Grubtrotters

Flora Springs 2005 Trilogy from Napa Valley is our wine pick of the day. I had an opportunity to sample half a dozen Flora Springs wines at a dinner hosted by the third-generation, family-owned winery at Wilshire, one of my favorite Santa Monica restaurants, back in March.

The 2005 Trilogy is a Meritage blend of traditional Bordeaux varietals, 66% Cabernet Sauvignon, 23% Merlot, 7% Cabernet Franc and 4% Malbec mainly from the Komes Ranch estate vineyards surrounding the winery. The wine spent 22 months in new French oak barrels, and it’s wonderfully rich, full-bodied and balanced.

The best wine of the night was actually the 1996 Trilogy, but that one is a lot harder and more expensive to get your hands on at this point. The ‘05 Trilogy retails for $65, but I found it offered online for as little as $39.99.

The family behind Flora Springs owns 650 acres of vineyards in Napa Valley, a total of 10 vineyards in five appellations: Rutherford, St. Helena, Oakville and Carneros. All the vineyards are sustainable, and 20% are certified organic, with another 240 acres to be certified this year. A full 90% of the grapes used in the Flora Springs red wines are from organic vineyards. That means no spraying of harmful chemicals. Instead, they use natural methods such as cover crops, hawks and owls to control problems such as pests.

A quick summary of our dinner to whet your palate: We started with a delicate hamachi seasoned with ponzu and wasabi, which was paired with Flora Springs 2007 Soliloquy Sauvignon Blanc. That was followed by ricotta gnocchi with hedgehog mushrooms, Cippolini onions and chestnuts, which we enjoyed with the 2007 barrel fermented Chardonnay. For our third course, we savored a rich and delicious Moroccan spiced lamb stew with fregola sarda (a healthy pasta from Sardinia), cauliflower, piquillo pepper harissa (a hot sauce) and banana raita (a cool, yogurt-based sauce). This dish was accompanied by the 2006 Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon. And finally, we sipped the ‘96, ‘99 and ‘06 Trilogy wines with some artisinal cheeses before capping off the evening with a dessert of pain perdu with meyer lemon, huckleberries, port reduction and vanilla ice cream. Yum. — Jenny

My wine pick of the day is Rocca Family Vineyards’ 2001 Cabernet Sauvignon, made from organic, estate-grown grapes in Yountville, Napa Valley. This was Rocca’s first Cabernet, and it was just re-released. You can purchase it directly from Rocca for $85, but the supply is limited so there’s a three-bottle limit. Having tasted this wine, I suspect it will go fast despite the price. I recently had the opportunity to meet the owners of Rocca Family Vineyards at a Campinile wine pairing dinner hosted by Mary Rocca, formerly a dentist, and her husband Eric Grigsby, a renowned specialist in pain management. (No, he doesn’t manage peoples’ pain with his wine, although I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt.)

While it’s probably unfair to compare wines when you’re not tasting them side-by-side in a blind tasting, I also attended a special Opus One wine dinner at Whist a couple months ago, and Rocca’s wines hold up against (and even surpass) some of the excellent Opus One cult wines I tasted. I’m not the only one who thinks so, either. A couple of vintages of Rocca’s Cabernets have placed first in blind tasting competitions against some pretty heavy hitters in San Francisco and France.

The ‘01 Cabernet (with 22% Merlot) was blended by winemaker Celia Welch Masyczek. After six years of bottle age, it’s smooth, complex and elegant — a very yummy, drinkable wine. Campinile paired it with sauteed trenne pasta that was crispy and had the look of French fries, as well as beef bolognese, peacock kale and Parmesan. I also enjoyed their earthy 2005 Syrah ($45), which was paired with rabbit sausage, beluga lentils, apples and pea tendrils. Delicious. Napa may not be known for Syrah, but Rocca proves it can be done quite well. Their new winemaker, Paul Colantuoni, a young hipster and Princeton grad who majored in molecular biology and Italian, is a big fan of Syrah so expect to see more of it in the future.

Our third course was a sage and rosemary crusted slices prime rib with creamy, cheesy aligot potatoes, paired with Rocca’s silky 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon ($75). Aged in small French oak barrels for 20 months, the wine is 81% Cabernet Sauvignon, 15% Merlot and 4% Perdit Verdot. Smooth, smooth, smooth. If you can’t get the ‘01 Cabernet, buy this one. I wasn’t quite as impressed with Rocca’s ‘06 Bad Boy Red ($32), except for the hot cowboy on the label, who I learned was Grigsby himself. The Cabernet, Cab Franc and Petit Verdot blend is big and fruity and lacks some of the elegance and complexity of the other wines we tasted. But you might not notice if you’re not drinking them side-by-side, and the price is certainly right.

Grigsby and Rocca also run a foundation training doctors in Malawi, where 20% of the population has AIDS. They help doctors there provide palliative care at the end of life. So while you may be drinking something called Bad Boy, you can feel warm and fuzzy knowing your money went to some good folks who are spreading the love. I’m so grateful I got the chance to meet them. — Jenny

Vic and I finally checked out the newest hot spot on Abbot Kinney in Venice, Gjelina, which opened over the summer. We walked in without a reservation at 7 p.m. on a recent weeknight and had no trouble snagging a seat the the communal table. (If we had arrived an hour later, we would have been among the masses hovering behind us… waiting.) I enjoyed the rustic communal table because we actually got a chance to meet and mingle with some of our neighbors. In fact, the couple sitting next to us offered us a slice of their gruyere, arugula and carmelized onion pizza, which was delicious. Not Mozza delicious, mind you, but tasty nonetheless. “Very French onion soupy,” as Vic put it.

In fact, everything we tried at Gjelina was satisfying, and I loved the experience of the place almost as much as the food. It was full of artists, casual chic Venice hipsters, even a couple families with kids. One of the guys down at the other end of the communal table compared it to AOC. It reminded me of being in New York. A real neighborhood spot. The design of the place is gorgeous. The floor is made of brick, while the ceiling is reclaimed wood from a barn. The walls are painted and decorated with a delicate, laser-etched design. There’s a beautiful back patio with a fire pit and a window onto the kitchen. Next to that is a tiny nook of a lounge with a lamp made from wine bottles. Even the bathroom fixtures are cool. Guys behind the bar chop vegetables plucked fresh that day from the farmer’s market and make salads beneath an unusual lamp featuring an variety of odd-sized lightbulbs. The restaurant is mainly lit by candles in the evening, giving it a nice glow.

We started with a bottle of organic French Syrah, a Chateau Messiac Minervois from 2006. At $42, it was actually the least expensive bottle on the list. The only bottle they offered for less ($38) was sold out. In this economy, they really should have a few more affordable bottles (and glasses) for those who have seen their 401Ks cut in half. The restaurant is still doing such a brisk business, they probably don’t feel the need to cut anyone a break. (Note to Gjelina, it’s tough to stay the hot spot forever. We’re in an economic crisis, dammit. Wake up, and help us out a little, here.)

For dinner we ordered the grilled raddichio, bacon, fontina and tomato confit pizza from the wood-burning oven. A guy sitting at the far end of our communal table described it as “a saltine of a pizza,” and I must admit, it did have an impossibly thin crust. I could practically see through it, and I suspect that even the strictest low-carb dieter could eat this pizza. It was served with a side plate containing small piles of crushed red pepper, grated Parmesan cheese and dried oregano. The flavor was wonderfully smoky, both from the bacon and the wood-burning oven. (Beware: The couple sitting next to us mistook a woodchip from the embers that made its way onto their plate for a French fry and bit into it.)

Vic and I also shared the Sonoma duck leg confit with cavalo nero, lentils and currant vinegar. The duck was sweet and juicy and the lentils quite vinegary. It was an unusual combination, but it worked. When we finished, Vic was still hungry so he tried to flag down the waitress to order more. By then, the place was so packed that it took at least 10 minutes to find her. We capped off the evening with Jidori chicken livers and onions on grilled bread. It’s not the traditional way to end a meal, but Vic is carniverous and needed a little more meat on his bones. He actually grew up eating liver and onions, and while I find chicken liver a little mealy, he gave the dish — and the entire evening — a big thumbs up.

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We made our way back for a second Gjelina visit last week, when my parents were in town. This time, our group of six arrived even earlier and took over most of the communal table. My sister looked at the menu and complained that there wasn’t a single item except the pizza that contained a word she didn’t know. Pretentious, was her thought. Personally, I don’t mind an interesting menu because I like to ask questions and learn something new. But she does have a point. There’s also no sign outside the restaurant, which always seems pretentious to me.

Starting with the charcuterie plate (pictured above), we enjoyed duck prosciutto, sweet soppresatta and bresaola that were all so thinly sliced, they melted on your tongue. Split between six people, the portions could have been more substantial, although we ordered so much it didn’t matter. We followed that with a divine salad of arugula with marinated tomato, bacon and ricotta salata. All I can say is, yum. This is not your typical skinny gal salad. Next we tried three more pizzas: a margherita with gioia mozzarella and burrata, another with mushroom, goat cheese and truffle oil, and finally one with lamb sausage, zucchini, tomato, asiago and pecorino. Mom’s clear favorite was the mushroom (pictured below), although I thought the smell of truffle oil was so overwhelming that the taste was almost a letdown compared to the scent. The lamb sausage was my top pick, and Vic chose the margherita. So you pretty much can’t go wrong with the pizzas.

On to the vegetable section of the menu, the braised collard greens with smoked tomato were too salty for Mom, although just right for someone with a salt tooth like myself. In fact, on the second visit to Gjelina, I realized one of the reasons I liked the place so much is that almost every dish is finished with a liberal dash of sea salt. The grilled raddichio with balsamic and sea salt was a smoky, salty winner all around. Even our decadent butterscotch pots de creme for dessert had sea salt on top to cut what otherwise would have been a cloying degree of sweetness. For those who are salt sensitive, prepare for swollen ankles.

My sister’s favorite dish of the night was the roasted beets with greens, walnut oil and goat cheese — pungent and vinegary. My father and my sister’s boyfriend voted for the PEI mussels (tiny, but nice and plump) with chorizo, tomato, white wine and grilled bread. The dish had a garlicky bite, and again, the flavor combinations were a little odd, but that wasn’t a bad thing. I also enjoyed the wood roasted brandade — one of those pesky words that needed an explanation. It was basically a salt cod dip with cream and potato whose flavor the waiter described as similar to clam chowder. This comfort food dish was a bit heavy for some on Thanksgiving week, but I enjoy anything that’s the food equivalent of a soft blanket. We washed it all down with a 2005 Red Rhone and capped off the evening with a cranberry apple tartin that had firm chunks of fresh fruit. Not too cooked and not too sweet.

I’d be remiss not to mention that my mother thought our server was extremely appealing.  “Did you get a look at our waiter?” she asked halfway through the evening. “Soooo cute!”

“I didn’t think he was so cute,” my Dad huffed. Nevertheless, we all walked out feeling fat and happy. – Jenny

Gjelina, 1429 Abbot Kinney Blvd., 310-450-1429

You may have noticed I have been missing in action for much of the summer. That’s because I just returned to L.A. from a five-week teaching gig at Northwestern University in Evanston. Make that five weeks of sheer food hell. I was forced to eat most of my meals in the 1835 Hinman cafeteria with 88 teenagers who promptly labeled the place “Nastytown.” I have been teaching at the same summer program for the past seven years, but never before have I experienced such a culinary Death Valley. The program has a soft spot in my heart because it’s where Victor and I met. This was the first year that his job prevented him from joining me, which didn’t help matters. I just couldn’t bear writing about the horror show until I knew it was over.

Of course, I did complain about the sub-par chow the first week, and the new Hinman chef and his bosses at Sodexo provided a lame excuse. They told me a “rogue chef” had been at the helm in prior years. His crime? “He tried to make the food too good,” they said. Believe me, this so-called rogue chef was no Thomas Keller, but, apparently, people forced to eat at other cafeterias complained. So instead of raising standards elsewhere, they lowered them at Hinman. Bureaucratic brilliance at its best.

The entrees for lunch one day looked like a menu for a C-rated restaurant called Carbotopia: potato burritos, corn dogs, popcorn, cauliflower and Mexican rice. That was it. The only green vegetable was in a bowl on display amidst this carbo-loading wasteland. A week later, I actually had to call the Evanston Health Department after finding bugs crawling on my breakfast berries. (My apologies to those who just lost their appetites.) Northwestern officials weren’t too happy with me for going “outside the system” to complain. So I told them, “Surely you aren’t opposed to any effort to protect the health and safety 88 minors?” Needless to say, that was my last breakfast at Hinman. They reimbursed me for the unused portion of my meal plan and let me eat elsewhere.

I’d like to thank a handful of Evanston restaurants that helped me through this culinary abyss. Evanston, the suburb on Chicago’s northern border, is not exactly a foodie haven — at least not since Grant Achatz left Trio to start Alinea. But there are a few down-home joints that seemed like nirvana compared to what I had been enduring.

Olive Mountain: This unassuming Middle Eastern restaurant is an old favorite. It has some of the tastiest hummus I have tried in a while — loaded with olive oil, sumac, parsley and spicy lemon juice on top. I can also recommend the pureed lentil soup, the couscous salad packed with veggies, and the combo platter of kifta kabobs, beef and shish taouk with vegetables and yellow Middle Eastern rice. Don’t expect much in the way of atmosphere. There’s a cheesy chandelier and pink and aqua tables. But the service is terrific. The staff is friendly and attentive, and the food is delicious, unpretentious and cheap. Lunch specials are $5.95 to $8.25 for an entree, beverage and your choice of hummus, falafel, Lebanese salad or soup.

Joy Yee’s: Having lived in L.A. for more than a decade, I was a little skeptical about trying Asian food in Evanston — especially at a restaurant that featured Japanese, Chinese, Thai and Korean dishes. But Larry Yee (no relation), a Chinese student from San Francisco who attended the program last year, had raved about it, and I was seriously jonesing for some noodles. Plus, Joy Yee’s had just reopened after a long renovation and was filled with Asian diners when I walked by. The walls were painted bright yellow, and the modern, web-like plastic chairs were not exactly inviting, but it turned out to be a perfect lunch spot. The menu read like a novel. I finally settled on some Udon noodle soup with soft shell scrab. The crab batter was a bit thick for my taste, but the soup came in a huge bowl with fresh bok choy, carrots and mushrooms. The noodles were thick and slippery. The broth was delicious.  It really hit the spot. (Later in the month, when I ordered the same soup for delivery late at night, the broth was overly salty. Perhaps it had been sitting too long.) I also tried the lemongrass chicken and noodles, which was served with green peppers. Solid dish, but nothing to write home about. My favorite discovery, however, was the fresh fruit smoothies, served with tapioca balls. The smoothies were amazing. I tried multiple combinations of mango, lychee, strawberries, coconut and bananas. They’re served at a counter with shimmering rainbow tiles. Maybe the name carries the power of suggestion, but Joy Yee’s really did make me happy.

Union Pizzeria: This new place is a bit out of place in Evanston. Or perhaps it’s a sign of the “new” Evanton — home to skyscraper condos and loads of yuppies. Union has a decidedly urban feel with a large warehouse space, exposed brick walls, high ceilings, chic hanging light fixtures over the bar and modern couches in the lounge. If you live in Chicago, Union is probably not worth the drive, but for Evanston, it’s nice to have a place that could be at home in LA or New York, too. There’s a wood-burning oven that serves nine different pizzas. I tried most of them and can recommend the sausage, sweet pepper, onion and Sicilian oregano, as well as the mushroom with bechamel, fontina and sage. The pizzas don’t rival the ones in Rome or at Mozza. But it’s a really nice change from the huge quiche-like, Chicago-style pies from Giordano’s. The Baccala of pureed salt cod, potato, cream and garlic was sinfully rich. And for health nuts, the white wine-braised Tuscan kale is also a winner. Service can be really slow, but there’s a strong beer and wine list, and this is a nice place to chill for a glass at the start or end of an evening. It is open late, at least by Evanston standards. The Women’s Christian Temperance Union was founded there, and Evanston was a “dry” until the 70s. So Union is certainly a sign of progress.

Despite these bright spots, I have probably never been so happy to be home. — Jenny

Wine: Bodega Melipal Malbec.

Year: 2005.

Country: Argentina (Mendoza region).

Price: Under $20. Tremendous value.

Notes: Fruity (blackberry) and robust (coffee). We were sorry we only picked up one bottle, a mistake that will quickly be rectified. We enjoyed this wine with baked red snapper in a creole sauce. Lots of bold flavors all paddling in the same direction.

Available: We have seen it at BevMo and the Los Angeles Wine Company.

Site: www.bodegamelipal.com/english/index.htm