raspberry crème anglaise, accompanied by Late Harvest dessert wine
2004 ($34.99, 375 half-bottle size) – an ice wine with rich honey and apricots
tastes.
I exclaimed: “This dessert with this wine has got to be the best in recent
memory!” I was wrong. Roth treated us to a surprise: Premier Cru Merlot 2002
($129) – aromas of raspberry and mint; rich and lush with fruit, dry, vibrant,
balanced, smooth textured, layered with soft tannins and toasty oak; a wine to
die for.
Roth, with ingratiating smiles and good humor, discussed his Wolffer wines
before and after the courses, imparting exciting information. For me, his
Chardonnays are World Class: bring on your Burgundies, Loires, Graves – all of
them. Wolffer’s whites will prevail on the highest pedestal. Same with the reds,
but give them time, time and more time in the bottle to soften.
After all the wines were tasted, Big Brother Benny asked Josh for refills of his
two- and three gulped wines…He shouted, “Oh, curs-éd spite! I am hoist with my
own petar(d): My plan backfires, it has blown up in my face! The three- gulpers
are all drunk up and the twos are few.”
Turning to tasters at nearby tables and to those at our table, he snarled, “Oh
churls! Drunk all and left no friendly drops to help me after?”
“Well now,” I said with surprise, “I wouldn’t ever take you for a Shakespearean
scholar.”
“Ha! I act in the Bard’s plays when stalwart macho men are needed; and just
because I resemble big, fat, randy Jack Falstaff who lards the lean earth with
his bulk and who would roll the Doll Tearsheets and Mistress Quicklys, the bawds
at the Boar’s-Head Tavern, doesn’t mean I can’t be like him…Anyway, I’m outta
here and from you, Mr. Pomposity. Adios!”
Inquire about the Wolffer Estate Wine Club for generous discounts: e-mail info@wolffer.com.
Wine Pick: Kim Crawford New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc 2006,
$17, revel in aromas of cut grass and tropical fruits; taste grapefruit,
lemongrass, gooseberry and currants; complex, crisp, dry, lively; they have
years of staying power. They don’t make them any better…no place!
Wine Pick: Lockwood Sauvignon Blanc 2005, $10-$12, spiked with a smidgeon of
Chardonnay for muscle. Aromas of honeydew, peaches, nectarines, pears,
grapefruit transfer to the palate and are balanced with lively, crisp fruit
acids; smooth swallow and lingering farewell.
Wine Pick: Trinchero Napa Reserve Main Street Cabernet Sauvignon 2002, $45. A
notable wine replete with aromas and flavors of blackberry, licorice and toffee;
some tasters detected plums and black currants; lush, rich wine balanced with
subtle tannins and fruit acids; smooth texture, lingering aftertaste. Worth
every dollar of the price!
Email Comments to Julian at:
julian@oxfordwineroom.com