Post by cjm on Feb 22, 2014 12:38:00 GMT
Peynaud p248 et seq
MATCHING WINE TO FOOD
To enable the wines one is serving to be shown at their best, there are certain
rules one needs to know. Knowing which wine to serve with which dish is part of the art of eating and drinking.
A mistake in this area is an error of taste, a blunder that good wine does not
deserve. Much has been written on this inexhaustible subject and I would direct the reader to the numerous lists of gastronomic combinations which can be found in cookery books and wine guides. Besides, as an oenologist I would be venturing somewhat outside my field. What interests me here is to discover, leaving aside personal preferences and habits, and God knows they are certainly varied, the rationale which underlies the established conventions.
It is easy enough to understand that during the course of a meal we
instinctively look for a certain harmony between the tastes of what we are eating and of what we are drinking. These alternating and overlapping taste impressions should neither clash with nor dominate each other; they should go well together, match and, if possible, set each other off. The harmony between them should be based on their intensity, their character and their quality. A richly flavoured drink would not go well with something neutral. Conversely, an insipid drink cuts short the pleasure of a flavoursome dish. Only in the case of too highly flavoured dishes might simple, cool drinks be preferred, drinks which would quench the thirst that such food gives rise to.
That a certain harmony of aromas and tastes is required between solid and
liquid goes without saying; it is offensive to see really good cuisine accompanied by mass produced flavoured drinks. There is also a quality relationship to be observed. A heavy, rustic style of cooking calls for a thirst-quenching drink on the same level; a fine wine in this case would be unwelcome and would not show well. A carefully prepared and delicate dish would similarly be ruined if accompanied by a coarse wine.
On analysing the basic principles underlying this harmony they can be seen to
depend on one of three conditions: analogy, association and unity of sensory
qualities. The appeal may however lie as much in complement as in contrast.
Thus certain chefs or writers take the opposite view to what is considered normal, often out of a desire to be original or else out of a horror of the conventional. When this is just a question of a pleasing fantasy in a context where something too strict or formal would be unsuitable, then I would be the first to applaud the occasional audacity. One can always try something once. But one should remember that repeated extravagances rapidly border on bad taste.
Thanks to the astonishing diversity of wine styles, one can always be sure of
finding one (even several) that will go with a given dish, with a few exceptions.
Vinegar is the best known of these, even sherry vinegar: it spoils the wine, and
salads with salad dressings should also be avoided, at least when tasting if not
from a dietary point of view. Nor are the little cube of gruyère and a fresh green walnut enough to make an exception. Also to be avoided are chocolate desserts, chocolate mousse above all, and ices, all of them.
There are both psychological and physiological reasons for allotting white
wines their particular place in our meals. In my view, the qualities which make
white wines appreciated as an accompaniment are the following: their pale
colour, their grapy aroma, their light and thirst-quenching flavour, their fresh
acidity, their sweetness if they contain sugar, and finally the fact that they are
drunk cold. The way we drink them derives from these properties. Besides, many of them, those that are the most supple and the most aromatic, can be drunk by themselves and have no need of any food to go with them.
Only those who ignore the role that colour plays in the appeal of food will be
surprised that, in general, white wines go best with dishes that have little colour: white flesh (meat, offal, fish or poultry), white or yellow sauces.
The association of colours prepares one for an association of tastes. In
addition, their fruity aromatic qualities, their lightness of constitution and their
fluidity mean that they are better suited to the finest dishes, less so to strongly
flavoured food. But white wines are known above all as the best partners for
seafood. Their flavour both masks the saltiness as well as being heightened by it. White wines are nicely described as “shellfish wines”, “crustacea wines” and “fish wines” in order of their constitution from firmest to fleshiest, youngest to oldest and driest to softest. Who has not noticed the successful combinations of Muscadet Sèvre-et-Maine or Entre-Deux-Mers with a dozen oysters, a glass of amontillado with langoustines from Sanlucar de Barrameda, Laville Haut~Brion or Batard Montrachet with sole meunière? The thirst-quenching properties of white wines are also put to good use when drunk with certain spicy specialities or cold meats, with cooked green vegetables, full-fat cheese and goat’s cheese.
In matters of taste it would be wrong to be categorical. In the previous
paragraph dry white wines could be replaced by rosé wines, or even, I admit,
though their colour annoys me, by light red wines, young wines with little tannin that is, providing they are drunk cold enough.
White wines have another dimension which one needs to know how to
exploit, and which tends to be neglected today, in France at least: they also exist in medium dry, sweet and dessert (liquoreux) versions. Many people either do not know of this range of sweet partners, or forget about them when planning a menu or reading a wine list. Moderately sweet and sweet white wines go well with all gently flavoured dishes: with chicken vol-au-vents, sweetbreads, quenelles, bechamel sauces, fine fish and poultry dishes, blue cheeses among others. Only an old dessert wine (Barsac, Banyuls, Maury) can stand up to a sweet-and-sour dish, to duck with orange or cherries. Everybody knows the combination of Sauternes and foie gras served as an entrée, a perfect marriage and the high point of a meal. Less often seen is the combination of a dessert wine with blue cheese or other strong cheeses, and yet this makes for a remarkable harmony of contrasts; the wine‘s silky sweetness is a perfect foil to the intense flavours of the cheese, and it softens their piquancy in a way that a dry white cannot.
The rich constitution of red wines and their complexity of taste make them a
more appropriate accompaniment for heavier food with stronger flavours. Their
dark colour already blends with that of red meat, gravies and wine sauces; but it is their particular tannic flavour, bitter and astringent at once, which is the determining factor. It also means that the wines can be divided into two categories which are used differently: light red wines (with a tannin index of around 30 to 35 in oenological terms) and full-bodied reds (with a tannin index of around 40 to 50). The tannin reacts with the proteins found in meats and their juices, in the saliva provoked by chewing them, in sauce bases and hard or semi-hard cheeses. Their nitrogenous content also masks the bitterness of tannin. A wine’s taste is enhanced by food. A fine red wine only really shows at its best with appropriate food. One sometimes hears that such and such a wine tasted better or less well three months ago, for example, and one tends to forget that the difference is often due to the food being eaten with it.
Very old or light red wines should be drunk with young meat such as veal or
lamb, with poultry or small game birds. Tannic wines in vigorous middle age or,
as Jacquelin says, which are very aromatic on the palate, can stand up to red meat such as beef or mutton, and the dark meat of game, wood pigeon and woodcock. Their bouquet of fruit, truffles and aromatic spices goes well with this type of food whereas it clashes with the odours of fish. Only where a dish is prepared in red wine, as in the case of fish stew, Bordeaux style lampreys or the nouvelle cuisine sea bass stew, can one serve a young and fleshy red wine (the wine used for the sauce, a purist would say). Likewise the tannin in red wine means that it should not be drunk with food that is salty or sweet as both these flavours make it appear even harder and more bitter.
During the course of a meal one’s sensory sensitivity diminishes, the senses
become progressively dulled, whence the need, if one is offering several wines, to serve them in a flavour-based progression. The rule is to start with the lightest or the youngest and finish with the most full bodied, that with the finest bouquet or the most prestigious. Therefore one would begin with the white wines and finish with the richest reds. Another useful rule is to avoid competition between wines of the same type and the same quality level. Nor should one start too high, serving the best wine too early; a fine wine is better preceded by one which will set it off by comparison. Finally, and contrary to normal practice, with each change of course I suggest waiting until the food has been served before pouring the wine. This seems important to me, for it enables guests to eat before tasting the wine, and therefore to be in a better position to judge it.
The greater the wine, the more its service demands care and ritual. A simple
wine is drunk simply, but when a great vintage is served, the guests should have been given some discreet hint of its coming. In this lies the whole art of serving wine, so that the guests will wonder why the wines seemed so wonderfully harmonious on that particular evening.
MATCHING WINE TO FOOD
To enable the wines one is serving to be shown at their best, there are certain
rules one needs to know. Knowing which wine to serve with which dish is part of the art of eating and drinking.
A mistake in this area is an error of taste, a blunder that good wine does not
deserve. Much has been written on this inexhaustible subject and I would direct the reader to the numerous lists of gastronomic combinations which can be found in cookery books and wine guides. Besides, as an oenologist I would be venturing somewhat outside my field. What interests me here is to discover, leaving aside personal preferences and habits, and God knows they are certainly varied, the rationale which underlies the established conventions.
It is easy enough to understand that during the course of a meal we
instinctively look for a certain harmony between the tastes of what we are eating and of what we are drinking. These alternating and overlapping taste impressions should neither clash with nor dominate each other; they should go well together, match and, if possible, set each other off. The harmony between them should be based on their intensity, their character and their quality. A richly flavoured drink would not go well with something neutral. Conversely, an insipid drink cuts short the pleasure of a flavoursome dish. Only in the case of too highly flavoured dishes might simple, cool drinks be preferred, drinks which would quench the thirst that such food gives rise to.
That a certain harmony of aromas and tastes is required between solid and
liquid goes without saying; it is offensive to see really good cuisine accompanied by mass produced flavoured drinks. There is also a quality relationship to be observed. A heavy, rustic style of cooking calls for a thirst-quenching drink on the same level; a fine wine in this case would be unwelcome and would not show well. A carefully prepared and delicate dish would similarly be ruined if accompanied by a coarse wine.
On analysing the basic principles underlying this harmony they can be seen to
depend on one of three conditions: analogy, association and unity of sensory
qualities. The appeal may however lie as much in complement as in contrast.
Thus certain chefs or writers take the opposite view to what is considered normal, often out of a desire to be original or else out of a horror of the conventional. When this is just a question of a pleasing fantasy in a context where something too strict or formal would be unsuitable, then I would be the first to applaud the occasional audacity. One can always try something once. But one should remember that repeated extravagances rapidly border on bad taste.
Thanks to the astonishing diversity of wine styles, one can always be sure of
finding one (even several) that will go with a given dish, with a few exceptions.
Vinegar is the best known of these, even sherry vinegar: it spoils the wine, and
salads with salad dressings should also be avoided, at least when tasting if not
from a dietary point of view. Nor are the little cube of gruyère and a fresh green walnut enough to make an exception. Also to be avoided are chocolate desserts, chocolate mousse above all, and ices, all of them.
There are both psychological and physiological reasons for allotting white
wines their particular place in our meals. In my view, the qualities which make
white wines appreciated as an accompaniment are the following: their pale
colour, their grapy aroma, their light and thirst-quenching flavour, their fresh
acidity, their sweetness if they contain sugar, and finally the fact that they are
drunk cold. The way we drink them derives from these properties. Besides, many of them, those that are the most supple and the most aromatic, can be drunk by themselves and have no need of any food to go with them.
Only those who ignore the role that colour plays in the appeal of food will be
surprised that, in general, white wines go best with dishes that have little colour: white flesh (meat, offal, fish or poultry), white or yellow sauces.
The association of colours prepares one for an association of tastes. In
addition, their fruity aromatic qualities, their lightness of constitution and their
fluidity mean that they are better suited to the finest dishes, less so to strongly
flavoured food. But white wines are known above all as the best partners for
seafood. Their flavour both masks the saltiness as well as being heightened by it. White wines are nicely described as “shellfish wines”, “crustacea wines” and “fish wines” in order of their constitution from firmest to fleshiest, youngest to oldest and driest to softest. Who has not noticed the successful combinations of Muscadet Sèvre-et-Maine or Entre-Deux-Mers with a dozen oysters, a glass of amontillado with langoustines from Sanlucar de Barrameda, Laville Haut~Brion or Batard Montrachet with sole meunière? The thirst-quenching properties of white wines are also put to good use when drunk with certain spicy specialities or cold meats, with cooked green vegetables, full-fat cheese and goat’s cheese.
In matters of taste it would be wrong to be categorical. In the previous
paragraph dry white wines could be replaced by rosé wines, or even, I admit,
though their colour annoys me, by light red wines, young wines with little tannin that is, providing they are drunk cold enough.
White wines have another dimension which one needs to know how to
exploit, and which tends to be neglected today, in France at least: they also exist in medium dry, sweet and dessert (liquoreux) versions. Many people either do not know of this range of sweet partners, or forget about them when planning a menu or reading a wine list. Moderately sweet and sweet white wines go well with all gently flavoured dishes: with chicken vol-au-vents, sweetbreads, quenelles, bechamel sauces, fine fish and poultry dishes, blue cheeses among others. Only an old dessert wine (Barsac, Banyuls, Maury) can stand up to a sweet-and-sour dish, to duck with orange or cherries. Everybody knows the combination of Sauternes and foie gras served as an entrée, a perfect marriage and the high point of a meal. Less often seen is the combination of a dessert wine with blue cheese or other strong cheeses, and yet this makes for a remarkable harmony of contrasts; the wine‘s silky sweetness is a perfect foil to the intense flavours of the cheese, and it softens their piquancy in a way that a dry white cannot.
The rich constitution of red wines and their complexity of taste make them a
more appropriate accompaniment for heavier food with stronger flavours. Their
dark colour already blends with that of red meat, gravies and wine sauces; but it is their particular tannic flavour, bitter and astringent at once, which is the determining factor. It also means that the wines can be divided into two categories which are used differently: light red wines (with a tannin index of around 30 to 35 in oenological terms) and full-bodied reds (with a tannin index of around 40 to 50). The tannin reacts with the proteins found in meats and their juices, in the saliva provoked by chewing them, in sauce bases and hard or semi-hard cheeses. Their nitrogenous content also masks the bitterness of tannin. A wine’s taste is enhanced by food. A fine red wine only really shows at its best with appropriate food. One sometimes hears that such and such a wine tasted better or less well three months ago, for example, and one tends to forget that the difference is often due to the food being eaten with it.
Very old or light red wines should be drunk with young meat such as veal or
lamb, with poultry or small game birds. Tannic wines in vigorous middle age or,
as Jacquelin says, which are very aromatic on the palate, can stand up to red meat such as beef or mutton, and the dark meat of game, wood pigeon and woodcock. Their bouquet of fruit, truffles and aromatic spices goes well with this type of food whereas it clashes with the odours of fish. Only where a dish is prepared in red wine, as in the case of fish stew, Bordeaux style lampreys or the nouvelle cuisine sea bass stew, can one serve a young and fleshy red wine (the wine used for the sauce, a purist would say). Likewise the tannin in red wine means that it should not be drunk with food that is salty or sweet as both these flavours make it appear even harder and more bitter.
During the course of a meal one’s sensory sensitivity diminishes, the senses
become progressively dulled, whence the need, if one is offering several wines, to serve them in a flavour-based progression. The rule is to start with the lightest or the youngest and finish with the most full bodied, that with the finest bouquet or the most prestigious. Therefore one would begin with the white wines and finish with the richest reds. Another useful rule is to avoid competition between wines of the same type and the same quality level. Nor should one start too high, serving the best wine too early; a fine wine is better preceded by one which will set it off by comparison. Finally, and contrary to normal practice, with each change of course I suggest waiting until the food has been served before pouring the wine. This seems important to me, for it enables guests to eat before tasting the wine, and therefore to be in a better position to judge it.
The greater the wine, the more its service demands care and ritual. A simple
wine is drunk simply, but when a great vintage is served, the guests should have been given some discreet hint of its coming. In this lies the whole art of serving wine, so that the guests will wonder why the wines seemed so wonderfully harmonious on that particular evening.