Shopping with the seasons, close to home.

You’ve probably heard this admonishment before, but here it is again. We all want the foods that we eat to be tasty and nutritious, and there is no better way to accomplish this in one fell swoop than eating seasonal fruits and vegetables grown as close to your home as possible.
Is it possible to grow tomatos in Minnesota in January? Well, outdoors, no, but in a big fat greenhouse with some supplementary artificial light, and a few hundred pounds of chemical fertilizer you can grow orchids in your aunt Tilly’s wig, but I’m sure you’re asking why you would want to. And I say “right”! In much of the western world, we have come to believe that we should have, and in many cases feel entitled to, everything we want all of the time, but it has now become clear that this approach is not optimal, and perhaps not even feasible any longer.
It’s pretty common-sensical. Plant a tomato plant in late May in the perfectly receptive sandy soils of southern New Jersey. Let the natural heat, light, rain, etc. grow the plant with a relatively small expenditure of labor from the grower. Now let’s go back to Minnesota in January. Heat? Very little of the natural stuff around, so the farmer needs to provide at least enough to stop the plants from freezing to death. This equals money out of pocket plus pollution. What about the light? Well, the plant gets some in the greenhouse, but probably not enough, so that means providing artificial light. This also equals more money plus more pollution. Now the soil. One can put the finest, 100% natural soil into the greenhouse, but without contact with the rest of the ecosystem, this soil becomes depleted and/or unbalanced. The only remedy for this imbalance is artificial fertilizers which equals - guess what? - MORE money, and MORE pollution. So one would think that after all of that extra money and pollution one would wind up with an equal or perhaps even superior product. Alas, those of you who have bought tomatoes in January know that the fruit that in season nearly embodies the bounty of summer with its sweet, deep red, and juicy nature, turns out to be a mealy, dry, pale, flavorless, and hard “thing”. Why would anyone pay MORE for inferior food?
So you say “…that’s what South America is for!” Yes, it is true - Winter in the northern hemisphere is indeed Summer in the southern, and while a plum grown in Chile in August is a whole hell of a lot better than a tomato grown in a hothouse in Minnesota in January, distantly imported produce is not the solution either. There is an increasing discussion of the concept of “food miles” and this is the very concept that comes into play in this scenario. It’s again a question of energy expenditure. It takes X amount of energy to drive a load of peaches from the farms in central Georgia to the distribution center outside of Atlanta, and it takes 20X amount of energy to ship (or worse, fly!) the same peaches from Argentina to the port of Miami, and then truck that load into the city of Atlanta. And when all is said and done, the peach is less nutritious (because it had to be harvested “green” to account for ripening in transit), less flavorful (for the same reason), AND, due to the extra transportation costs, it cost more money too! Does it make sense to anyone to buy inferior products that cost more money?
So what’s the alternative? Well, it’s not a new idea, but it IS one that has always been a good one, and one that I’m not sure that we can afford to ignore any longer - BUY LOCAL PRODUCE IN SEASON! Here in New Jersey, the blueberries grown in the western and southern part of the state are KICKING right now, so now’s the time to eat blueberries until they come out of your ears! Make pies. Throw them in fruit salads. Blend them into home-made yogurt. They freeze BEAUTIFULLY - pack up a plastic container, toss them into the deep freeze, and then bust ‘em out in November when the jones for the little purple orbs is REALLY strong. I did the same with asparagus in the months preceding, and will do the same with corn come August and September….
I don’t know about where you live, but around here, farmer’s markets are all the rage, and are springing up faster than toadstools after a rain, and buying from these local farmers is good for so many reasons. First, it supports your local economy on a pure “dollars and cents” level. Second, buying from local farmers helps to reduce sprawl/preserve open space. Third, it reduces the pollution associated with getting food to market. Futher, locally grown food is tastier. Locally grown food is also more nutritious. And, Locally grown food is cheaper as well. Healthier, tastier, cheaper, and economically as well as environmentally more responsible? What’s not to like? Now I realize that for some, buying locally grown produce is difficult to near impossible, and what about all of the imported foods, wines, even WATER! Yes, these items are in no way exempt from the exigencies outlined above, but these are also items that are often unavailable locally in any way shape or form. Also, buying locally is not a limitless contest of “political correctness” or a prescription to deprive yourself of EVERYTHING that wasn’t grown less than mile from your home on a macrobiotic, biodynamic commune. No, like so many things in life, buying locally is a path, an ideal, and one that if pursued with an eye towards making a little progress every day while rejecting a rigid rejection of all things “foreign”, can improve all of our lives on multiple levels with little to no extra effort. To me It’s really just a matter of making the decision to be mindful of your place in the world and minding the responsibility that we all have to our neighbors and our straining environment. And if you can do all of that by just buying good food, why the hell wouldn’t you?
TOM CIOCCO
The Manseng Brothers - Get to know them!

You remember the Mansengs, right? Petit and Gros? They were in the same home room as Marty Malvasia and Minnie Malbec…Actually, I’m pretty sure that very few have met the Mansengs, but I think that it’s time that you did.
The two Manseng cultivars are white-berried vines that are found in one very isolated patch in the extreme southwest of France, very close to the Spanish border. The vine is often associated with the Basques, and indeed one of the appellations in which the Manseng grape makes an appearance is in the Irouleguy appellation in the French basque region with the other two being Jurancon and Pacherenc du Vic-Bilh (yes, this is spelled correctly) both just east of the French Basque. Due to the Basque association, there are also some small parcels of the Mansengs in Uruguay, a place to which many Basques emigrated in the 19th century.
The basic differences between the Gros and Petit versions of this vine are berry size and skin thickness. Intuitively, Gros Manseng produces larger berries with thinner skins. Gros Manseng lends itself to the production of dry rather than sweet wines. Its yields are quite generous, and it is, despite its thinner skin, quite disease resistant. Conversely, Petit Manseng, with smaller, thicker skinned fruit, when vinified solo, is more likely to be making a dessert wine. Though usually considered to be the “nobler” of the two, Petit Manseng, despite its thicker skins, is prone to both downy and powdery mildew as well as coulure (vine diseases). Petit Manseng, due its paucity of juice, also lends itself to late harvesting or post-harvest drying. The two sub-varieties are sometimes combined (with the Gros in the lead) to make dry wines as well.
So what’s it like in the glass? It tends to be fairly weighty even in its dry form, and the sweet versions are quite rich and viscous. The Mansengs most frequently yield flavors and aromas of tangy grapefruit, green apple, flint, white pepper, and ginger, and pair well with shellfish, spicy and pungent but not necessarily “hot” chicken dishes, and salty fare. It also goes quite well with non-western cuisines like Vietnamese, Chinese, and Indian. Wines made from Manseng are definitely not Pinot Grigios or Chardonnays - they’re a bit more “eccentric” than that, but are refreshing, though-provoking, and GREAT with food!
Presently, we’re only carrying one Manseng-based wine - a dry Jurancon. As always, please post your tasting notes for this (or any other) Manseng-based wine here if you’re so inclined…
TOM CIOCCO
A Couple of Georgian recipes…

…as promised! As I mentioned in my previous post, in my opinion, Georgian cuisine is one of the best/unknown cuisines in the world. Since my visit to Georgia in 1985, I have been fascinated with this ancient and unique culture. Just by way of a “pre-clarification” Georgia IS NOT Russia, it never was. Georgians ARE NOT Russians, they never were. The Georgian language IS NOT RELATED to Russian at all, and in fact, the only languages to which Gerogian IS related are all found within the borders of Georgia (it is part of the Kartvelian family of languages for those linguists in our midst).
One other note…The main difficulty in cooking Georgian food is locating all of the ingredients. There are some very hard-to-find ingredients that for those of you who live further from major metro areas may have trouble finding, and even those of you who do live in or near major cities may have trouble getting your hands on some of these items. When not specified, many of these spices, etc. can be obtained at a good Indian grocery…pomegranates are very seasonal (Sept. - Nov.), so to really get it all together, you may need to wait unti the fall to obtain the pomegranates.
So without further ado, here are a couple of my favorite Georgian recipes. The former dish would be served before the latter, but see my explanantion of Georgian eating patterns in the previous article. By the way, the picture above is a CLASSIC example of what a fully-laden Supra (formal Georgian feast) table looks like…if you’re ever invited to one, don’t eat AT ALL the day of the feast!
GEORGIAN STUFFED EGGPLANTS
4 “Japanese” eggplants (the long, skinny, purple and white ones)
1 heaping cup of shelled walnuts
1 large clove of garlic
1/4 cup of chopped cilantro
1/4 cup of chopped basil
1/4 cup of celery tops (leaves)
1 teaspoon of ground coriander seeds
1 teaspoon of fenugreek leaves, crumbled (called kasoor methi in Indian markets)
1 teaspoon of ground marigold petals (yes, marigold petals. It functions the same way as turmeric or saffron. Sold under name “calendula” in good health food stores)
1/2 teaspoon of hot Hungarian paprika
1 small pomegranate
- Slice the eggplants lengthwise. Heat 1 tablespoon of olive or sunflower oil in a skillet over medium heat.
- Place the eggplants, cut side down, in the pan and then cover. Cook for about 10-12 minutes (check them - the flesh should be browned, but obviously not burned) This method fries and steams the eggplants simultaneously. When done, remove from pan, and let cool. Do not overcook the eggplants - they should be soft, but still be able to hold their shape.
- Put the walnuts and the garlic clove into a food processor. Turn on the machine and let run until the walnuts begin to express their oil - you’re “there” when the mixture begins to turn into a brown paste. You probably will need to scrape down the bowl to assure that all of the walnuts have been pulverized.
- When the paste is obtained, and while the machine is still running, SLOWLY dribble in a thin stream of water. The paste will whiten and fluff up. Add enough water to obtain the consistency of a dense mayonnaise.
- Turn out the walnut paste into a glass bowl. Add the rest of the ingredients except the pomegranate, mix, salt to taste, and set aside.
- Take the now cooled eggplants, and with either your index finger or the round edge of the spoon, open a “trough” in the now very soft pulp of the cut side.
- Fill this “trough” with the paste. Now, cut up your pomegranate, and get together a decent handful of the seeds (no yellow pith please!) and stud the filled eggplants with a line of pomegrante seeds.
- Cover and let rest for a few hours. Serve at room temperature.
This second recipe comes from Gourmet Magazine. It is a very good recipe, and is also quite authentic. In fact, when I was invited to an acquaintance’s house for dinner in Tbilisi in 1985, this certain gentleman’s lovely wife made this dish (amongst many others). Please note the accompanying, linked “sub-recipes” and accompaniments that adjoin the main recipe - they really enhance the overall experience.
And, just as a reminder, here are the Georgian wines that I linked to in the previous piece. If anyone makes the recipes, with or without the wines (hopefully with!) please give a little review!
TOM CIOCCO
Georgia - The Cradle of Wine?

No not as in Atlanta and Macon, but rather Tbilisi and Telavi. The ancient nation of Georgia, hidden within the deepest folds of the Caucasus mountains at the crossroads of east and west (and north and south for that matter) is most often cited as the birthplace of wine, or at least the place that it learned to crawl. Other scholars point to neighboring nations like Armenia and Iran as other possible locations for the original red or white, though the level of archeological evidence found in Gerogia is so thick that it seems more than a safe hypothesis that Georgia was the THE birthplace. Sites dated to between 2000 BC - 3000 BC in Mtskheta, Pitsunda, Trialeti and other places have turned up a bevy of artifacts that were used in, or make reference to winemaking: clay pots crusted with grape seeds, hooked pruning knives, metal drinking vessels, and even jewelery depicting bunches of grapes, and intertwined vines. Even the Georgian name for wine - gvino - seems to indicate that even the name of this greatest of beverages may have been borrowed by the Romans directly from the Georgians.
And the fact that winemaking survives and thrives in contemporary Gerogia is no small feat. Georgia now, and for hundreds of years in the past has been surrounded by larger, hostile, and non-winedrinking cultures like the Arabs, Turks, and Persians. These three military juggernauts have taken turns trampling their wine-making neighbor (Georgia’s capitol Tbilisi has been burned to the ground no less than 19 times!) and with each invasion winemaking took it directly on the chin. But the Georgians being the tenacious, indomitable people that they are have always managed somehow to drive out their dominators, or least wait them out. The picture above is of “Mother Georgia” (Kartlis Deda in Gerogian) who directly offers a bowl of wine to Georgia’s friends, and just as clearly a sword to her enemies!
The lion’s share of wine made in Georgia (about 70%) comes from the sunny and dry eastern province of Kakheti that is itself divided into 25 distinct sub-zones. Some of the other more important wine growing areas in Georgia are found in Kartli (also in eastern Georgia) and in Imereti and Racha-Lechkhumi in the hotter and more humid regions of western Georgia. Like Italy and Portugal, Georgia is famous for its great wealth of native varieties (over 500 and still counting), VERY few of which are found anywhere outside of Georgia (though the white-berried Rkatsiteli variety is shockingly one of the most widely planted white variety in the world!).
As money and technology continue to build within the Georgian wine industry, “modern” winemaking techniques have begun to gain ascendence, but traditional Gerogian winemaking still thrives, and is worth a mention. Traditional Gerogian wines are vinified in HUGE (well big enough to stand inside of), pointy-bottomed terra cotta jugs called kvevri . These huge vessels are buried up to their necks in the earth, are then lidded, and then a small hut is built over the spot. Traditional fermentation was/is effected spontaneously via wild airborne yeasts, and there is no separation of must/seeds/stems/skins at any point in the process. After pressing, EVERYTHING goes into the kvevri. And if not for the softening effects of the terra cotta material, wine made in this manner would produce a wine so tannic that it would take decades for them to soften enough to be enjoyable. The finished wine is removed from the kvevri via long, oversized ladles.
Georgian patterns of wine consumption are also worth noting. Georgians drink wine every day just like their wine-drinking bretheren in Southern and Western Europe, and like most wine cultures, the beverage holds a place above that of any other, and a certain extra measure of reverence is accorded to it by virtue of that fact. The average Georgian can and does put away more than his or her share of wine, but obvious and/or obtrusive drunkenness is frowned upon even though the traditional Georgian drinking vessel is made from silver-trimmed ox horns whose shape clearly makes it difficult to set down unless it has been fully drained!
And this brings us to the Supra, and its head the Tamada (ta ma DAH). The supra is a traditional Gerogian feast that is usually prepared for an honored guest (the Georgians’ propensity for nearly embarassing levels of hospitality is legendary), and especially if there is a foreign visitor. There is a saying in Georgian that “A guest is a gift from God”…The Supra involves nearly obscene amounts food that is brought out in waves without having cleared the still partially filled dishes from the previous courses to create a sort of ever-increasing bounty effect. Throughout the development of a Supra, which can easily last 4 or 5 hours, the Tamada (toastmaster) is a sort of emcee/facilitator for the whole affair. The actual protocol for a Tamada at the Supra is very complex, but essentially the Tamada (usually the oldest male present) proposes a series of toasts to the guest(s) who in turn praises and thanks the Tamada and then proposes a toast in praise of Georgia, the supra’s hosts, etc. Others, with the Tamada’s permission may propose toasts, and from this aspect, another set of rules and protocols come into play. One of the Tamada’s most important jobs at the Supra is to assure that everyone is enjoying him or herself, and that everyone is enjoying the euphoric benefits of wine drinking without becoming obnoxiously drunk. A good Tamada keeps an eye on all of his guests, and can and will (temporarily) cut people off if he deems that they are becoming too drunk to enjoy the food or are beginning to annoy the other guests. And at some point in the proceedings, out come the songs! The Georgians boast a unique and sophisticated singing culture (the only place with vocal polyphony outside of Western Europe) and as the food and drink at the Supra really begin to flow, so do the songs, often with the entire table locking arms and belting out the exotic a capella singing style for which Georgia is famous.
So that’s my primer on the (likely) birthplace of wine. If you couldn’t tell, I am a real “Georgiaphile”, and I hope to post a Gerogian recipe or two later this week that will pair perfectly with the Gerogian wines I’ve linked to below. Georgian cuisine is WONDERFUL - in my opinion, of the best “undiscovered” cuisines in the world…check back in a few days…
TOM CIOCCO
In Praise of the “Fantasy Blend”

Those of you who know me personally, or sell to, or buy wine from The Wine Library, know that I’m a stickler for tradition. Just take a look at the Italian section. I have zero Chardonnays. ZERO. The Portuguese section has no Cabernet Sauvignons or Syrahs. None. As they say in Italian Pane al pane, vino al vino (which roughly translates to “Don’t confuse apples with oranges”), and by this I mean that Italy and Portugal should stick to what they do best, because what they do best is the result of hundreds or even thousands of years of both natural as well as man-made selection and modification of vine varieties, vineyard sites, cellar techniques, etc. Why would anyone take one’s history and just throw it all away? To me, it’s just an attempt to re-invent the wheel.
To use a negative example, what would you want with a hydroponically-grown, genetically engineered strawberry from an experimental “garden” on a space station, if you could go out into your own backyard, and pick the freshest, sweetest ones that you’ve grown for yourself? This goes for food combinations as well - asparagus and eggs, chocolate and peanut butter, pork and apples - it took humankind many centuries to find, test, and re-test these pairings, and finally decide that “This rocks!” Basically, for me, tradition is not so much a blind adherence to an arbitrary rule, or a set of rules, but rather a well studied and tested patrimony that reflects generations of experimentation, progress, and even failure.
BUT, lest I be accused of being a reactionary, let me state clearly that I am in no way opposed to experimentation and innovation, but if you’re gonna innovate, really INNOVATE! Sure, the winemaker has to know that this or that non-traditional variety will or will not work in his or her vineyards, but once this is established, my prescription is to turn your back on the market fashions (most UN-like all of the folks who planted Pinot Noir in California to follow the surge in popularity of Pinot Noir, and many of whom, once the fad passes, will rip the PN up only to re-plant the latest “flavor of the month” variety) and plant varieties that YOU (the winemaker) think will blend well, and that will best show off your terroir, or even ones that you just kinda like, NOT what this or that consultant THINKS that the market wants, or taking up the latest fashion, or worse, someone else’s true innovation from the other side of the globe.
So here below are a bunch of examples of what I mean. The following wines are either TOTALLY “outside the box” blends, or combine tradition with innovation. I’ve chosen these items because they’re what I had physically had at hand to illustrate my point, but I want to be clear here that I am not necessarily endorsing all of these wines as THE shining examples of the ” successful fantasy blend”. There are definitely many MORE examples of this approach to winemaking, and probably some even BETTER ones than I have listed here. That being said, I encourage the readers to post his or her own examples of REAL innovation in contemporary winemaking. As always, post tasting notes for these or any other such wines here as comments.
TOM CIOCCO
Mas De Daumas Gassac Blanc 2005
This might be the QUINTESSENTIAL example of the “fantasy blend”: equal parts Chardonnay, Viognier, Gros Manseng, and Chenin Blanc from the Languedoc (none of these varieties are native to this area)!
Jermann Vintage Tunina 2004
This Italian white blends traditional Friulano varieites (Ribolla Gialla, Malvasia Istriana, and Picolit) that are usually vinified separately (and Picolit is nearly ALWAYS used to make sweet wine) with Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc.
Pine Ridge White 2006
A Chenin Blanc/Viognier blend from California? - now that’s what I’m talking about!
Coturri Albarello Red 2004
Check this one out - this unusual red even has a couple of drops of white grape varieties!
D’Arenberg Stump Jump White 2006
A blend of Sauvignon Blanc, Riesling, Roussanne, and Marsanne form Australia
