This is understandable.  My first experience with Beaujolais was in 2005, when I was still an RA at Berkeley.  I purchased a bottle of basic Beaujolais from Kermit Lynch.  I chilled it, just as the KLWM staff recommended, and served it to a few guests.  None of my guests liked it.  It was too thin, too acidic, a washed-out excuse of a wine.  I agreed with them to an extent, but there was something about it that I liked.

A few years (and a whole helluva lotta bottles of Beaujolais) later I’ve managed to articulate what I like about Beaujolais.  It’s not just one thing; there are many great things that make Beaujolais one of my favorite appellations.  For starters, it is inexpensive.  You can buy some serious bottles for less than $25.00, and you can buy most for under $20.00.  It is a joyful wine, one that you chill and gulp down, especially because Beaujolais is low alcohol (anywhere between 11-13% ABV).  It goes well with a wide variety of foods, from roast chicken to fish, and even to red meats.  Finally, it’s just tasty, full of fresh fruit but with some of the better examples featuring dark earth, minerality, and significant structure.

But yes, Beaujolais can often appear to be thin and washed-out.  This is not the case for the current vintage (2009) of Beaujolais, which Georges Duboeuf (the mastermind behind the phenomenon known as Beajolais nouveau) has proclaimed not only the vintage of the decade, or the vintage of the century, but the vintage of a lifetime:

Duboeuf’s passionate support for Vintage 2009 in Beaujolais is especially noteworthy as this tall angular man with the quiet voice and penetrating stare is not usually demonstrative, nor does he tend to exaggerate.  But when he recalled conditions of the 2009 growing season, his features softened and his voice quickened.  “There was good flowering in May and a steady warming through August. The amazing weather in 2009 means the Beaujolais wines are incredibly elegant and delicious.  In the 60 years I have been making Beaujolais, 2009 is the best vintage of my lifetime.”

I’m suspicious of such grand sweeping statements, but I like Beaujolais so was going to buy and drink it no matter what anyone said.  I’ve managed to have two bottles so far, and while I’m not going to generalize from that small sample size to an entire vintage or appellation, I will say that if other Beaujolais are of the same quality, then the 2009 vintage is, indeed, an exceptional one.  Note that the two bottles I drank were Beaujolais cru, not basic Beaujolais or Beaujolais villages.

The first one is from Kermit Lynch, the 2009 Nicole Chanrion Côte-de-Brouilly (about $22).  I found this one to be more similar to other vintages of Beaujolais I’ve had, still very light bodied and full of fruit (albeit dark fruit).  However, it had a substantial amount of tannin, much more than I’m used to for Beaujolais cru.

I preferred the second one much more: the 2009 Albert Bichot Morgon (about $20).

I purchased a bottle from my friend Jeremy at Potenza for $12 and I am kicking myself for not buying much more.  I had this a few nights ago and I was blown away by its concentration and elegance.  The nose was full of blackberry, and simply exploded on the palate with sweet, ripe fruit and stone.  It was almost jammy but an absolute joy to drink.  I can imagine that Beaujolais purists might not have liked this because it almost did not resemble a Beaujolais at all: it was like a blackberry cobbler or something.  But this would be the perfect wine to convert “Boo-juice” haters to lovers, and that would be a very good thing.

That being said, I went to Trader Joe’s on Thursday to stock up on foodstuffs.  Unfortunately, everyone and their mothers (literally) had the same idea, and the line wrapped all the way around the inside of the store and down the oils/pastas/nuts/dried fruits aisle.  Yikes!

What was more pleasant for me was going to MacArthur Beverages (as chronicled in a recent post) and then to Ansonia Wines to pick up some wine.  I’ve had the opportunity to have a friend or two over with whom to brave the cold, and we’ve gone through a few bottles of wine.

The first one was the Kermit Lynch CdR, which I’ve described previously as a joyous, joyful wine.  Having finished that bottle (thanks, Christine!), I moved on next to a cru Beaujolais, the 2008 Domaine du Vissoux “Poncié” Fleurie ($21.99).  Owned by Martine and Pierre-Marie Chermette, who are pioneers of sustainable viticulture in the Beaujolais region, this domaine produces a number of terrific wines.  The Poncié was light and aromatic, smelling of violets.  It was full of red fruit–think strawberry or raspberry–but ended with a nice suggestion of minerals and stone.  All-around great light wine, though ultimately not as expressive as other cru Beaujolais I’ve had in the past.

The next wine, which I opened to have with yesterday’s home-cooked dinner of turkey meatloaf, roasted brussels sprouts, and mashed potatoes, was the 2007 Domaine Saint Gayan Côtes du Rhône ($12.99).  Phil from MacArthur Beverages recommended this wine to me as a very good, inexpensive example of CdR.  Man, what a great wine!  Classic Côtes du Rhône nose of berries and herbs, tasting of boysenberry, licorice, and earth, solid acidity with pleasant tannins.  Juicy but also dark.  Very warming.  I would HIGHLY, HIGHLY recommend this wine and am strongly considering going back to MacArthur to buy a half-case of this for the next few weeks of cold weather.

The snow is falling outside.  I am listening to some good jazz and drinking the remainder of the Saint Gayan.  Soon I’ll have leftover turkey meat loaf and mashed potatoes.  Snowmageddon ain’t so bad after all.

Thus, I’ve been able to go to Mission Wines, my favorite local wine spot here in little South Pasadena. I rounded up a crew of the usuals–William, his friend Sam, Chris M. and his gf, Sasha and his gf, and Jack M. from days yore–and we hit up the wine tasting this past Saturday. Manning the bar were the always dependable Dave and Matthew; Kirk from the Rose Bowl committee was there along with a spate of regulars.

The tasting started off with a 2008 Pierre-Marie Chermette “Les Griottes” Beaujolais rosé, made from gamay.  A Beaujolais rosé?  I mean, much Beaujolais is darn close to rosé, anyway.  Nonetheless, this was a nice wine with a vibrant pink color and an austere, slightly coppery taste.  It wasn’t sweet and not overtly fruity.  It was my first Beaujolais rosé, so I was delighted to have it be a positive experience.  

We moved on to a real winner–the 2008 Jorge Ordonez Botani moscatel seco.  Botani is owned and operated by that magnate of Spanish wine, Jorge Ordonez, who also imports the excellent Vinicola Onix blend from Priorat and the intense, brooding Juan Gil.  Although the Botani vineyard usually produces sweet white wines made from the moscatel grape, the wine I tried on Saturday was off-dry, surprisingly viscous with a huge nose of very ripe muscat grapes.  (Have you ever had the Korean drink Sac Sac?  It’s grape juice in a can with whole peeled muscat grapes.  The Botani reminded me of that.)

The next was the Tantara T. Solomon Wellborn pinot noir from Santa Barbara, a multi-vintage pinot that I honestly found uninspiring and a little too… unfocused?  I was glad to move onto the 2007 Bistro Grenache from Epicurean, that Washington-based importer of fine Australian wines.  Apparently they have started to dabble in producing their own wines–so far, so good.  Sourced from vineyards in the McLaren Vale, this is a straightforward wine: dusky color, dusty plum full of umami, overlaid by a cloying sweetness.  I sensed some clove and, I don’t know why or how, some red lipstick–perhaps from the one or two women I’ve kissed in my day?  ;)  Pretty good, with a cool hip label:

We strayed off the tasting menu for a pour of a 2006 Essenza di Negroamaro from Italy.  This was a bit closed at first but opened up gradually in the glass–well-balanced tannins and a cedar box nose.  It sort of reminded me of a fruit rollup, but not in a bad way.

Ah–here was a great one–a truly unique wine.  After having tried it at Lou on Vine, I had been looking everywhere for a bottle of a Lacrima di Morro.  I wrote about it before, so I’ll just quote from my previous post:

Tears of Morro (Morro being the commune of Morro d’Alba in the Italian province of Ancona, which is on the Adriatic coast).

Lacrima di Morro is a wine whose grape (Lacrima di Morro d’Alba) is of an ancient and confusing origin–so ancient and so confusing, in fact, that its precise genealogy may never be determined.

This wine blew me away because it was like no other wine I’ve ever tasted. Sure, there are other wines whose nose may approximate flowers, but the Lacrima di Morro actually SMELLS like violets. It’s unmistakable. It’s incredible. And when you take a sip, those violets morph on your tongue into petals of rose. The aftertaste is evocative of rosewater–Turkish Delights, anyone? Light body, low-to-medium tannins, and medium acidity make for a playful, idiosyncratic wine.

I don’t remember the producer of that previous version, but this one was the 2007 Lacrima di Morro from Quercia Antica Velenosi.  The one I tried last week had the unmistakable violets on the nose, yes, but the first sniff actually reminded me more of fresh blueberry pie than violets.  Oh well, a wonderful wine–though not everyone’s favorite, just to be fair.

I scored a pour of the 2007 Domaine Alary “La Brunote” from Cairanne, France: primarily grenache, this was round with just enough tannins to keep things interesting.  I found it better than the Bistro Grenache from Australia, but at around $24 or so it was also about $10 more expensive.

We finished off with the 2007 Domaine les Grands Bois “Cuvee Gabrielle” Cotes-du-Rhone Villages, the last pour of the official tasting.  This one had pepper and herbs on the nose, a big entry rounding out to a smooth mouthfeel, raisins and the hint of spice.  Very good.

My favorite of the day?  I had a few actually, for different occasions.  The Botani would be a great summer white and probably popular with the ladies.  The Domaine Alary would be a great bottle for a cooler day–maybe in the autumn.  The Lacrima di Morro would edge out both, however, just for sheer idiosyncrasy.  It was extremely satisfying to finally find it; I bought a bottle for my friends to try and bought the last bottle at the store to bring home (my mom and sister loved it, by the way).  

Along with the Lacrima di Morro, I bought a bottle of the 2008 Le Bastide Blanche Bandol rosé and, to celebrate my new Riedel Burgundy glasses, I purchased a bottle of the 2007 Cristom “Mt. Jefferson Cuvee” pinot noir from the Willamette Valley of Oregon.  The Bandol was very VERY austere–dry and permeated with minerals–a pale rust color, and better the second day than the first (especially with some Moroccan-style quail and cous cous!).  The pinot was billed as more in the Burgundy style–it was more like a Burgundy than the pinots that so many Californians love, but still more on the opulent than restrained side.  It was good, but I’d still take the Kermit Lynch selection from Domaine A. Et. P. De Villaine any day.  And, in somewhat of an irony, the Burgundy is cheaper than the Oregon pinot!

Needless to say, I’ve had a lot of great wine lately, and a lot of great people to share it with.

The concrete reason for my trip was to visit two of my former residents (and current friends), Semra and Kana, and their awesome apartment up in the hills on North Side.  There was a sentimental reason, too–namely, that all of my residents and thus the vast majority of the people I knew in Berkeley would be graduating and leaving for the big vast world after college.  

There was a oenological reason, too: I wanted to drink a lot of great wine!

Again, as in my New York post, I’m going to just write down phrases that will hopefully serve to jog my memory when I’m looking back after a few decades.  =)

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Wednesday, May 13
Flight in to Oakland.  BART to Downtown Berkeley and up Euclid, right on Virginia.  Up up up Virginia.  Apartment.  Met up with Kana, went down to get lunch at Poulet. Realized they had only $5.00 corkage. Went to Andronico’s and got two bottles–a bottle of the Domaine E.C. (Emile Cheysson) “Clos les Farges” Chiroubles Beaujolais cru for lunch with our poultry, and a bottle of the 2000 Senorio de P. Pecina Rioja crianza for later.  A huge amount of delicious food at Poulet with a lightly-chilled bottle of the Chirouble (perfect!).  Some of the Rioja later with Kana and Semra at home. Wandering around seeing the sights.  An iced Americano at the Free Speech Movement Cafe. Met up with Stephanie with two of her friends outside the newly-created East Asian American Library on campus.  Fat Slice and La Burrito.  Home, more drinking of the Rioja.

Thursday, May 14
Unsuccessful run at both Gregoire and Vintage Berkeley (they both open at 11 am). Hung out with Aileen. A wonderful subsidized lunch of a pork tenderloin sandwich, fries, glass of Ampelos Rosé of Syrah, and citrus-infused panna cotta at Adagia. An iced Americano at Strada. Shopping with Semra and her awesome roommate Hilary at Andronico’s (for late-night snacks) and Kermit Lynch (for late-night drinking). Some more of the Rioja, which had developed into a very different wine–away from earth but more towards a mushroomy, old-wine sort of taste; not unpleasant but wholly unexpected.

Out to SF. A cappuccino at the SFMOMA cafe. Dinner with Dre at Osha Thai. Back to Berkeley. Back to Andronico’s for more ingredients. Cooked a series of three snacks. First, shrimp ceviche (cooked Bay shrimp with a salsa of tomato, avocado, cilantro, onion, serrano and jalepeno pepper, garlic, salt, and lime juice) and tortilla chips served with the 2008 Denis Jamain Reuilly pinot gris rosé–clean, crisp, and very very light, with just the hint of berries and minerals. Second, garlic shrimp (shrimp cooked in the shell with olive oil, garlic, salt, and crushed red pepper) served with the remainder of the rosé and some of the absolutely gorgeous 2007 Domaine A. Et. P. De Villaine “La Fortune” Cote Chalonnaise Bourgogne. Third, filet mignon rolls (filet mignon sliced thin, half a fingerling potato, a circle of leek, and goat cheese) served with the remainder of the Bourgogne and with some of the brooding, restrained, iron-fist-in-a-silk-glove that is the 2007 Clos la Coutales malbec from Cahors (I had been disappointed with this wine in DC, but I am happy to report that that bottle was a clear aberration). Drunk, drunk, drunk.

Friday, May 15
Hung out for a while at the apartment, then went to Nefeli Caffe for cappuccinos and a pizette with Semra and Hilary. My first time at North Berkeley Wine Imports. Browsing wines to the tune of the great Dark Was The Night album. Picked out some more bottles. Dropped off at Strada. More iced Americano. Dropped off my bags at my new place with Stephanie on Durant. Met with Kana at Strada again for another iced Americano, met a new Phi Delt (my old fraternity) who had been initiated long after I had graduated, found out from him that some Phis were at the Bear’s Lair. Went to Bear’s Lair. Met up with Patrick, Matt, Evan, and some new Phis and Jess B.; ran into my old residents Danny, Alicia, Jessica, and Catherine. Dinner at the I-House with Dana. Wine with Michael, Emma, Jed, Jose (the old Adagia crew) and Atsuko (who was hired long after me). First the 2007 Domaine Diochon Moulin-a-Vent “Vieilles Vignes” cuvee–nice fruit, impressive structure. A unique Ballantine petit verdot that opened up beautifully in the glass courtesy of Jed. Last, the 2005 Bodegas Monte De Reina Tinta de Toro Edicion Limitada from North Berkeley Wine Imports: lush, dark, with full body and nice tannins. Then Brian Martinelli, Teeny, and Chuck showed up; I hitched a ride in Brian’s Le Sabre to the Smokehouse, where I conquered the near-mythical double chili-cheese dog with a side of fries and a Coke (double as in two hot dogs in one bun).

Saturday, May 16
MacArthur BART station to meet up with Ratha. Lake Merritt. A cappuccino and eggs scrambled with lox, cream cheese, and chives at the Lakeshore Cafe. Through the Farmer’s Market. A walk around part of Lake Merritt. Visit to Ratha’s place. BART back to Berkeley. Picked up a whole bunch of books at Pegasus and Pendragon (including first editions of Near the Ocean by Robert Lowell and Praise by Robert Hass). An iced tea (for once) at the Free Speech Movement Cafe with Lauren. Dinner at Angeline’s with Jeff, who is going to the Philippines for his internship. A brief detour on Addison to see Semra one last time at her British friend Ben’s apartment. Some Becks on the roof. No wine all day. Home, and sleep.

Sunday, May 17
Packing for LA. Iced coffee at Peet’s with Stephanie. Brunch at La Note, consisting of a cup of coffee and the omelette de pommes de terre (open-faced potato and caramelized onion omelet) for me and the cote nord (eggs soft-scrambled with goat cheese over French bread) for Steph. Airport. LA.

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This trip was bittersweet, as always, but not for the usual reasons. This trip was bittersweet more for the fact that an era had passed, and that I’d have to stay in SF or Oakland the next time I went up to Berkeley. I certainly had more money during this last trip than I ever had while in college, and I had a great time, but some things can’t be bought and certainly cannot be reproduced: scraping together change for an Americano, grilling cheap frozen hamburger patties on a rickety old deck, holding hands while watching the sun set over the Bay.

I’m keen on trying this last one because it comes recommended from Trey at The Wine Specialist and seems to have received some favorable press online: the Bourgogne-Passeltoutgrain is a small appellation located in the larger Bourgogne (Burgundy) region.  By law the red wines of this region must consist of at least 1/3 pinot noir and no more than 2/3 gamay–thus, it represents a vinous transition from the Beaujolais region and its gamay-based wines and Burgundy and its pinot noir-based wines.

Otherwise, my law school’s newspaper just launched an online version!  I’ve been writing pretty regularly for the paper, which is published biweekly.  Check out my last article here!

The author of Vinicultured has been my friend for six years. In counting all of the intersections of our lives, I’d have to say that this cross-post is the culmination of those years. If you think that’s insulting, then you either underestimate the power of food as a social anchor or overestimate my ability to maintain a decent friendship. In any case, one late night trip to Berkeley’s most infamously mediocre taqueria in 2003 has already proven you wrong.

Back then, I was abstinent, and Joon was drunk. I was turning my 20th year on planet Earth and doing a terrible job of it. Joon was trying hard not to start a fight with the neighboring fraternity and doing just as badly. We decided to settle our scores with burritos. That night ended with me playing the guitar and him rambling about life’s unsung battles in the tiniest bedroom on the most unforgiving slope Berkeley has to offer. After that year, I never set foot in a fraternity house again.

Wikipedia reveals the true colors of wine tasting!

Last weekend, Joon and I raised our glasses under the aegis of a different cult: that sloshing, swirling society of connoisseurs known as wine tasters. It was a fitting signpost to our most recent intersection of lifestyles: He, the Bar bound poet and romantic, and I, the pop culture obsessed musician and blogger, would soon be ending our purgatorial sentences in Southern California as we once again made our moves on the world at large. We toasted our future discoveries and disillusionment in advance with a few glasses of joy at Heritage Wine Company in Pasadena.

To the unvinicultured, Heritage is a near-perfect self parody of a wine bar. Refined, semi-modern furniture bearing off-Ikea candles welcomes visitors to the club. Soft jazz hums along in the background. A young professional couple too embarrassing to look at sits before a flight of red wines, the woman blithely fiddling with her cellphone while the man slings an arm over his bench and takes a lifeless sip of his next sample. A beautiful young lady offers us a menu, indulging us with her personal favorites, knowing that as long as she smiles and laughs we will gladly do anything she suggests. In the background, the owner of the business shuffles bottles, waiting for the challenger of the day to seat himself self-assuredly at the bar for an hour of shop talk.

As the title of this blog attests, Joon’s own summation of Heritage Wine Company would be quite different. For example, he might have something insightful to say about the three bottles of wine we opened with our friends. As I recall, the 2004 Omaka Springs Falveys Pinot Noir was a crisp, tart affair, light bodied and nimbly cherried. The 2005 Domaine Ferrer Ribiere Empreinte du Temps Carignan Vin de Pays des Cotes Catalanes (I can’t decide whether or not my Russian phoenetics instructor would be proud or ashamed that I managed to remember that name) was a heavier duty glass: deep, dry and deliciously violet. Joon’s final selection, the 2006 Saint Amour Cru Beaujolais, came chilled. By that point, my insensitive and intoxicated wine palette could sense only the arrival of more sweet alcohol. The wines were fine, but like the names of the songs we sang in Joon’s room five years prior, these titles, too, were meant to be forgotten.

Once again, we closed the evening with the assistance of a large burrito. As I engulfed every delicious morsel, I wondered for a moment if I would ever set foot in a wine bar again. As long as I could call Joon a friend, I knew the answer would probably be yes.

Heritage Wine Company
115 N. Raymond Ave.
Pasadena, CA 91103
626.844.9333

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James Boo is a food blogger and all-purpose geek. You can read his work at theeatenpath.com and indefinite-articles.com.

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!

Zankou is a Pasadena institution, made famous by Beck in his brilliant song “Debra” (I met her… at J.C. Penny…). EVERYONE AND THEIR MOTHER loves Zankou chicken. And you can’t beat their kitschy shirts:

But I’ve found that their chicken is lacking (gasp!). Their portions are small, the chicken is greasy, and the skin–the most important part!–is rubbery. It’s like eating a rubber chicken–a delicious one, but still, a rubber chicken.

People love Zankou’s garlic sauce. I agree. It’s damned good. But even with their combination plates you don’t get rice pilaf! You only get pita and hummus and tomato and pickled turnips. And their standard 1/2 chicken plate is $7.98.

Al Wazir is on the corner of Hollywood and Gower. They roast their chickens using the 2000-year-old “Al Wazir” method. A standard 1/2 chicken plate is $6.45 and includes hummus, salad, pickled turnips, AND rice pilaf. It’s enough for two people.

But the most important part is the chicken itself. The skin is superb, crisp and crackling. The flesh is moist and tender. It’s obviously superior to Zankou, though most of the people at my office don’t agree.

Now the connection with wine: Al Wazir, and maybe Zankou, is great with beaujolais nouveau–specifically, the Louis Tête mentioned in a previous post. Beaujolais nouveau is perhaps the lightest, most white-like red wine. It’s fruity, juicy, and meant to be gulped joyously. It’s refreshing and, the best thing, it gets you drunk.

If you hurry, you might be able to find bottles of nouveau in stores–it’s a bit late for beaujolais nouveau, but I suspect that there are thousands of bottles sitting around, waiting for their moment in the sun.

A lot of people hate beaujolais nouveau, and as a result completely dismiss beaujolais.

First, if your only experience with beaujolais nouveau has been Georges Dubeof (zhohrzh(uh) dew-buhf) you should consider trying a better version! Critics say that Dubeof’s nouveau is worse than Kool-Aid–my experience generally seems to corroborate this. However, I have had very good nouveau:

Louis Tête produces a delicious nouveau that is thirst-quenching, balanced, and easy on the budget ($11 – $12).

I have to admit that beaujolais nouveau is strange: it’s as close a red will get to a white wine. There is zero tannin versus a fair bit of acidity, a bit of sweetness and fruitiness. It’s meant to be served chilled, and meant to be gulped. Nouveau itself has a production time of two months or less, and unlike many reds it is NOT supposed to be aged.

And that’s just “new” beaujolais. Beaujolais itself is another matter that will be discussed in another post.