Broughton Quarterly - Fall 2007 - (Page 16) wine & cuisine Cork Jester WHAT ZiN A NAME? America’s grape. Kind of. Not really W { Jennifer Rosen } Winner of a James Beard Award for wine writing, Jennifer Rosen is the author of, Waiter, There’s a Horse in My Wine, and The Cork Jester’s Guide to Wine, both winners of The Gourmand World Cookbook Award for Wine Literature. Read her columns and sign up for her weekly newsletter at www.CorkJester.com. hole books have been written about the mysterious origins of the Zinfandel grape, the only varietal considered unique to America. Sure there are native Americans, such as Concord grapes, but those are eating-grapes, belonging mostly to the species labrusca. The grapes that go into real wines are all of the species vinifera. Including Zinfandel. And they all originated in the Old World. The idea of such a European-style grape as Zinfandel originating in American struck scientists as suspicious. Zinfandel appears in American writing as early as 1820. By the time the first wine boom swept California in the 1880s, no grape was more widely planted in America. Valiantly resisting both pestilence and Prohibition (Zin was popular with home-winemakers, the only ones allowed to continue production), some Zin vines are among the oldest living grape producers in the world, making it possible to literally drink the Zins of our fathers. Let’s talk for a moment about white Zin. It’s made from the pale insides of the grape, with no red-skin contact. It may seem a travesty, and certainly did corrupt the Z word, but it has proved a boon: It spared the life of those centenarian vines, which might have been ripped up and replanted to a trendier red. Sophisticated drinkers are back to drinking their Zin red, once again making it the most ubiquitous grape in America. But…American? In 1967, a Californian enologist, strolling through a vineyard in Italy, thought the Primitivo grapes looked awfully familiar. A few scientific studies later it was confirmed that Italian Primitivo and American Zinfandel were genetically identical. Recent research has pointed to a probable Croatian ancestor to both grapes. What likely happened was that some Balkan peasant brought cuttings to Austria, whence they migrated to Italy, to become Primitivo, and to America. Hence the Germanic name, Zinfandel. But wherever the grape came from, the wine is truly our own. Bordeaux is the benchmark that Cabernet crafters strive for, and Riesling looks over its shoulder to Alsace and Germany. Port should taste like Portugal, and Champagne, well… duh. But Zinfandel has no Old World precedent, so Americans feel free to do whatever they want with it. Consequently, it’s been made in every style conceivable. It can be a spicy, highly-alcoholic table red. It makes an excellent late harvest dessert wine. There’s the infamous fizzy, pink white Zinfandel, and even a clear Grappa. Because the grape clusters ripen unevenly, consistency has been a problem. But winemakers are taming this talented grape and offering complex single-vineyard wines as well as sophisticated blends. If you’re not already an enthusiast, this is a great time to explore red Zinfandel. And be proud you’re drinking something as American as apple… Q strudel. RESTAURANT REViEW The Hungry Cat 1134 Chapala St., Santa Barbara, 805.884.4701 One would expect a coastal Shangri-la like Santa Barbara to be brimming with modernist seafood restaurants, places where the smart set washes down littleneck clams on the half shell with specialty cocktails made with candied grapefruit. And in this idealized perception, a contemporary urban room would replace the ship’s wheel and captain’s hat fandangle of oceanfront tourist traps. But, alas, creative seafood has been sorely lacking on the American Riviera. Enter The Hungry Cat: downtown Santa Barbara’s newest hot table, where inventiveness shares the stage with purity. Hip but not vainglorious, the restaurant offers a neat balance of shellfish in its purest form—freshly cracked and served raw—and refashioned into such unique culinary gems as braised clams with house-made chorizo. Anomalous combos like corn and bay scallop chowder with bacon and cavolo nero render masterworks of contrasting flavors. For purists, the rawbar, which looks into an open kitchen, boasts a selection of oysters, from the sweet Rappahannock River oyster to local varieties. A number of caviar selections are on hand as well: The Mississippi paddlefish variety is robust and creamy, while the North Carolina trout caviar has a slightly crunchy texture and barely a hint of fishiness. The Santa Barbara location essentially follows the model of the original Hollywood restaurant, but chef de cuisine Dylan Fultineer puts his own spin on the menu. Celebrate the region with local Santa Barbara Channel sea urchin or whole grilled Morro Bay rock cod with market vegetables and mojo de ajo. Specialty cocktails made with freshly squeezed juices (the bar is adorned with blood oranges, tangerines, kumquats, and grapefruits) add to the restaurant’s appeal, and the room tends to be packed. But if there’s space on your table, don’t miss the grand plateau: a selection of oysters, clams, shrimp, escolar ceviche, caviar, king crab legs, and live sea urchin that’ll have you purring like a…well, you know. – Matt Katz 16 Broughton Quarterly Fall 2007 http://www.CorkJester.com
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