Je souhaitais réaliser un plat léger, en conservant cette idée de fêtes, de plat festif. C’était tout trouvé avec cette très agréable recette de dinde parfumée à l’orange. Un bouquet de saveurs parfaitement équilibré.

Temps de préparation : 10 mn

Temps de cuisson : 15 mn

Les ingrédients pour 4 personnes :

4 escalopes de dinde

2 oranges non traitées

1 c à s de miel

3 c à s d’armagnac

2 c à c de vinaigre de cidre

40 g de beurre

sel et poivre du moulin

Commencez par prélever le zeste des oranges et taillez-les en bâtonnets.

Ebouillantez-les 2 mn dans l’eau frémissance et égouttez-les.

Pressez les oranges et réservez le jus.

Cuisez les escalopes dans le beurre 3 mn de chaque côté selon l’épaisseur. Salez, poivrez et réservez-les au chaud, enveloppées dans du papier d’aluminium.

Déglacez la poêle à l’armagnac et ajoutez le jus d’orange. Portez à ébulition et laissez réduire cette sauce, 2 mn à frémissements. Salez, poivrez et incoporez le miel, le vinaigre et les bâtonnets de zeste. Laissez légèrement caraméliser 2 à 3 mn.

Réchauffez les escalopes dans la poêle 1 mn à feu doux et servez enfin la volaille nappée de cette bonne sauce parfumée, accompagnée de haricots verts et éventuellement de rondelles d’orange poêlées.

Suggestion : Vous pouvez bien entendu remplacer les escalopes de dinde par des suprèmes de poulet.

BONNES FETES !

8.30 – Min mobil-alarm lyder lavere, end den plejer at være. Jeg var nær ikke vågnet. Eller måske er jeg bare ved at vænne mig til Champagnegaloppen. Tænker, at jeg vil finde noget andet Lumbye til decembers morgenvækning.

8.40 – Jeg tror, jeg er blevet blind. Kan i  hvert fald ikke se andet end slørede ting i mit synsfelt.

8.41 – Note to self: Det hjælper ikke på synet at spraye brillerens direkte ind i øjnene. Man skulle tro det, ja, men det gør det altså ikke. Og hvad skal man så egentlig bruge brillerens til?

8.50 – Et bad senere begynder brillerensen at virke alligevel. Kan endda se, at jeg er kommet til at putte bodywash i håret, men heldigvis gør det ikke den store forskel, idet alle jo ved, at der er det samme lort i alle de der tuber, men kosmetikindustrien bare bilder os ind, at vi ikke må bruge shampoo på huden, fordi… ja, hvorfor egentlig ikke? Til gengæld må man gerne bruge balsam som barberskum på benene, fordi det ”blødgør hårene.” Man skal bare huske, at det måske er dumt at benytte volumenshampoo. Forvirret? Det er jeg også!

9.10 – Der er ingen vigtige, der er døde i løbet af natten. På et eller andet tidspunkt må der komme en hel bunke af kendte mennesker, der dør, du ved… bare for at udfylde novembers kvote. Og så på den anden side, Robert Enke gælder vel for 10, så det er sikkert meget fair, at døden lige venter med at hente flere prominente folk til juletiden sætter rigtig ind. P.S. Jeg er altså ikke sådan en freak, der bare sidder og venter på, at folk dør, så  jeg kan skrive flamboyante nekrologer til dem. Den slags har vi navneredaktionen til.

9.45 – Møder ind på arbejde. Drikker en kop kaffe med den sidste mælk i køleskabet. Jeg kan ikke så godt lide kaffe uden mælk. Det smager for sort. Jeg kan bedst lide det sådan lidt blødt og går ofte moderat i panik, hvis der pludselig ikke er mere mælk i redaktionens køleskabe. Så kan jeg simpelthen ikke arbejde i op til flere timer, før det er bragt i orden.

10.08 – Får for første gang rent faktisk formuleret, hvad det er, jeg er i gang med i plenum på morgenmødet. Normalt kan mine hjernehalvdele ikke arbejde sammen før klokken 12 (mindst) men i dag kan jeg på mirakuløs vis flette op til flere sætninger sammen, der giver go’, faglig mening. Sker der? Er så meget i ave over mine orale færdigheder, at jeg beslutter mig for lige at tage en times pause efter mødet for at dampe af.

11.30 – Skriver på en artikel med indledningen: ”Et egern går ind til en guldsmed og siger…” Det bliver mit ypperste arbejde hidtil.

12.31 – Chefen ringer og siger, at han ikke er udpræget tilfreds med, at jeg diskret fletter egern ind i alle mine artikler om klimatopmødet. Jeg påpeger, at også egern er ofre for klimaforandringerne. Dén kan han ikke rigtig komme igen på. 1-0 til gnaverne.

12.39 – Til alle de undrende: Den er go’ nok. Jeg har stadig uheld i luftguitar!

13.00 – Har du nogensinde tænkt over, hvor langt der egentlig er til Glumsø? Uanset hvor man næsten befinder sig, er der langt derud. Glumsø er Sjællands svar på Brovst. Det er bare langt værre end Brovst, fordi Brovst i det mindste har et badeland og naturskønne områder i nærheden. Glumsø har bare en klam lille sø og lugter af Ringsted. Ingen af de ting har nogensinde været godt for nogen. Jeg ved ikke, hvorfor jeg tænker på Glumsø, når jeg er på arbejde, men et reelt kontraspørgsmål ville være, hvornår man så ellers skulle tænke på Glumsø. Og især de stakkels folk der bor der og ikke må flytte væk på grund af karantæne og smittefare. Hvem støtter de mennesker? Ak og ve!

Kaffe over Weekendavisen!

13.15 – ”Hej, jeg hedder Berit, og jeg har lige tabt en kop kaffe ud over Weekendavisen.”

13.34 – Havde nær glemt det, men jeg vil gerne dementere alle rygter om, at jeg skulle have ondt af Andreas Røpke. Man kan ikke have ondt af SF’ere, når det handler om politik. De har kun godt af at finde ud af, at verden er et koldt, uretfærdigt og kynisk sted at leve. Så kan det være, de langt om længe tillægger sig et lidt mindre næstekærligt og naivt menneskesyn. Som Dansk Folkeparti, for eksempel. De er kun næstekærlige over for folk over 60. Det bringer mig til den konklusion, at folk over 60 skal fratages deres stemmeret. Og det skal folk i Kalundborg også.

14.00 – Dropper alligevel egern-vinklen på dagens historie og indleder i stedet med ”en forpustet pingvin løber ind til slagteren og råber…” Det fungerer bedre i sammenhængen. Jeg er sådan en fantastisk journalist.

14.05 – Nogle gange må man bide sin faglige stolthed i sig og indse, at de danske medier ikke er parate til dyrerelaterede artikelindledninger. Jeg er harm. Men jeg ændrer gerne min Cavling-aspirerende historie til noget mere konformt for at lefle for masserne. Fuck det. Resten af min dag må forsvinde i en grå glemsel af mandags-weltschmertz.

14.06 – P.S. Hvad pokker ER Armagnac egentlig? Man kan købe en årgang 1989 for 349,- i Vinoble.

14.10 – Når man har det sådan rigtig elendigt, kan man finde trøst i, at det altid er ringere i Randers.

C’est cette sérieuse question que je me suis posée lors d’un dîner organisé par le Salon Spirit.

Le but de l’opération était pourtant simple : trouver pour les plats proposés un ou plusieurs accords avec ces divers alcools : whisky, cognac, armagnac, vodka, alcools de fruits et j’en passe. L’exercice était bien difficile mais, surtout, est-il vraiment possible pour un vrai plaisir gustatif ?

En regardant mes voisins à table, le constat fût sans appel. D’un coté, les verres d’eau minérale toujours vides, et de l’autre, les verres des divers alcools, même excellents (pour ne pas dire exceptionnels), presque intacts… No comment.

Les sommeliers présents à cette soirée essayaient de défendre desespèrement leur cause en décrivant chaque accord avec des mots quelque peu trop imagés à mon sens. Ils ont ainsi imaginé des compromis, presque parfaits selon eux, entre les divers alcools et du foie gras, de la dorade royale, une pièce de boeuf Saint George ou bien encore avec du roquefort. Mais ce fût peu convaincant malgré tous leurs efforts.

Quoi qu’il en soit, avec ce type de repas, on reste plutôt dans l’imaginaire que dans le réel. Et un seul accord s’avéra être vraiment satisfaisant : ce fût ce petit canapé Bagnat au caviar en guise d’apéritif avec un verre de vodka blanche bien glacé, les fameux « zakuski » qu’on n’imagine pas autrement. De même en fin de repas, un mille feuille aux poires avec un petit verre de poire williams. Pourquoi pas.

Ainsi, la conclusion est très simple, on peux toujours imaginer des accords plus insolites les uns que les autres, mais est-ce que tout cela a un véritable sens gustatif ? Chaque alcool, vins ou simple boisson non alcoolisée a un rôle à jouer dans le parcours gustatif de chacun. Et rassurez vous, tout n’est pas figé, mais il y a des règles à respecter. Elles sont quelques fois très classiques, mais ça marche !

Cognac, armagnac, vieux rhum ou eaux de vie… Ce sont des alcools de contemplation et de réflexion, qui se dégustent et re-dégustent confortablement tout en douceur, le plus souvent pour eux même, en toute simplicité ou, encore mieux, en les associant à un tout nouveau vitol trouvé dans une fabrique à la Havane.

Pas de panique le calme est revenu.

Pretty little plums!

Or rather, Plum and Cognac Ice Cream for me.  I got the inspiration for this recipe from an absolutely tempting looking Plum-Armagnac Galette in the September issue of Cooking Light magazine. Relying on my deeply held principles that any dessert can be successfully converted to an ice cream, I resolved to create an ice cream that would marry the classic flavors of brandy and sweet-tart, ripe,  fall harvest plums.

When I arrived at the liquor store however, I discovered that my plans would have to make a slight detour. Though my vision originally called for Armangnac, my wallet brought my feet quickly to the ground at over $50 a bottle. So because I am an aspiring pastry chef, and not a professional one, I decided on a lovely little nip of Cognac instead for a much more economical price of $1.  The lesson learned is that feel free to substitute almost any kind of brandy here for the Armagnac, and if you do happen to be a famous and wealthy pastry chef you might just want to spring for the real thing.

Brandied Plum Jam

One thing that can be tricky when working with fruit based ice creams is that they have a tendency to go icy. Fruit is basically full of water, which if simply pureed can lead to an inferior ice cream texture.  I think I’ve found one way of solving that problem by making a quick skillet fruit jam which extracts most of the water from the fruit and also adds a rich, ripened fruit flavor to the ice cream base. I also include a small amount of pureed fresh fruit right before churning for a bit of brightness.

Delicious, easy and adaptable.

Brown sugar base.

As a last minute touch, I decided to whisk brown sugar into the egg yolks instead of the usual white cane sugar.  You could make the ice cream either way, but I think the bit of brown sugar brought out some of the caramel notes in the jam.

The freshly churned ice cream.

As for the finished product…. Well what can I say, it was plumb awesome!  Sorry, I just couldn’t resist. It turned out to be a delicious flavor that’s perfectly suited to autumn. The cognac, plum and hint of brown sugar combined to create a flavor with complexity that mirrors the classic French combination. Honestly, I seriously thinking about making the galette now. And if I do, I can definitely think of the perfect ice cream to make it al a mode.

Recipe

Ingredients:

Prepared Plum Jam (recipe follows)

1 cup chopped fresh plums

1 cup heavy cream

1 cup whole milk

1/4 cup white or brown sugar

3  large egg yolks

pinch of salt

1-3 tablespoons Armangnac or Cognac, to taste

1.)    Place plum jam and fresh plums in food processor. Pulse until blended. If desired, strain mixture through a sieve to get rid of plum skin (I didn’t, but I like texture in my ice cream).

2.)    Combine milk and heavy cream in a medium saucepan and set over medium heat. Heat until bubbles appear near the rim of the saucepan and steam begins to rinse, but do not let it boil.

3.)    Meanwhile whisk the egg yolks together in a large bowl and gradually add the sugar. Whisk the mixture until the yolks look fluffy and turn a pale yellow color.

4.)    All the while whisking the egg yolk mixture, slowly and gradually add milk mixture and when fully emulsified, pour the mixture back into the medium saucepan. Over low heat constantly mix the base with a spatula or wooden spoon until it thickens slightly and can coat the back of a wooden spoon, about 6 minutes.

5.)    Immediately remove from heat and transfer to a large bowl. Add the pinch of salt and brandy and refrigerate 4 hours to overnight. Freeze according to your ice cream machine’s instructions. Enjoy!

Make it a sundae!

 Although it might seem a bit unconventional, in Italy and other European countries chocolate and Armangnac are often paired together with delicious results. Try adding a dark chocolate hot fudge sauce and whipped cream. Another option would be a raspberry sauce which partners beautifully with plums.

 The lighter side-

Feel to substitute whole milk or half and half for heavy cream in this recipe. If anything it will only make the flavors more intense, which is the reason gelati is often made this way in Italy.

 Plum Jam

Ingredients

                     4  cups sliced plums

                  1/2  cup  sugar

                    3 tablespoons brandy or other liquor

Combine plums, sugar, and 3 tablespoons brandy in a heavy Dutch oven; bring to a boil. Reduce heat; simmer until reduced to 1 1/2 cups (about 30-40 minutes), stirring occasionally. Remove from heat. Spoon into a container; cool to room temperature. Cover and chill.

Day 01

My get-away to Camp David (as in Hasselhoff) started off like that first shot of a hard liquor you haven’t tried and are suprised to find it so strong and so damn mild.

i rode business class across the drink ’cause i’m classy that way. Klassy with a capital ‘K’, babes. i could tell because i was the only one Klassy enough to snap cell phone pictures of everything that passed across my extra large fold out tray.

BTW, the quality of the photos is due to the cell phone as much as it is my double vision.

i started off with two glasses of champagne. (Miss D is totally T so i stole her drinks throughout the entire flight.)

Champs

After that i graduated to a double Glenlivet that was old enough to get me arrested if it were a girl and i enjoyed her as much as i did the drink.

12-year-old Glenlivenit Up

Dinner service came just after and i swigged a white Burgundy with my foie gras (which is French for pâté).

White Burgundy & Liverwurst with an Attitude

With the lamb chop main course, i went for 2 glasses of Haut Medoc and fell so hard for it that i’m convinced the name is French for “Help Me Doc”.

Help Me Docs

After dinner i couldn’t decide on what to erase my palate with, so i didn’t–decide, that is. i had two digestives: a Cognac (Delamain Pale & Dry XO Grande Champagne–’pale & dry’ sounds more like a weather report than a drink and i love how the name sends you hugs and kisses, but there you go) and an Armagnac.

Hugs & Kisses Cognac Mingling With Armagnac

i was as smooth and mellow as the booze after that so i weaned myself off the bottle with a white wine that was so dry i needed five glasses to quench my thirst.

White Wine so Dry It Made Me Thirsty

Two More of the Same

The Last One

My notes stop after that, but i found this last photo lingering on my phone, so logically there must have been a stowaway.

My Mysterious Stowaway

See my nuts? Honey roasted, ’cause i’m Klassy that way.

Man, i was so high that even after the plane landed i was still flying.

Yep, Klassy with a capital ‘K’, that’s me.

Currently Drinking: Water; at lunch i even left the bottle of table wine untouched. i still don’t feel right about drinking without the amount of opium laced paracetamol i’ve been dropping.

Hangover Forecast: Mostly sunny. So far so good as far as the drugs are concerned.

Before I forget I attach a link to a recent article I’ve written for bars&clubs magazine for their July issue, entitled The Accidental Hero. It’s a piece centered on brandy, but not just those of the grape kind, I dedicate a little white space to the clear brandies that get little attention these days by bartenders, the unappreciated eaux-de-vies…

In other news:

Just weeks away now from my adventure to the Scottish highlands and the itinerary is filling up, the wonderful world of whisky awaits me and I’m ready to be up to my knees in sodden peat and good old Scottish cheer!
In a personal triumph, I have managed to also steal a wee few hours with the man himself Mr Tom Nicol, Tanqueray master distiller, at his home away from home the CameronBridge distillery down in Fife.
What a blessed industry I am in…
A toast!

Unwind, sip a little wine…
Savor a delicate Amuse Bouche. Enjoy a Convival Atmosphere.

The evening begins at 4:00 pm at Callaloo Cuisine Wine Bar with complimentary Amuse Bouche, a gift from the chef. Amuse Bouche is served until 6:30 pm, Tuesday thru Saturday. French wines sold by the bottle are available by the glass. Bar menu and wine list served all day.

If French wines are a little greek to you, this is an opportunity to taste them and experience for yourself. 2000 years of practice in the art of viticulture.

Get a feel for the Vielle Vignes!

Delightful Dining at Callaloo Cuisine
Enjoy our unique and carefully selected list of champagnes, wines, sherries, French beer, French Ciders, Cognacs, Armagnacs and other spirits.White Wines Rose’s Champagne & Sparkling Wines
Red Wines Half Bottles Wines by the Glass
Spirits Aperitif & Digestif

White Wines

Alsace 2004 Gentil, Bott-Geyl
2004 Riesling, Josmeyer “Le Kottabe”
2004 Riesling, Schlumberger, Saering Grand Cru
2005 Riesling, Meyer-Fonné
2001 Riesling, Lorentz, Altenberg Grand Cru
2004 Gewurztraminer, Ostertag
2005 Gewurztraminer, Zind Humbrecht
1999 Gewurztraminer, Lorentz, Altenberg Grand Cru
1997 Gewurztraminer, Lorentz, Altenberg Grand Cru
2005 Gewurztraminer, Meyer-Fonné
1994 Gewurztraminer, Lorentz, Vendange Tardive
2007 Pinot Gris Reserve, Lorentz
2005 Pinot Gris Reserve, Zind Humbrecht
2001 Pinot Gris, Lorentz, Altenberg Grand Cru
2002 Pinot Gris, Lorentz, Altenberg Grand Cru
1996 Pinot Gris, Lorentz, Vendange Tardive
2001 Altenberg Grand Cru, M. Diess
Bordeaux 2007 Graves, Château Graville-Lacoste
2002 Graves, Beauregard Ducasse
2000 Pessac-Léognan, Château Carbonieux
Burgundy 2007 Bourgogne, J. Girardin
2006 Bourgogne, Les Vignerons Réunis
2007 Pouilly Fuissé, Noblet
2000 St. Aubin, Lamy les Frionnes 1er Cru
2005 St. Aubin, La Princée
2005 Pernand-Vergelesses, Château Chorey Le Beaune
2006 Santenay, J. Girardin, Les Terrasses de Biveaux
2005 Hautes-Côtes de Nuit, Daniel Rion
2005 Marsannay, Regis Bouvier
2004 Chablis, Verget, Terroir de Fleys
2005 Chablis, Bachelier
2004 Chablis, Gautheron, Les Fourneaux, 1er Cru
2002 Chablis, Olivier LeFlaive
1997 Chablis, Domaine Moreau et Fils, Valmur Grand Cru
2001 Puligny Montrachet, Olivier Leflaive
2000 Puligny Montrachet, Sauzet
1999 Chassagne Montrachet, Guy Amiot
Rhône/Sud Ouest 2007 Côtes du Rhône, Chapoutier
2006 Crozes-Hermitage, Chapoutier
2000 Condrieu, Chapoutier
2005 Condrieu, Philipe Faury
2002 Châteauneuf du Pape, Domaine Lazaret
2003 Châteauneuf du Pape, Vieux Télégraphe
2005 Bandol, Domaine Pibaron
1995 Hermitage, Chapoutier, Chante Alouette
2006 Hérault, Pico, Domaine du Poujol
2005 Côtes de Languedoc, J.B. Cavalier, Château de Lascaux
2004 Château Grillet, Neyret-Gachet
Loire Valley 2005 Muscadet, Domaine de la Fruitière
2006 Cheverny, Domaine Salvard
2006 Quincy, Philippe Poitier
2007 Vouvray, Jean Ernst
2006 Vouvray, Domaine Pichot
2000 Vouvray, Domaine du Viking
2001 Savonnières, Domaine Baumard
2007 Sancerre, Pascal Jolivet
2005 Pouilly Fumé, M. Redde
2006 Petit Bourgois, H. Bourgois
2005 Muscadet, Domaine de la Fruitière
2005 Côtes de Gascogne, Domaine Tariquet
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Rosés

2005 Saint-Chinian, Mas de Champart
2005 Bandol, Gros Noré
2005 Bandol, Domaine Pibaron
2005 Les Domainiers, Domaine Ott
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Champagne & Sparkling Wines

Champagne Joseph Perrier, Brut NV
”Louis Roederer, Brut Premier
Moët et Chandon, NV Brut Rosé
Nicolas Feuillatte, Brut NV
Moët & Chandon, Blanc de Blanc 1996
Charles Heidsieck, Brut Reserve
Henriot, Brut Souveraine
Mumm, Cremant de Cramant
Heidsieck, Blue Top
Laurent Perrier, Demi Sec
Joseph Perrier, Cuvée Joséphine 1998
Joseph Perrier, Cuvée Joséphine 1990
Joseph Perrier, Cuvée Royale
Perrier Jouët, Fleur de Champagne 1995
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Red Wines

Burgundy/Beaujolais 2004 Côte de Brouilly, Beaujolais, Château Thivin
2004 Côte de Brouilly, Beaujolais, R. Perroud
2007 Moulin-a-Vent, Beaujolais, Jacky Janodet
2007 Morgon, Beaujolais, Marcel Lapierre
2006 Bourgogne, Domaine Parent
2005 Bourgogne, René LeClerc
2004 Saint Aubin, Les Castets, 1er Cru
2006 Savigny les Beaune, Domaine Jean Louis DuBois
2001 Beaune, J. Prieur, Champs Pimont 1er Cru
1998 Beaune, C.V. Guillemard, Clos des Mouches, 1er Cru
2006 Santenay, J. Girardin, Clos Rousseau 1er Cru
1998 Vosne-Romanée, Michel Gros, Clos des Réas, 1er Cru, Monopole
2000 Vosne-Romanée, Michel Gros, Clos des Réas, 1er Cru, Monopole
2005 Monthélie, Domaine Parent
1999 Volnay, J. Boillot
2000 Volnay, J. Boillot
2002 Nuit St. George, Daniel Rion
2004 Nuit St. George, Nicholas Potel
2005 Chorey les Beaune, Château Chorey les Beaune
2005 Gevry Chambertin, Régis Bouvier
1998 Gevry Chambertin, R. Leclerc, Griottes, Grand Cru
1999 Gevry Chambertin, Jean Michel Guillon
1999 Corton Bressande, J. Prieur, Grand Cru
2001 Echézeaux, Devillard, Domaine des Predix, Grand Cru
2001 Charmes Chambertin, Nicholas Potel, Grand Cru

Bordeaux 2003 Première Côtes de Bordeaux, Château de Millé
2004 Haute Médoc, Château St. Paul
2005 Bergerac, Château Calabre
2005 Fronsac, Fleur Haute Gaussens
1998 Listrac, Château Forcas Hosten
2005 Margaux, Blason d’Issan
2002 Margaux, Château Palmer
2005 Margaux, Château Larruau
2000 St. Estephe, Château Calon Ségur
2005 St. Estephe, Château Haute-Beausejour
2002 St. Estephe, Les Pagodes de Cos
2001 Pauillac, Les Gartieux
2003 Pauillac, Château Grand Puy Ducasse
1999 Pauillac, Mouton Rothschild, 1er Cru
2003 Pauillac, Ponet Canet
2001 St. Julien, de Pichon Longueville
2002 St. Julien, Amiral de Beycheville
2002 St. Julien, Les Fiefs des Lagrange
2000 St. Emilion, Trilogie St. George
2005 St. Emilion, Château Saint-André Corbin
2005 St. Emilion, Font Villac
2000 St. Emilion, Château La Gaffelière
1990 St. Emilion, Château St. George
2000 St. Emilion, Château St. George
1999 St. Emilion, Château St. George
2001 St. Emilion, Château St. George
1999 St. Emilion, Château St. George
Rhône 2005 Côtes du Rhône, E. Guigal
2006 Côtes du Rhône, Domaine La Millière
2001 Crozes Hermitage, Jaboulet Aîné
2006 Crozes Hermitage, Les Meysonniers, Chapoutier
1999 Crozes Hermitage, Louis Bernard
2003 Saint Joseph, Domaine Coursodan
2003 Gigondas, Raspail-Ay
2005 Costières de Nîmes, Perrières, M. Kreydenweiss
1997 Cornas, Jaboulet Aîné
2001 Cornas, Chapoutier
2003 Côte Roti, Brune et Blonde, E. Guigal
2005 Châteauneuf du Pape, Domaine Autard
2003 Châteauneuf du Pape, Vieux Télégraphe
2001 Châteauneuf du Pape, Château la Gardine
2006 Châteauneuf du Pape, Domaine La Millière
Loire 2005 Sancerre, Domaine Chotard
2006 Anjou, D. Lavreau, Clos Frémur
2005 Touraine, J.F. Merieau
2005 Chinon, Marc Brédif

2004 Chinon, Baudry, Les Granges
2004 Bourgueil, C & P Breton, Trinch
Provence/Sud Ouest 2004 Bandol, Gros Noré
2004 Bandol, Domaine Tempier, Cuvée Classique
2000 Cahors, A.D. Perrin, Clos La Coutale
2004 Minervois, Château Tour Boisée

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Half Bottles

White Wines
2002 Pinot Gris, Alsace, Gustave Lorentz, Altenberg Grand Cru
1996 Pinot Gris, Alsace, Gustave Lorentz, Vendange Tardive
2007 Graves, Bordeaux, Graville-Lacoste
2005 Sancerre, Loire, Roger Champault
2005 Pouilly Fumé, Loire, Domaine Seguin
2005 Pouilly Fuissé, Burgundy, Noblet
2005 Chassagne Montrachet, Guy Amiot
2000 Puligny Montrachet, E. Sauzet

Champagne & Sparkling Wines
Joseph Perrier, Brut
Taittinger, Brut La Française
Heidsieck, Blue Top

Red Wines
2004 Santenay, Burgundy, J. Girardin, Clos Rousseau, 1er Cru
2000 Volnay, Burgundy, J.M. Boillot
2005 Gevry Chambertin, Burgundy, René LeClerc
2002 Gigondas, Rhône, Raspail-Ay
2000 Crozes-Hermitage, Rhône, Jaboulet Aîné
2000 Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Rhône, Château Gardine
2001 St. Emilion, Bordeaux, Château St. George
2002 Pomerol, Bordeaux, Clos René
2002 Haute-Médoc, Bordeaux, Château Lamouthe Bergerone
2002 Saint-Estèphe, Bordeaux, Les Pagodes de Cos
2003 Margaux, Bordeaux, Château Blason d’Issan
2001 St. Julien, Bordeaux, Amiral de Beychevelle
2002 St. Julien, Bordeaux, Château Lagrange
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Wines by the Glass

Some of our best “by the bottle” wines are also available “by the glass.”

White Wines
Champagne, Nicolas Feuillatte Brut

Pinot Gris, Alsace, Gustave Lorentz

Vouvray, Loire, Jean Ernst

Graves, Bordeaux, Graville-Lacoste

Petit Bourgois, Loire, H. Bourgois

Haute-Côtes de Nuit, Burgundy, D. Rion

Red Wines
Nouveau Beaujolais, G. DuBoeuf

Bourgogne, Burgundy, Domaine Parent

Bordeaux, Château de Millé

Bordeaux, Fleur Haut Gaussen, Fronsac

Côtes du Rhône, Domaine Brunel

Rosé Wines

Saint-Chinian, Mas Champart

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Spirits

Vodka Tequila Marie Brizard Liqueurs
Grey Goose Jose Cuervo Banane
Grey Goose Orange Creme de Menthe
Grey Goose Citron Scotch Amaretto
Grey Goose Vanilla Dewars Creme de Cassis
Ciroc French Vodka Johnnie Walker Black Parfait Amour
Hangar One Citron Johnnie Walker Gold
Hangar One Kaffir Lime Bruichladdie (10/15) Peach Schnapps
Balvenie (10,12,15,21)
Gin Cragganmore 12 Ashborne Irish Creme
Citadelle Dalwhinnie 15 Chartreuse Green
Glenkinchie 10 Perle Brillet Poire
Rum Talisker 10 Cointreau
Bacardi Silver Drambuie
Bacardi Limon Vermouth Frangelico
Noilly Prat Dry Galliano
Whiskey Noilly Prat Sweet Kahlua
Jack Daniel’s Black Vermeer
Southern Comfort Campari Chateau Monet
V.O. Lillet Blanc/Rouge Chambord
Harvey’s Bristol Cream GrandMarnier
Bourbon Alize 100 Grand Marnier
Basil Hayden 150 Grand Marnier
Maker’s Mark

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Aperitif & Digestif

Port Tawny, 10 Year, Ramos Pinto
Tawny, 20 Year, Fonseca
1986 Colheita, Smith Woodhouse
2000 LBV, Ramos Pinto
Madeira, Charleston, Fine Wines
Dessert Wines 2005 Sauterne, Château Les Tuileries
2000 Sauterne, Château Rieussec
2003 Beaumes de Venise, Jaboulet Aîné
2005 Banyuls Rouge, Chapoutier
2005 Banyuls Blanc, La Tour Vielle
1996 Tokay, Pinot Gris, Lorentz, Vendange Tardive
1994 Gewurztraminer, Lorentz, Vendange Tardive
1996 Vouvray Nectar, Marc Bredif
2003 Quarts de Chaume, Domaine Baumard
Armagnac & Cognac D’Or VSOP
D’Or XO
Delamain Vesper
Delamain XO
Hennessey XO
Camus, Joséphine, Pour Femme
Domaine Darroze Armagnac Reseve
Calvados Roger Groult, Pays d’Auge 8 year old
Marc, Eau-de-Vie & Cremes

Marc de Bourgogne
Marc de Bandol
Framboise Sauvage, Mazzenez
Kirsch, Mazzenez
Mirabelle, Mazzenez
Poire William, Mazzenez
Pêche Liqueur, Mazzenez
Pain d-Epicés, Metté
Gingembre, Metté
Scotch Bruichladdie 10 year
Bruichladdie 15 year
Balvenie 10 year
Balvenie 12 year Doublewood
Balvenie 15 year Single Barrel
Balvenie 21 year Portwood
Dalwhinnie 15 year
Talisker 10 year
Cragganmore 12 year
Glenkinchie 10 year
Johnnie Walker Gold
Dewar’s White Label
Johnnie Walker Black Label
Aperitif

Lillet Blanc
Lillet Rouge
Harvey’s Bristol Cream
Beer

Fischer/France 22 oz.
Guiness/Ireland
Stout/Ireland
Amstel Light/Holland
Hard Apple Cider

Cidre Bouche Brut D’ Normandie
Pays D’ Auge
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** Wine List is subject to change without notice.

Cocker Spaniel och Morkullor

Våren är på väg. Första dagarna med konseventa plustemperaturer noterades gången helg. Nu dröjer det inte länge förrän Morkullorna börjar dra i sena vårnatten över bäckravinen bakom mitt hus.

Hemingway jagade Morkulla i Ungern. Det sägs att han helst bodde på Hotell Gellert på Buda-sidan av Budapest vars café, Gellert Espresso, för övrigt är (eller i alla fall var) en helt spektakulärt bevarad 50-tals-sal med smäckra möbler, te i lösvikt och Ungerska servitriser i förkläde och hätta. Till teet serverar dessa makalösa servitriser en liten sötsyrlig citronkvargtårta. Fyrkantiga bitar med den tunnaste spröda frasdegsbotten och ett tunt täcke av perfekt hallonmarmelad. Nyttigt och gott.

På ett annat, lite mindre hotell, dinerade Frederic Henry och hans olyckliga kärlek Catherine Barkley på Morkulla mitt under brinnande världskrig;

“- Monsieur och madame behagar dinera på rummet?

- Ja. Var vänlig och ta upp matsedeln, sade jag.

- Önskar ni någon specialrätt till middag? Något vilt eller en sufflé?

Hissen gick förbi tre våningar. Det knäppte i den för varje våning. Sedan stannade den med en knäppning.

- Vad har ni för vilt?

- Fasan och morkulla.

- Morkulla, sade jag. Vi gick genom korridoren. Mattan var sliten. Där fanns många dörrar. Direktören stannade vid en dörr och öppnade den.

- Var så god. Ett förtjusande rum.

…

Catherine hade min rock över axlarna medan vi åt. Vi var hungriga och maten var god, och vi drack en flaska capri och en flaska St Estephe. Jag drack det mesta av det, men Catherine drack något, och det försatte henne på ett strålande humör. Till middag åt vi morkulla med potatissufflé och kastanjepuré, en sallad…”

Farväl Till Vapnen, Ernest Hemingway, 1929

Jag brukade laga den där Morkullan. Frederic Henrys och Catherine Barkleys Morkulla. Noga räknat så ska det inte vara potatissufflé utan Pommes Souffles. Må låta likt men är världar isär. Pommes Souffles är dubbelfriterade potatisskivor, inte sufflé.

Rätten kom till vid invigningen av järnvägen mellan Paris och St Germain 1837 som en konsekvens av att kocken som lagade det franska kungaparets middag var tvungen att plocka upp potatisen ur frityroljan när deras tåg hade blivit försenad. När kungaparet väl kom stoppade kocken helt sonika tillbaka skivorna i oljan och voilà, Pommes Souffles. 1975 års översättare av Farväl Till Vapnen skulle ha haft TW på plats så hade det blivit rätt. 

Kastanjepurén är helt enkelt kastanjer, smör och grädde med lite selleri och fågelfond.

Kullan lagas med Citron, Smör, Dijon, Pancetta, Svartpeppar och bränns av på slutet med Armagnac eller Grappa. Kombinationen av syrligt, starkt och salt i emulsionen som man vispar samman av steksafterna och dijonsenapen tillsammans med hettan från flamberingen svarar fantastiskt mot det rosastekta lite söta Morkulleköttet. Allt går att dricka till. Vitt som Rött. 

Numera samlar man de enstaka morkullor man får under höstens jakter  och äter Frederic Henrys och Catherine Barkleys Woodcock Flambé vartannat eller vart tredje år. En kort period kunde man ersätta kullorna med Enkelbeckasiner tills de stoppade den jakten också. Ur led är tiden. 

(stinky)

Champagne and Newspaper Gift Sets.

Choose from Champagne, Cognac, Fine Wine, Malt Whiskey, Aged Port or Armagnac accompanied by a broadsheet newspaper with a personalised message in an attractive silk lined gift set.

You can add your own personalised greeting (up to 20 words / 200 characters in length) and specify the date you’d like the paper from (choose any date between 1900 and 2008).

If you’re stuck for that perfect gift idea for someone special, then we think these wine and newspaper gift sets are just the ticket.

The Armagnac can actually be ordered in 25, 30, 40, 50 and 60 year old options.

We’ll normally supply a genuine copy of The Times from the date you select (1900 to 2008), although if the date you select was a Sunday, please note a surcharge will apply and because of the scarcity of Sunday Times, another quality broadsheet may be supplied instead.

The Champagne and Newspaper gift sets – the latest personalised gift idea now available at Fabulous Photo Gifts.

At this month’s meeting, we are paying a little more attention to the fascinating liquor that is brandy.

Brandy looks and acts like a grain alcohol, but really, it’s a super-powered distilled wine often referred to as the “soul of wine.”

Here’s a little more background on Brandy taken from the wonderful book The Bar: A Spirited Guide to Cocktail Alchemy by Olivier Said and James Mellgren:

Generally speaking, brandy is a distilled wine. Brandy made from fruit other than grapes is called either “fruit brandy” or eau-de-vie.” Brandies distilled from wine are aged for a number of years in oak barrels, from which they derive their color and a significant amount of flavor. Typically, fruit brandies are not aged in wood, or at all and remain clear.

Brandies were likely the world’s first distilled spirits, and the ancient Egyptians and Arabs no doubt distilled grape-based wines in their alchemic search for medicines and perfumes.

At the meeting, we will explore the virtues of brandy in three common forms: American brandy, Cognac, and Pisco, used in three classic cocktails. On the menu:

Brandy Old Fashioned (a Wisconsin North Woods take on perhaps the first cocktail ever)

Sidecar (a distant cousin of the Daisy family–as in Gin Daisy)

Pisco Sour (a lively little cocktail from our South American brothers and sisters)

So check back to hear our thoughts and get the recipes on this fine lady of a liquor.

In the meantime, here is how to make a classic sidecar:

La Cocotte dans les Étoiles a déménagé… retrouvez dès maintenant tous les articles sur :
http://lacocottedesetoiles.free.fr

J’avais un petit paquet de calamars surgelés depuis un moment dans mon congélateur.
Mais aucune envie de les transformer en beignets ou de les noyer dans un litre de sauce tomates pour retomber dans le classique calamar à l’armoricaine, à l’américaine… bref à la tomate !
Bref je voulais un quelque chose d’un peu plus originale pour mes petits encornets avec de multiples saveurs pour rehausser le goût assez neutre des calamars.
Et je suis tombée sur une recette de mijoté que j’ai un peu transformé.
Toujours ultra facile à réaliser, avec des arômes variés, des épices… accompagné d’un riz nature tout simple ou de tagliatelles… et ça glisse tout seul.

Informations de base
Durée préparation : 20 min
Durée cuisson : 30 min
Durée repos : 0 min
Nombre de parts : 2
Retrouvez les autres informations (difficulté, thématique, saison, occasion, santé, minceur, végétarien…) dans les rubriques “Categorized” et “Tagged” en haut à droite de l’article.

Ingrédients dans l’ordre d’apparition… libre à vous de nuancer !
[Ingrédient utilisé et sa quantité] ≈ [Variante possible et sa quantité]
Encornets surgelés : 300 g (chez Picard)
Ail : 3 gousses
Échalotes : 1
Persil : ½ bouquet
Cerfeuil : ½ bouquet ≈ J’ai utilisé du cerfeuil déshydraté : 2 cs rases
Gingembre frais : 1 cm ≈ Gingembre en poudre : 1 cc
Tomates cerises : 10
Orange : 1
Citron : 1
Massalé : 1 cc ≈ Je n’en avais plus alors j’ai mélangé : 2 pincées de coriandre, 2 pincées de cumin, 2 pincées de girofle, 2 pincée de curcuma et 1 cc de moutarde à l’ancienne.
Huile d’olive : 1 cs
Beurre allégé (41% mg) : 1 cc
Concentré de tomates : 1 petite boîte (70g)
Armagnac : 5 cl ≈ Autres alcool : Cognac, Pineau des Charentes
Eau chaude : 10 cl
Sel et poivre

Recette

1. Préparation
Faire décongeler un peu les encornets (suivants les indications du paquet ou sous un filet d’eau tiède).
Les couper en rondelle au couteau ou avec des ciseaux. Réserver.
Éplucher et écraser l’ail. Réserver.
Éplucher et émincer l’échalote. Réserver.
Laver et ciseler le persil et le cerfeuil. Réserver.
Peler le morceau de gingembre et le découper en fine lamelles. Réserver.
Équeuter et laver les tomates cerises. Réserver.
Couper 2 fines tranches d’orange et 3 fines tranches de citron. Réserver.
(Si vous n’avez pas trouvé de massalé, le préparer en fonction des indications ci-dessus et réserver).

2. Cuisson
Faire chauffer à feu doux l’huile d’olive et le beurre dans une cocotte (ou une sauteuse… ou tout autre fait-tout muni d’un couvercle).
Y faire revenir l’ail, l’échalote, le persil, le cerfeuil et les encornets.
Ajouter le gingembre, le massalé, le concentré de tomates, les tomates cerises et l’armagnac.
Saler et poivrer selon votre goût. Remuer.
Verser l’eau chaude.
Déposer les tranches d’agrumes sur le dessus.
Laisser mijoter 20 minutes à feu moyen à demi-couvert.

3. Dressage
Ce mijoté est délicieux accompagné de riz nature, de riz cuit à la façon « risotto » ou encore de tagliatelles fraîches.

Conseils
Le mijoté est encore meilleur le lendemain réchauffé.

1 foie gras cru (d’environ 600g)
une poignée de pruneaux dénoyautés
2 cuillères à soupe d’armagnac
sel
poivre
farine et eau pour la lute

Laisser le foie se réchauffer à la température de la pièce pendant 2 heures environ

Le déveiner, j’utilise personnellement la méthode d’Eric Léautey qui limite fortement les dégâts :p
vous trouverez une vidéo expliquant tout ici

Comme j’avais une belle trace de sang sur mon foie comme le montre l’image, j’ai plongé le tout cinq minutes dans une eau glacée salée d’une poignée de gros sel

Dans la terrine, verser une cuillère à soupe d’Armagnac et placer dessus la moitié du foie en tassant bien. saler et poivrer

Ajouter les pruneaux.

Puis l’autre moitié du foie, une autre cuillère à soupe d’armagnac et de nouveau salez et poivrez.

Fermer la terrine et la lutiner (faire un mélange de farine et d’eau pour fermer hermétiquement la terrine avec un cordon de cette pâte).
Mettre le four à chauffer à 120°c et placer la terrine au réfrigérateur en attendant que le four soit chaud.
Verser de l’eau bouillante dans un grand plat et poser la terrine dedans.
Mettre au four pendant 30 minutes

A la sortie du four, casser la lute, ouvrir la terrine. mettre de cote le surplus de graisse. Puis poser un poids sur le foie ( ici un polystyrène emballé dans de l’alu avec une brique tetrapack posée dessus).

Laisser refroidir à température ambiante puis mettre (avec le poids) au réfrigérateur.
Le lendemain, enlever les poids, faire fondre la graisse qu’on avait mis de coté et la disposer dessus. remettre au frigo.

Deux jours plus tard, Démouler le foie en le trempant 1 minute dans de l’eau chaude

Bonne dégustation.

Miss Lavinia Letitia Lamont, ‘Topsy’ to her friends. I roll the name around my tongue, savouring the clipped consonants and flowing vowels. Never has a daughter so graceful, been born to a father so dull. The Major as he was known to every Tom, Dick and Harry in the shires, liked to brag of his influence in military circles – a claim so palpably spurious as to bear comparison to an overripe banana – infirm, unsound and on close inspection messy.

I open the throttle on the Bentley, and, sending the rooks skywards over the encircling woods I roar through the archway and onto the gravel, a rapid application of the handbrake sending a hail of pebbles lashing across the front of the Hall.

Inside, Lavinia twinkling a welcome across the room. I survey the competition. Algernon Alabaster Anderson, the half wit huntsman, grinning like a mental patient. Sebastian St.Clair Savage. A prancing poltroon, hysterical and half baked. Lavinia approaching, her smile lighting up the room. I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass, an imposing sight, darkly handsome, sideburns greying, giving a measure of gravitas, the scar on my right cheekbone hinting at some devil may care tomfoolery in my mysterious past.

Good god in heaven! She appears to be nursing a rat!

“Topsy, how very good of you to invite me along – I fancy a dish of tea, and may I enquire, the little friend? acquired whilst visiting the henhouse? Hmmm?”

My lupine smile, a wolf in sheeps clothing. Lock up your daughter Major Lamont, for the Oatenshaw charm has a powerful gravity.

“Why Peregrine, you are dreadful!”

Lavinia giggling coyly, the rat gazing at me with limpid eyes.

“This is Bugsy! Introduce yourself to the little chap..”

Playing along with this ridiculous charade, leaning forward, gripping a tiny paw between thumb and forefinger. The creature blinks and cocks its head, a pink tongue licking its lips. For all the world it could be smiling.

I make for the tea trolley, pausing only to ensure an abrupt collision with the hapless Hugo, balancing one too many teacups aloft. A very satisfactory crescendo of breaking china. A movement on the edge of my vision, Bugsy, gazing big eyed across the room at me, head cocked to one side, tongue hanging out, a repulsive creature only to be endured in service of the lovely Lavinia.

Helping myself to an Earl Grey, a robust confection, lightly perfumed, easy on the palette. Casting my eye around for the drinks cupboard, where I fancy an Amontillado or even an Armagnac may be found. Tipping my tea into an unattended handbag, I slide across the room, checking my visage in the glass as I do so, a double fronted cabinet, surely housing the sherry, my goal.

The rattle of claws on the parquet, it’s Bugsy, positioning himself between the drinks cabinet and me, he looks at me, head cocked, lips drawn back, tiny teeth bared – a high pitched rattle issuing from the tiny throat. Around me the conversation dies, people turn around and stare.

“I say Oatenshaw! You’re not going to be bested by a Chihuahua are you old chap?”

The laughter rolls around the room like fog. My mood perceptibly darkens – its time to deal with this bloody dog. Bending forwards, I loom out of the clamour towards the animal. My hand, palm inward, outstretched. A peaceful emissary I want him to think – in a minute I’ll have him, then curtains for Bugsy…

The dog gazes at me, drops its head to one side and begins to trot towards me, its  head down, eyes fixed on mine, panting. Is the bloody animal drunk I think, wondering now if this ghastly charade is a price worth paying for an audience with the lovely Lavinia.

Just six inches away now, the crowd, silent now, engrossed in this display of animal magnetism – “He can charm the birds out of the trees” I hear somebody whisper. Soon Bugsy will be within my grasp, a quick flip, a broken neck, such a terrible shame Peregrine, the two of you were getting along so well…

I bend lower, hand outstretched, Bugsy motionless, those limpid globes gazing up at me, head to one side – I swear the beast is smiling!

I freeze, Bugsy with a low growl, darts forward and clambers onto my leg, front feet clasped tightly around my calf – and to my horror begins a twitching of the hind quarters and a rhythmic nudging against my calf. Mortified, I spring to my feet, reaching out for the poker, Bugsy in seventh heaven, pumping vigorously against my brand new calfskin boot. The howls of mirth form the assembled audience enraging me, I raise the poker high above my head, and …

“Peregrine, what on earth are you’re doing?” Lavinia’s horrified face.

Dragging the lovestruck hound, still fastened, limpetlike to my leg I scramble for the safety of the sofa , the guffaws ringing in my ears. Livid, I club Bugsy viciously across the head, succeeding only in cracking my own kneecap. With a ghastly groan the beast completes his amorous mission and with dignity scattered to the four winds, I barge past the cackling cronies and make crab like for the door.

“Peregrine!”

I’m through the door and onto the gravel, humiliated and broken, banjaxed, a chihuahua’s pitiful paramour. I haul myself painfully toward the Bentley, thinking bitterly that compared to this, even France was not so bad.

Legend has it that a group of Dutch exporters and French vintners thought to maximize shipping (and profit) by distilling their wines.  At the final destination they would reconstitute the product, approximating the original.

They were mistaken.  Shipped in oak barrels, the wine’s flavour was irrevocably altered.

However, they had quite by accident discovered a new spirit.  Deriving its name from the Dutch word brandewijn, or burnt wine, it was immortalized as brandy.

Today, two French regions are considered the unequivocal masters of this spirit—Cognac and the slightly lesser known Armagnac.

Of the two, Cognac remains king but connoisseurs contend that Armagnac is a superior quaff.

Eager to learn what all the fuss was about, I headed for the MLCC flagship store at Grant Park…and disappointment.

At the time, they offered a meager selection.  A trinity of Cognacs-Courvoissier, Remy Martin and Hennesey- stood shoulder to shoulder with one lonely Armagnac-Samalens.  (They have since added Otard).

But an amendment to Manitoba’s Liquor Control Act promised to change all that.  Under the new law, boutique wine stores would be allowed to carry spirits derived specifically from grapes.

Within days of the amendment, Mo Razik boarded a plane for Europe armed with his chequebook and a consuming passion for the best brandy.

One year later his store, Fenton’s Fine Wines, brims with the fruits of his labour.  Hanging like the firmament above his first floor wine boutique at Winnipeg’s Forks Market, he has amassed a second to none inventory of grappa, marc, liqueurs, cognac and a stunning array of vintage Arrmagnac from every year back to 1953. A shrewd business owner who recognizes that good sales pre-suppose greater demand, he offers a number of appreciation courses and tastings.

I promptly signed up.  I assumed it would be an opportunity to sample a great variety of Cognacs beyond the three offered at the LC.  And maybe a few Armagnacs. I had a number of preconceptions going in.  I admit I am a bit of a snob.  I hold firm to the belief that Cognac is the unequivocal king of post-prandials.

Narrow minded?  Yes.  But in my defense I’m limited by geography.  I’ve partaken only of the three locally avaialble.  As for Armagnacs, the aforementioned Samalens and a one-off whose name I can’t recall, impulsively snagged at an airport gift shop when I visited Paris.

The evening began with a discussion of the craft—from ingredients to distillation methods, growing regions to regulations, aging and blending to distribution and pricing.

Then, at long last, it was time to taste.

The blogger embarks on some serious blow-harding and know-it-alling in the following section. Taste is a subjective thing. Don’t take my word for it. Try them yourself.

We began with a grappa, a three-year-old Bottega Cellini Grappa Oro (more on this later). Next a sampler of two German brandies. Of these I preferred the cheaper Wilthener (VS) at $28.95 over the Riesling based Scholss (VSOP) at 45.95 per bottle.

Heading to Spain we sampled a $26.95 Perez Barquero Brigadier. And hello Spain! Maple hued, the colour announced its bouquet beautifully.  Subtle caramel and chocolate flavours ushered in a pleasant hazelnut espresso finish.  I enjoyed it so much, I couldn’t help but feel like I was cheating considering my longstanding love affair with Cognac.

Not a moment too late, the French saved the day.  A Prunier VSOP Cognac ($52.95) followed by a Delord VS Armagnac ($39.95).  Finally, back to back I had the benefit of immediate comparison.

Both had a copper colour.  The Cognac greeted me with aromas of apricots and a whiff of spice.  The fruity bouquet carried through the tasting with apricot marmalade yielding to a subtle sweet chipotle finish.  The Armagnac offended my nose with vinegar and ammonia scents which someone described as prune.  Take your word for it.  Thankfully its taste was a departure from its aroma, suggesting a marriage of almonds and bruleed figs with a chocolate finish.

I suspected the order was carefully chosen because the Armagnac segued deliciously into the liqueurs—a coffee Cognac and peach grappa.

The coffee cognac liqueur by F. Gacon featured bold burnt cherry aromas and cloying demerara sugar and mocha flavours.  I found it sickly and overwhelming.  And at $43.95, I’ll stick with straight Cognac.

And the Grappa.  Whereas my first grappa of the evening, with its treated leather bouquets and a typically obnoxious anise finish, had reinforced everything I believed of that spirit, its peachy cousin was…well, just peachy.

It seduced me immediately with lavender and honey perfumes and lulled me into a love affair with buttery lychee syrup flavours.  And at only $24.95 it’s a bargain addition to your liquor cabinet.

Tasting over, horizons broadened, comparisons made.  So what about those preconceptions?  Cognac still reigns supreme in my book.  But my belief that it stood unparalleled in the world of brandies? Like the Dutch and French, I had made a mistake.  And as a result I have discovered a beautiful new world of spirits. I have discovered that there is indeed, a world beyond Cognac.

Fenton’s Fine Wines
106 The Forks Market
Winnipeg, Manitoba. R3C 4A7
(204) 956-4613
Fax: (204)947-9089

J’ai passé cette après midi un très bon moment à la foire aux vins de Reims. Dans le Parc des expos et jusqu’à lundi, c’est l’occasion de déguster des vins de toutes les régions mais également charcuterie et fromages. J’ai en particulier eu le plaisir de gouter auprès d’un propriétaire récoltant d’Armagnac le Floc rosé, un mélange d’Armagnac avec du jus de raisin qui donne une boisson apéritive qui ressemble au Porto mais avec davantage de corps et de saveurs.

Pour 4 personnes : 800 gr de girolles – 1 gousse d’ail – 1 cuil à soupe d’huile d’olive – sel, poivre – 10 cl de bouillon de légumes – 30 cl environ de vin blanc sec – 5 cl d’armagnac.

Coupez le bout terreux du pied des girolles; contentez-vous de les brosser des deux côtés si elles sont propres ou passez-les rapidement sous l’eau si elles sont un peu sales. Pelez la gousse d’ail et écrasez-la au presse-ail.

Faites chauffer l’huile à feu moyen dans une poêle. Versez-y les girolles et l’ail et faites revenir rapidement en les remuant. Salez et poivrez. Mouillez avec le bouillon de légumes et portez à ébullition.

Ajoutez assez de vin blanc pour recouvrir les girolles, puis l’armagnac. Portez de nouveau à ébullition et laissez cuire 10 à 15 mn suivant la grosseur des girolles : la sauce doit avoir bien réduit.

Servez ces champignons en accompagnement d’une viande ou d’une omelette.

Si vous utilisez des girolles désséchées, il faut au préalable les faire tremper 1 heure dans de l’eau tiède.

I reached the Police station by way of Marylebone road in less than an hour, and announced myself to the desk sergeant, rubbing my hands in gleeful anticipation – if I could convince Lestrade of the merit of my findings, then we could apprehend the villain and perhaps even spare some unsuspecting soul from an excruciating end.

“Thank you Mr. Oates, if you’ll just take a seat, the inspector will be with you shortly.”

“eh? The name’s Oatenshaw, Peregrine Percival Oatenshaw”

“We have no Inspector Oatenshaw sir?”

“No, the name is Oatenshaw” I replied testily.

“I’m sorry Mr. Oates, sir, I thought you said Inspector Lestrade…”

“No!” I shouted “The name is Oatenshaw, I want to see Inspector Lestrade…”

The constable looked at me, one large hand scratching his head, pushing his cap to one side, giving him the appearance of a music hall turn, eventually he opened his mouth, closed it, then with a look of sly cunning, leaned forward across the desk.

“Now Mr. Oates, there’s no need to get excited sir, we’ll soon find your Inspector Oatenshaw.” Turning away from me, he appeared to touch his forehead with his index finger, making some curious gesture to somebody I could not see, deep inside the police station.

“Good grief man! Can’t you understand plain english?” I yelled, poking a finger deep into his serge clad chest “My name is Oatenshaw, I have come here to see Inspector Lestrade!”

I straightened up and suddenly found my arms gripped by two white coated orderlies whose presence I had not previously been aware of. I found myself being dragged at speed along the corridors, my feet unable to keep up, the toes of my shoes scraping along the floor, my spats snagging on every unseen obstacle. My impatience began to get the better of me and I started to kick up a fearful din.

“Lestrade!” I screamed, “call off these idiots immediately!”

The sound of a robust iron door being opened and I suddenly found myself weightless, hurtling through space into a darkening void. As suddenly as I had begun to analyse the situation, I was brought to a shocking halt by what I later deduced to be the police station wall. As I sank towards the floor, I heard the sound of a heavy bolt being drawn to and with that I must have lost consciousness.

I was woken by a bright light shining into my eyes, blinking owlishly, I raised a hand to ward of any further intrusions upon my dignity and was startled to hear the voice of Inspector Lestrade, as if from a considerable distance.

“Well I’ll be blowed, Oatenshaw – what in the name of god has brought you to this pretty pass?”

“Thank heavens!” I mumbled, my lip thick from the impact with the wall, “Inspector Lestrade!”

“You poor old chap” he replied jovially “wait till Holmes finds out about this!”

My heart sank at the prospect of Holmes’ supercilious and condescending manner, the relentless ribbing I would suffer, occasioned by this latest downturn in my fortunes. I could see him now, in my minds eye, murmuring reproachfully in Latin, a raised eyebrow and the hint of a cruel smile playing across his saturnine features. I groaned.

“My dear fellow,” responded Lestrade, “Are you quite sure you’re alright – why don’t you come along with me and we’ll sort this out in no time at all…”

Several hours later, I was sitting in front of a roaring coal fire in Lestrade’s quarters nursing a cup of the finest Darjeeling, a tea I find preferable to almost any other between the hours of three o’clock and four thirty – save for the possible exception of a Lapsang Souchong or even an Earl Grey. I was able to demonstrate to him the crossword puzzle, ending triumphantly in the answer “Southend Pier”

“But don’t y’see man – Moriarty is letting us know the location of these heinous crimes in advance – there’s absolutely no time to lose…”

Lestrade looked pensive for a second, his back to the fire, he rubbed his head and spoke.

“Do you mean..” he said “That Moriarty is inventing that damn puzzle in the News?”

“Precisely” I responded, helping myself to a slice of Mrs. Madison’s splendid fruit cake, “it’s quite clear that Moriarty has taken over the Evening News crossword, with the express intention of making a monkey of the forces of law and order!”

“Well it’s a damn difficult puzzle” Lestrade replied after a few seconds thought.

“For a man of my highly developed deductive powers…” I began.

“Five across, yesterday’s edition – don’t mind admitting, got the better of me!” he continued happily, seemingly oblivious to the import of my revelation.

I became dimly aware of a peculiar smell, and I dare say if my wits had been about me I would have acted rather sooner than I did. I wondered for a moment how Holmes would have responded to Lestrade’s extraordinary stupidity.

“It is devilishly cunning” I continued, taking a sip of the Darjeeling and closing my eyes in order to concentrate “..only a man of considerable and specialized knowledge would have been able to decipher his infernal mission. The fact of the matter is that the sophistry brought to bear upon this apparently innocent puzzle has turned it from a harmless pastime into a potentially lethal…Great Scott!”

Lestrade was staggering about the hearth, flames leaping up the tails of his coat – jumping to my feet I thrashed inexpertly at him with the rolled up newspaper, to little avail, succeeding only in fanning the flames to the point that the newspaper combusted – hurling the damn thing into a corner I seized the teapot and poured the contents into Lestrades collar – the flames died down and Lestrade sank exhausted into the armchair, a raised finger pointing feebly to the corner where the blaze had now spread to the newly papered walls. Calmly I rang the bell for Mrs. Madison and sank with some relief onto the ottoman. In a crisis, a calm head and decisive action are called for. The housekeeper would know what to do.

Later, as we stood outside the smoking ruin that only hours previously had been a fully functional Police Station, I turned to Lestrade, who, wrapped in a tartan blanket, looked for all the world like a romany gypsy. I passed him my flask, filled that very morning by Mrs. Miggins with a rather superior imported Armagnac and remarked

“Well Lestrade, it was deuced fortunate that I happened along, what?”

His response, as he was led away by the nurse was indistinct, but I could have sworn I picked out the word “Imbecile”. Shrugging it off as the untrammeled babbling of a mind gone haywire I reflected for a moment on the catastrophic impact that such a shock could have on even the most finely honed intelligence. Shaking my head sorrowfully, I made my way back to Baker Street, determined not to let this minor setback deflect me from the job in hand….

to be continued….

Chateau De Laubade Blanche Armagnac

Try out Chateau de Laubade’s newest endeavor, Blanche Armagnac.  You may have seen the press release earlier (AOC Blanche is Born) outlining this new premium spirit.  Now find more information about Chateau de Laubade in the pages section with links to their site. 

While Laubade’s Blanche is best served chilled as an aperitif, it is exquisite as the base for cocktails.  Two of these wonderful cocktails are below.  Find even more ideas for cocktails and recipes in the pages section under Blanche Armagnac Cocktails.  There you will also find the link to Vignobles Lesgourgues, home to Chateau de Laubade

Blanche Mojito

40 ml of Laubade Blanche (1-1/3 ounce)
20 ml of Monin’s Mojito Mint syrup (2/3 ounce)
3 quarters of lemon
8 mint leaves
Sparkling water to pour on top

Pour the fruit into the tumbler glass and muddle with syrup or sugar.  Fill with ice cubes.  Pour other alcohol / ingredients into your glass and stir.

Blanche Berry

60 ml of Cranberry Juice (2 ounces)
45 ml of Laubade Blanche (1-1/2 ounce)
10 ml of Monin’s Pomegranate Syrup (1/3 ounce)

Pour all the ingredients in a shaker filled with ice cubes.  Shake vigorously.  Pour into a cocktail glass.

Review of Chateau de Laubade’s Blanche Armagnac coming soon.

The teacup rattled in its saucer. Earl Grey slopping over the rim as Colonel Meridew Musters roared delightedly, his mirth echoing through the house. The kitchen staff, plucking fowl in preparation for dinner, smile to themselves, all’s well with the world.

“Bloody man’s dropped dead!”

A perusal of the obituary column was a traditional mainstay of a weekend at Muster’s country retreat, great amusement was to be found in accounts of the deaths of sundry despised school friends and business rivals.

Musters’ rubicund features appeared around the edge of the Times, mustaches quivering with ill suppressed hilarity.

“About bloody time! Did I tell you, Perry, about the time we took Algy for a trip to the marshes? Damn fool wouldn’t know one end of a gun from another!”

I was warming my buttocks in front of the roaring log fire in Musters’ Drawing Room. Spreading my coat tails for maximum warmth. Rising onto my toes for adjustment I shook my head, murmuring some blandishment in encouragement. My eye was taken by Marion Musters, the Colonel’s nineteen year old niece, down for the weekend from Chelsea. Algy was her fiancée. I’d been on the shoot, but that wouldn’t stop Musters. Marion caught me looking, blushed and looked hurriedly away. Chuckling, I sauntered over to the table taking care to admire myself in the mirror over the fireplace as I did so.  A touch of grey to be sure, but distinguished, adding gravitas.

“Turned up at dawn, dressed up like a blithering idiot – I’ve never seen such a sight in all my life – nearly set the dogs on him!”

“Dearest Algy,” I read, over Marion’s shoulder “It has been weeks since I wrote, I can hardly believe how time flies…”

“Damned impertinence” ranted Musters, “kept mumbling about vegetables…wouldn’t touch the kidneys…Hah! kept asking Maisy for ‘Green Tea’ have you ever heard such ruddy nonsense?”

The shoot had been dismal that morning, shaking with cold and barely kept alive by regular recourse to the flask Maisy had slipped me at breakfast. Musters had blasted away like a man possessed, birds, beaters and dogs crouched whimpering with fear as one gun was exchanged for another, the barrels too hot to hold.

“…I really must apologise for Uncle Merry’s abominable behaviour, he’s a darling really, but the accident was unfortunate, it must have hurt horribly ….”

Musters’ features had darkened as he warmed to his tale, now glowing a threatening shade of puce.

“Took him out to the marsh, the damned fool started fiddling around with a camera! I ask you! Wouldn’t touch a bloody gun!”

“..the look on your face, when you got back from the hospital though was quite priceless, I thought I was going to die laughing…”

“Well, you know what I think about photographers…damn fools the lot of ‘em!”

The Colonel. Bilious, belligerent and quite possibly barking.

“The bloody idiot went wading about in the water, next thing we knew he’s hopping about like a ruddy imbecile…”

I remembered the scene too well, freezing bloody cold, I was crouched in some godforsaken hide with Musters’ ancient, stinking spaniel, flask empty of armagnac and the prospect of two more hours untroubled by birds of any hue. I’d peered out through the early morning murk and seen Algy poncing about with a tripod, too good a chance to miss.  I’ve never laughed so hard in my life, though Algy failed to see the funny side of it, brand new breeks, blood soaked and ripped to shreds by the hail of 30 gram number 6 shot.

“Hah!”

Musters suddenly choking, Earl Grey everywhere, hands gripping the chest. Marion, on her feet like a startled deer.

“Perry do something! For God’s sake!”

I stroll casually over to the Colonel, taking my time, then hoist him upright and slipping round behind him, clasp both hands around his chest, raise him then the sudden drop, squeezing the ribcage. There is a convulsion, dentures exploding across the room, landing with a satisfactory plop in Marion’s teacup, where they lay, partially submerged, grinning vapidly back into the room. Musters coughing now, tears streaming down his cheeks, cook summoned with a curative glass of Glenmorangie, which I eagerly quaffed.

“Thank God you were here Perry, he might have died…”