Prepping for the growing season
Category: Aconcagua winemakingWe’ve done a lot of work in our little Tempranillo vineyard this year. In addition to radically changing our pruning system, we brought in a team to plow the soil in preparation for the growing season. This being rural Chile, the team involved a horse. I’m not sure how you would even do this in California–the vineyard is too small to merit bringing in a tractor, and for that matter there isn’t access for one if you did want to bring it in. When I had my vegetable garden plowed a few years ago, there was one man driving the horse with long reins, as I’d expected. This time, there was one man operating the plow and a second guy riding the horse, thus:
This allowed them to be very precise in their work. I was quite impressed to find that not one of my garden plants got trampled (which was not the case with my vegetable garden). They didn’t plow down the middle of the row, but rather right next to the vines on both sides of the plant, leaving an unplowed strip down the middle of the row. The goal here was to pile up the dirt around the plants, thereby deepening the root zone.
They also spread out fertilizer beforehand, which was then turned over into the soil during the plowing. Here’s a close-up of the old-fashioned plow, followed by a pose from the handsome boy who did the heavy pulling (and most likely provided the fertilizer). Note the cord tied to the horse’s foreleg–he was hobbled while waiting for the work to begin.
Monkey puzzle gnocchi
Category: Jen's kitchenOne distinctly Chilean food is piñones, usually translated as pine nuts. They aren’t from pine trees, however, but rather the Araucaria, or monkey puzzle tree. The nuts are quite different from Italian pine nuts. Pine nuts have a higher oil and protein content, whereas piñones are starchier, with a texture much like a chestnut. Also like a chestnut, they have to be boiled or roasted and then peeled before they can be eaten. The flavor is more earthy than nutty.
Piñones are harvested from March though May. Since they don’t have a high oil content, they store well without going rancid, so they are available in stores and markets throughout winter. I recently bought a bagful and then was stuck wondering what to do with them. The similarity to chestnuts got me thinking about some chestnut gnocchi I once had in Tuscany, so I thought I would see how that worked. The result was quite tasty. The texture of the gnocci was denser and heavier than pure potato gnocchi, while the earthy flavor was subtle yet distinctive. We tried them both plain (with butter and parmesan) and with a merquén butter. The piñon flavor was more noticeable in the former, but the latter presented a spectacular marrying of the earthy piñon and smoky merquén.
Monkey puzzle gnocchi
350 g (3/4 lb) piñones
2 or 3 potatoes, peeled and boiled
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 egg
1/2 to 1 cup flour
2 to 4 tablespoons butter (to taste)
1/2 teaspoon merquén powder
freshly grated parmesan
Boil the piñones for one hour, then let cool and peel off the outer shell. To peel, I used a knife to cut a vertical slit in one side, then used my thumbnail to peel open the shell. Reserve 10 to 12 piñones for the merquén butter, and process the rest in a food processor as finely as possible (about the texture of ground almonds). Separately, pass the potatoes through a ricer.
Measure two cups of ground piñones and one and a half cups of riced potatoes. Combine with the salt and egg, then knead in a half cup of flour (or more as necessary to form a workable dough). Knead for a couple of minutes, then form the gnocchi. Working with half the dough at a time, roll it into a snake about the thickness of your thumb. Cut off pieces about an inch long, pinch them in the middle to form a “waist,” then toss in flour. To cook, boil the gnocchi in a large pot of boiling salted water until they all float to the top. Remove with a slotted spoon.
Meanwhile, chop the reserved piñones. Melt the butter and briefly fry the piñones with the merquén. Remove from the heat when the butter starts to brown (be careful not to burn the butter.) Dress the gnocchi with the butter and chopped piñones, and a generous handful of freshly grated parmesan.
XI Cata y Vino wine tasting
Category: Aconcagua winemakingWe spent last Friday evening and all day Saturday pouring at the eleventh annual Cata y Vino wine tasting. We had a great time meeting the people who stopped by to try our wine, and of course it’s always fun to hang out with the MOVI group. Our room had a live jazz band for entertainment, and when the band wasn’t playing, someone’s iPod was shuffling through music to keep the mood lively. Both pourers and tasters appeared to have a good time.
Flaherty Wines once again used the event to launch our new vintage. We poured two wines: our 2008 Aconcagua blend and our 2008 Limarí blend. This is the first vintage of the Limarí, and it was very well received at the tasting. It was interesting to pour the two wines side by side, as they are quite different. The Aconcagua is similar to the 2007 blend, with about 60% Syrah, 25% Cabernet Sauvignon, and 15% Tempranillo. It is well structured and elegant, with cherry fruit and lots of spice, while the tannins are still young, giving the wine verve. The Limarí, in contrast, has a third each of Syrah, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Carmenère, all from Jim Pryor’s organic vineyard outside Punitaqui in the Limarí Valley. The Carmenère gives the wine a softer mouth feel, with a hint of the ripe red pepper typical of the variety. Both wines will be available on our sales markets within the next few months.
Raisin-pecan bread
Category: Jen's kitchenWhen I was chatting with a friend at the wine tasting this weekend, she mentioned her recent trip to Canada and commented that she really enjoyed the toasted cinnamon-raisin bread for breakfast. That was all it took to kick-start a craving, even though I haven’t thought of raisin toast in years. I worked out the ingredients during a lull in the tasting, and as soon as we got home on Sunday I started putting together the dough. The bread was baked by 7:00 pm and then toasted for breakfast Monday morning. Yummy.
A note on ingredients for those of us living in Chile. Pecans are available in Santiago at Veronica Blackburn on Alonso de Córdoba. They’re expensive, but considerably cheaper than I’ve seen at Jumbo and Lider (and I haven’t seen pecans at those stores in months). You could substitute walnuts if you like, or leave the nuts out altogether. For the raisins, I prefer corintos, as I find pasas to be overwhelmingly large in baked goods.
Finally, the cinnamon is fairly subtle in this recipe. If you’re craving cinnamon bread, increase the amount to one tablespoon.
Makes two loaves.
Raisin-pecan bread
1 1/2 tablespoons yeast
1 1/2 cups warm water
1 cup warm milk
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
2 tablespoons honey
2 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 cup whole wheat flour
5 1/2 to 6 1/2 cups white flour
1 cup raisins
1/2 cup pecans
To mix with an electric mixer: In the bowl of the mixer, sprinkle the yeast over the warm water and let sit until softened. Add the warm milk, melted butter, honey, salt, cinnamon, whole wheat flour, and about 2 1/2 cups of the white flour. Beat with the paddle attachment for about 30 seconds, until the dough becomes somewhat elastic. Change to the dough hook and add 2 to 2 1/2 cups of flour. Knead for five to seven minutes on the lowest or next-to-lowest setting. Add the raisins, pecans, and as much flour as necessary to achieve the desired consistency, then continue kneading for another five minutes.
When the dough is ready (it will spring back when you pinch it), turn it out into an oiled bowl, turn once to coat with oil, then cover with a damp towel and set in a warm place to rise until doubled in bulk (about an hour). Turn the dough out onto a floured surface and knead it briefly before dividing in two. To shape the loaves, flatten the dough into a rough rectangle (the same length as your pan), then tightly roll it into a loaf, stretching the dough over the ends (so the roll doesn’t show) and pinching all along the seam to seal it. Place seam-side down in well-greased loaf pans, cover again with a damp cloth, and let rise until double in bulk (about an hour). Bake at 375 F for 35 to 40 minutes, until the loaves are golden and sound hollow when tapped. Let cool for five or ten minutes before turning out of the pans to cool on a rack. Cool completely before slicing.
To mix by hand: Sprinkle the yeast over the warm water and let sit until softened. Add the warm milk, melted butter, honey, salt, cinnamon, whole wheat flour, and about 2 1/2 cups of the white flour. Beat with a wooden spoon for one hundred strokes, so that the dough becomes somewhat elastic. Mix in another cup of flour and turn the dough out onto a well-floured surface. Knead by hand for 15 to 17 minutes, adding in the white flour until the dough is the desired consistency. Halfway through the kneading, add in the raisins and pecans. When the dough is ready (it will spring back when you pinch it), proceed as described above.
XI Cata y Vino
Category: Aconcagua winemakingThe Eleventh Annual Cata y Vino wine tasting will be held this Friday and Saturday at the W Hotel in Santiago. Flaherty will be participating again this year as part of the MOVI group (Movimiento de Vinateros Independientes de Chile), an organization of small family wineries in Chile. Like last year, all the group members will be positioned together in a tasting room in the reserves section of the event.
If you’ll be in Santiago this weekend, be sure to head over to the new W Hotel on Isidora Goyenechea (across from the Plaza Perú). The tasting will be open on Friday evening from 5:00 to 10:00 and Saturday from 12:00 am to 10:00 pm. Look for the Sala MOVI and be sure to stop by our table to say hi. We’ll be pouring our 2008 Aconcagua and 2008 Limarí.
Farm-raised turkey: a review
Category: Cauquenes vineyard, Jen's kitchenI’ve mentioned our caretaker, Don Ismael, who lives near our property and helps us out with odd jobs. His wife, Sra. Zunilda, often sends Ed home with a gift of farm eggs or homemade bread for me, since I rarely get all the way down there myself. This past weekend she very kindly offered Ed a turkey—either live or slaughtered, whichever he preferred. He opted for slaughtered since he didn’t want a pet turkey (it wouldn’t have lasted long with our dogs, anyway). A few hours later, the deed was done, and Ed was on his way home with Sunday’s dinner.
It was quite an experience. Farm turkeys are quite different from the plump frozen balls one finds in the supermarket. First, the bird was much, much smaller, weighing in at a mere 2.7 kilos (about 6 pounds). Second, there were feet sticking out of the bag. I quickly hid the bag in the fridge to be dealt with the next day, but was then haunted by the thought of zombie turkeys. On Sunday, I put off dealing with the turkey as long as possible—prepping the stuffing, making turkey stock for the gravy (using wings and drumsticks from the store), and starting a lemon meringue pie.
Eventually, I could put it off no longer. I hesitantly pulled the carcass out of the bag, and then promptly dropped it in the sink when I discovered it still had the head attached. The long neck flopped around as I tried to figure out what was what. I avoided eye contact as I pulled out the giblets. Sra. Zunilda had left me the liver, the gizzard, and… alien eyeballs? Seriously, six or eight bright orange orbs of varying sizes came tumbling out along with the liver. Between that and the head, I was seriously freaked out. I later learned that these were partially developed egg yolks—ovary follicles, I guess—which one boils and serves like hard-cooked eggs. So my turkey was a hen.
Next, I examined the neck to figure out where to cut it off. Using poultry shears, I snipped it off at the base and then quickly removed the feet, as well. Once the head was disposed of, my scientific curiosity kicked in, so cleaning out the rest of the carcass was less traumatic. The heart and lungs were still attached, along with various other bits I was unable to identify.
When the bird was thoroughly cleaned, I stuffed it, trussed it, and slid it into the oven to roast. I have quite a history of undercooking roast chicken, so I made sure this bird was very well roasted—about two and a half hours at 350 F. It was beautifully browned when I brought it out to carve (though I was still too traumatized to remember to take a photo).
The flavor of the meat was excellent, and the breast was moist and tender. The legs and thighs were tough, with a gamier taste than store-bought turkey. We had plenty for the four of us for dinner, plus leftovers for turkey sandwiches the next day.
Basic stuffing recipe
Butter
Onion, diced
Celery, diced
Garlic, minced or pressed
Bay leaf
Salt and pepper
Sage, finely chopped
Stale baguette, cut into cubes
I learned to make stuffing from a James Beard cookbook, and his general rule for just about everything is, When in doubt, add more butter. So, melt a generous glob of butter in a pan (I used a good 4 to 6 tablespoons for this small bird, so double that for a commercial bird). Sauté the onion, celery, garlic, and bay leaf until the onion is translucent. (Be careful not to burn the garlic.) Remove the bay leaf, season generously with salt and pepper, then stir in the sage. Toss with the bread cubes, and stuff the turkey.
For this small bird, I used 1 medium onion, 1 stalk celery, 4 cloves garlic, 1 or 2 tablespoons of sage, and about five cups of bread cubes (the better part of a whole baguette); double everything for a commercial bird.
New pruning system
Category: Aconcagua winemakingThis season, we made a radical change in the pruning system we use on our Tempranillo vineyard—namely, we’ve switched the vineyard over from a double-cordon trellis to head pruning. For some time now, we’ve been trying to address the uneveness in vine development across the vineyard, and this winter required a hard pruning to promote long-term vine health. That gave us the opportunity to make the switch to head pruning, something we’ve been considering for a while.
The vineyard is planted on a curve. That isn’t a problem for the vines, which can grow in any direction we ask, but wires are another issue–they always go in a straight line between posts. This had two results. First, the vineyard required a lot of posts to keep the wires even remotely on the curve, which was not the most esthetic of options (especially in winter, when we looked out over a graveyard of white posts). Second, the wires tended to push the vines over into the inside of the curve, leaving too much fruit hanging in the shade during the growing season. Head pruning will solve both of these problems.
This year is a transition year, in which the training system is neither a true cordon nor true head pruning. We’ve taken the first, most radical step of cutting back the cordons to leave just a T where the vine will form a head. On each plant, we left three or four short spurs plus two longer spurs (three on more vigorous plants). The short spurs will begin to concentrate growth in the center, while the longer spurs will provide some crop for the 2011 vintage. Our spring thinning will also be aimed at continuing to shape the vines into a round head. Next winter, the two cordon arms will be shortened further to fully eliminate the cordon system, while one or two new canes will be left to round out the vine head.
