A Hedonist in the Cellar_ Adventures in Wine - Jay McInerney [61]
The iconographers of the vast right-wing conspiracy have demonized white wine as the drink of the effete Martha’s Vineyard liberal elite; even self-professed wine enthusiasts like myself often regard white wine as, at best, foreplay, much the way some carnivorous gourmands have regarded fish—as mere prelude to the crimson climax of the menu. Poor misguided bastards. They’ve probably never eaten at Le Bernardin, never experienced the electric epiphany of Ripert’s meaty steamed wild striped bass with a pineapple-lime nage, paired with a racy, stony 1985 Ampeau Meursault Les Per-rières. Wimpy? I think not. Just about the only thing more exciting than experiencing this epiphany in the serene dining room of Le Bernardin—a cross between a Zen teahouse in Kyoto and a teak-lined corporate boardroom—is fighting a big striper on a fly rod while standing on the deck of a skiff in eight-foot swells.
The simple fact is that eight out of ten sea creatures prefer white wine to red, in part because the bright acidity of white wine acts like lemon juice in highlighting the flavor, particularly of white-fleshed fish. “Some people say white wine is boring,” Couvreux marvels, a look of boyish astonishment on his face. “This is simply not true. The purity, the complexity, the minerality of great white wine…” He shrugs Gallically, rubbing what is left of his dark hair as if to say, What more can one say?
If Couvreux, who was sommelier at three-star L’Arpège in Paris, were limited to one wine for all fish, it would undoubtedly be white Burgundy. “Puligny-Montrachet, Chassagne-Montrachet, and Mersault,” he says, “account for almost half of our sales.” For all the Asian spices, and the Spanish influence of Ripert’s childhood in Andorra, this is a French restaurant, after all. And the fact is, the complex, neurasthenic Chardonnays of the Côte d’Or, with their subtle fruit, their racy acidity, and their trilling minerality, are about as fish-friendly as any wine in the world. At Le Bernardin, you can get a 2001 Chassagne from Michel Niellon for $125, or a ′92 Montrachet from Etienne Sauzet for $1,000 (not bad for one of the greatest makers and one of the greatest vintages of the greatest white vineyard in the world). Couvreux generally reserves the big, buxom New World Chardonnays for lobster: “With its rich texture and its heavy, almost meaty flavor, lobster can stand up to the fruit and the oak of wines like Kistler Les Noisetiers or Peter Michael.”
In the eight years that he has been the sommelier at Le Bernardin, Couvreux has developed some rules of thumb that can be applied in the real world, for those of us who, unlike a corporate lawyer of my acquaintance, can’t manage to dine daily at Le Bernardin. Most important, what I call the lover/ fighter rule: “Sometimes you want the wine to match the food, or the sauce, and sometimes the wine must stand up to the food. Zey must challenge each ozer; zey must fight.” For example, in the latter category, Couvreux likes to offset heat with sweetness, as when he pairs Ripert’s hamachi tartare with wasabi and a ginger-coriander emulsion with a 2003 Chateau Ste. Michelle Eroica Riesling from Washington State. “With spicy dishes I like Riesling with a little residual sweetness. The sugar balances out and fights the spices.”
When fish is served in richer sauces, Couvreux concentrates on matching the flavor and texture of the sauce, as with Ripert’s poached halibut with a lobster cardamom emulsion, which he pairs with a rich, floral-scented, almost oily Condrieu La Doriane from Guigal. Condrieu, made from the fragrant, glycerol-rich Viognier grape, is one of his secret weapons. For those who still yearn for red wines, heavier sauces