I had the steak frites, medium rare.  The “steak” in question was skirt steak, which is often used to make carne asada.  It wasn’t the most tender cut of meat, but it was tender enough and very, very flavorful.  It came with what I took to be caramelized shallots and a sort of creamy chimichurri on top, as well as Leopold’s breathtakingly good frites.  She had the roasted chicken which came with potatoes, warm escarole, and some sort of mustard sauce.  Both dishes were very good and very filling.  After dinner we shared a topfentorte (cheesecake with passionfruit gel, mango, and berries) and each had a kleiner Brauner, which is basically like an Austrian machiato.

The wine was, if might say, very good.  It was the Tegernseerhof Grüner Veltliner Bergdistel (I forget what vintage but it was fairly recent–I’m guessing 2007) which, at about $40 for the bottle, was a steal.  It was clean, mid-to-full bodied, minerally, and utterly refreshing.  I wouldn’t say it was fruity per se, though there might have been some citrus.  However, the minerality dominated, as did a nice streak of acidity, and the characteristic pepper was there to add a small bite at the end.  It was a very good match for the chicken and, as I hoped, a good complement to my steak.  I would highly recommend it if you were to go to Leopold’s Kafe, especially if you were to drink it with their excellent moules frites.

The rest of the night ended nicely.  While we were eating dessert the rain started falling; we were seated outside but were underneath an umbrella.  The hostess asked if we wanted to come inside, but we waited till we were done as it wasn’t unpleasant and, actually, was quite pleasant.  Some drinks at the bar afterwards then, after putting her in a taxi, I walked home down the streets of Georgetown as the rain fell around me.

I really like the blue and white tile. (Thanks to the Times for the picture!)

At any rate, Intelligentsia’s space was designed by a woman named Barbara Bestor. I found that she had also designed the interior of a quirky wine bar / restaurant called Lou, which happens to be in a seedy strip mall–sandwiched between a Thai massage parlor and a 24-hour laundromat–off of Melrose and Vine in Hollywood.

I did some more reading on Lou and liked what I read: a fair-sized and eclectic wine selection? Check. Hip interior? Check. Good food? Check. All I needed was to actually go.

A friend and I went earlier today and, man, the outside was as seedy as I had read online. The marquee sign in front of the strip mall has the names of each establishment therein, and for the restaurant the sign was all of three letters: LOU. We thought the place was closed on account a full-length floral curtain that covered the entire front side of the restaurant; luckily, it was far from closed.

(Thanks to Lou for the pictures!)

We sat at the communal table in the middle. The only negative is that it’s a bit cramped, though this turned out to have its charms as it’s easy to strike up simple conversation–as I did–with some neighbors. Found out that the roasted fresh figs with Tilston blue cheese, almonds, and grapes were a good bet, as was the salad of farro, heirloom tomato, Dante sheep cheese, Bermuda onion, and pistou. To be safe, we also ordered a bowl of sweet corn and avocado soup.

I think the best part about Lou is the wine. They had two beer selections and twenty-nine wines to choose from. Each of the wines were available by the two-ounce taste, glass, or bottle. The bottle prices were pretty darn reasonable, with the most expensive bottle going for $64 and the majority falling within $40 – $50. Tastes were average $6 and were surprisingly generous.

The menu had different categories of wine: for instance, it started with “Sparkly” and went on to “Fresh, light-bodied whites” and a few others, then ended with “Fuller-bodied, meaty, and earthy reds”, “Sweet muscats”, and “Other sweeties”. The varietal or appellation was listed first for each wine, then the prices, the country or state, winemaker and vintage, then brief a description.

And, for you health- or environment-conscious out there, Lou lists identifies “organic” and “biodynamic” wines on their menu!

We started off with tastes of the 2006 Beausejour cabernet franc rosé and the 1989 Domaine Brunet chenin blanc. I like the setup of the menu in that it lists a few descriptive words on each wine. For instance, the Beausejour was described as tasting like “white peaches”, whereas the chenin blanc was advertised as a “fabulicious aged chenin, mellow-sweet but not sticky, perfectly balanced.” The rosé was decent enough–I’ve had better–but the chenin blanc, a demi-sec from the Vouvray appellation of France, was truly “fabulicious.”

I brought the glass to my nose and took a whiff: I could smell the oxidation–heck, it was almost 20 years old! It was off-dry, for sure, with hints of honey and toasted almond, and a viscous mouthfeel. It almost had a port quality to it. It truly was mellow, though with a plasticine pucker that skirted dangerously to unpleasantness. It avoided this pitfall with really nice green apple acidity that basically saved this wine from itself. The acid was not overbearing at all; there was fine balance, as advertised, between the acid and the sweetness, the texture and the body. Tremendous, and well worth the $7 taste and even $56 per bottle price. It complemented the figs, grapes, and almonds, which were cooked slightly in what I felt was a port or balsalmic reduction.

For our second round of tastes, she had a Beaujolais (made from the gamay grape) cru, the 2006 Piron Chenas to be specific. This was billed as having hints of “black cherry”. I’m a fan of Beaujolais, so I was all for it. I tried a strange Austrian varietal, the blaufränkisch, a varietal I had been meaning to try ever since Eric Asimov profiled it and its cousin, zweigelt, in the Times. The specific wine I tried was the 2005 Moric blaufränkisch.

To be honest, I was a bit disappointed with the blaufränkisch. As Mr. Asimov notes, blaufränkisch can make full and delicious wines, but many examples of this varietal are clumsy and poorly executed. I felt this to be the case with the Moric. There was a fair amount of acidity and a bit of a tannic bite, which could have been balanced with some good body–but the body never developed. It felt a bit flabby and overly acidic at the same time, which is not a combination one should ever see in a wine.

But I was quite happy with the results of the wine “tasting”. I got to try a 20-year-old chenin blanc–one of my favorite white varietals–and blaufränkisch, a strange wine I had been meaning to try now for a while. I also got acquainted with a nice rosé from a varietal–cabernet franc–I had never before experienced as a rosé, and got reacquainted with a lovely, light Beaujolais.

Lou: a hidden gem. Wonderful service, wonderful atmosphere, and a serious, serious wine list that has something for everyone. A must-try for any budding oenophile!

Manning (Peyton? Eli? Archie or Cooper?) or, if you will, womanning the bar was Debbie, a delightful woman who crossed over years back from Colorado to pursue a love of wine. Heck, I would drive hundreds of miles for wine. In fact, that’s the primary reason I head up to Berkeley so often (sorry Jonathan!). She served us the five wines on the menu, as well as two more “bonus” pours.

The wines were:

J. Hofstatter “De Vite” Pinot Grigio | Alto Adige, Italy | 2005 | $11.99
We took turns writing tasting notes. My notes for this wine were “uber-light.” Kat’s notes were a star surrounded by a circle, along with the word “unfabulous”, which I’m not even sure is a word (thanks, spell check!). This pinot grigio was too light, too insubstantial. It was citrusy, which isn’t a bad thing, but to my palate at least it also seemed to have that plasticine taste I abhor in whites. As Mark Oldman notes in his Guide to Outsmarting Wine, much pinot grigio is “often like experiencing an IKEA rug, Ben Stein’s voice, or a dose of Paxil: neutral, monotone, and devoid of highs.” And watery. The region of Alto Adige is apparently home to some more “interesting versions” of pinot grigio, but this particular bottle was not one of them.

Heidi Schrock “White Blend” Muscat | Rust, Austria | 2006 | $26.99
A much better wine than the first. Exhibited a huge, sweet bouquet like honey or roses that gave way to an extremely dry, austere wine in the mouth. Like smelling a rose then, maybe in a fit of passion, eating a petal. Katherine gave this wine five stars.

(Note about Kat’s ranking system: she only gives either one star or five. So she really likes a wine or really hates it. Much like how most people judge her. Kidding again!)

Elizabeth Spencer “Special Cuvee” Pinot Noir | Sonoma Coast, California | 2006 | $32.99
You know–I’m not really a big fan of pinot noir. I know, I know–who am I to argue with Miles from Sideways, right? The best pinot noirs I’ve had were very different in price. I tried the heralded Sea Smoke Southing pinot noir from the Santa Rita Hills of California–oh God. It was probably the best wine I’ve ever had in my life. That one two-ounce taste set me back like $8.00, I think, but it was worth it. The MacMurray pinot noir from the Russian River Valley, which is around $17 – $20, is a great, easy, and affordable pinot noir.

Usually, though, pinot noirs seem too… light for me. I like wines (and women) with a bit of heft. I also like wines (and women) that stain your teeth. (The implications here frighten me… forget I ever wrote that.) The Elizabeth Spencer pinot was… like heaven if it were on the California coast line. Plum, prune, earth, balanced so delicately and with such trembling fragility. A poem in a glass, if ever there was one. And an expensive poem, at that.

Kat gave this one five stars. She didn’t write anymore notes after this one.

Seghesio Zinfandel | Sonoma County, California | 2006 | $17.99
Jammy. Pretty decent. Good with chocolate. Nothing really to write home about, though.

Atalays de Golban Tempranillo | Ribera del Duero, Spain | 2005 | $23.99
A moderately full, tannic wine that to me reflects the dry river Duero in Spain. Pretty good, though you have a comparable tempranillo in the Conde de Valdemar Rioja reserva for less money (around $17.00). For a great Ribera del Duero, though, go for the Tinto Pesquera crianza: so complex, with loads of flavor and spice (around $35.00).

I pointed out to Debbie that all the Ribera del Duero labels have structures… like towers, or castles, or other man-made edifices. At this point, though, I was pretty buzzed so I could not for the life of me remember the name “Tinto Pesquera.” She nodded at me and smiled, just as many people seem to do with me.

Bonus Wines
The first was a barbaresco from the Produttori del Barbaresco collective in Piedmont, Italy. Made from nebbiolo, this was very, very light–lighter than the Elizabeth Spencer pinot noir–but substantial nonetheless. I got the taste of raisin, licorice, red… stuff. Light but not fragile. Kind of… another incarnation of what the pinot noir might have been, perhaps?

The second was some wine made by some customer of Mission Wines! He bought the grapes himself and made them into a wine that was powerful, extremely spicy–peppery, even–and tannic as heck. No one knew what kind of grapes he used as he himself was not there at the moment. But it was cool to be able to sample a wine from someone who presumably lives in South Pasadena or a neighboring city.

WINE PICK OF THE WEEK
Probably pretty obvious, but the Elizabeth Spencer was the clear winner for me. The next time I have $32.99 + tax lying around, I will head over the Mission Wines and buy a bottle. It won’t be soon.