The Importance of Local(s) Seafood.

 
Jay’s Happy Place

Jay’s Happy Place

 

Proximity to the ocean makes our lives better. After a week on the Outer Banks I’m feeling recharged, excited about the wines we import, particularly the bottles that compliment the abundant sustainable seafood hauled in by small boats working from harbors along the N.C. shoreline.

Beautiful bivalves are in season. The regrettable absence of a robust restaurant economy at present makes it our duty to eat ever greater amounts of fresh-caught fish from local providers at home. Let’s keep them on the water, and leave the ethically suspect commodity seafood hauled in by giant ships far from our shores on the shelf.

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Visintini Cinzia Bianco (Friulano/Pinot Bianco) This biodynamic family farm is closer to the northern edge of the Adriatic than we are to the Atlantic. Italy has so much coastline that I don’t really consider the Colli Orientali area “coastal” but in fact it’s a former seabed, and very much influenced by the gulf of Trieste 25 km to its south. The pretty floral aromas of Friulano make me want this dry white with fat shrimp sprinkled with aromatic herbs, possibly even prepared slightly spicy. Shrimp and grits with hot sauce, grilled shrimp with sriracha and thai basil, many directions to travel from Cinzia’s flavors. 

Cascina Barisel Perdisne vino rosato (Dolcetto) It’s not a secret that I prefer clams, oysters, and to a lesser degree mussels to most other forms of protein. In the Piedmontese town of Canelli, affable farmer Franco Penna grows Dolcetto on vines that surround his mother’s house, and makes clean, fruity, low-sulfur rosé utterly lacking in rough edges in the cellar underneath their ancestral home. The wine is unremittingly amiable, and singular in character: like Franco! The rich sweetness of great local clams bring out the red fruit in Perdisne, which incidentally is a word in Piedmontese dialect that means “for lunch.” It’s an excellent suggestion, as long as a lazy afternoon spent considering the odd-couple brilliance of linguine and clams can follow the meal.

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Centorame Scuderie Ducali Pecorino Colli Aprutini - On a clear day it’s easy to see the Adriatic from Lamberto Vannuci’s hilltop winery in Casoli di Atri, Abruzzo. To the west, snowy Apennines beckon to cyclists like Lamberto. I’m more than happy to leave the winding roads of this remote region entirely unexplored, at least by pedal power. I will meet Vannucci at any of Pescara’s seaside restaurants that are a breezy 40 km downhill ride to the east, to drink Pecorino with brodetto filled with frutti di mare. Pecorino’s tiny yellow-green grapes are packed with snappy acidity, and the high elevation, sun-exposed central Italian fields where they grow allow for ripe, sometimes veering toward tropical flavors to develop. Certified organic, solar panel powered, and so good with fish soup!

Carussin Completo 1-liter vino rosso (mostly Barbera, also Dolcetto, Grignolino, and a long list of other Piedmontese grapes) There are red wines that taste great with certain kinds of seafood. I found beautiful, just-caught tuna at the Ocracoke Seafood Company, calling to me from their display case, right next to fat, perfect scallops. We aren’t in Malbec territory: the red wine for this meal needs to be low in alcohol, high in acidity, chillable. Completo checks all the boxes. Biodynamically farmed by Matteo Garberoglio, the younger son of Bruna and Luigi. Matteo grows the grapes for this bargain red in the field in front of the farmhouse he and his partner Giorgia share with seasonal workers from around the world, disciples that flock to Garberoglio’s multi-generational family farm to see happy hippy viticultural ideas in practice. Completo has spice notes that compliment rare tuna. The wine has close to zero tannin, which is good because tannin is a mortal foe of most fish dishes. Big enough to share, and with a screw cap. It’s the wine I drink from a bistro glass when I need to take a break from odious stemware snobbery. 

 
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Castello di Torre in Pietra Roma Bianco (Malvasia Puntinata) - At first look this 500-year-old estate seems very terrestrial. The winery burrows into a hillside, tunnels wind deep into the earth, exposing tasting rooms, a dining area, large functional spaces where concrete tanks of Malvasia and Cesanese age in cool silence. But on top of the hill, Malvasia Puntinata (Puntinata means dotted, or speckled) vines are growing in close proximity to the Tyrrhenian Sea. The coast is 10 km away, you can feel the breeze, and detect the salinity it imparts in this bottling. It took half a millennium, but Rome has reached Torre in Pietra’s doorstep. A century ago Filippo Antonelli’s family estate was primarily a dairy farm. Today scruffy suburbs surround it. Planes destined for the airport in Fiumicino buzz south with some frequency (or at least they did until March). Torre in Pietra is certified organic. This delicate white wine is my favorite of their line-up. I consider it an all-purpose, must-have pantry staple, excellent with butter fish, flounder, calamari, many others.

Paolo Petrilli Motta del Lupo Rosato (Nero di Troia) - Paolo introduced me to the universe of Rome’s alimentari with a trip to Gargani Parioli, where all the provisions necessary to live a happy life jostle for your attention in a long narrow shop smaller than your average Starbucks. I gravitated to the preserved fish, of course, jars and tins filled with anchovies, sardines, octopus, tuna, so many more things. While my mind is mostly filled with the promise of perfectly fresh, just-caught local seafood, it’s handy to have a stash of conservas in your pantry for a rainy day. Someday I will can my own N.C. tuna. A perfect meal with Paolo’s certified organic, lean and citrussy rosato is a salad that’s mostly the season’s best bitter leafy greens, topped with fresh tomatoes and olives, alongside as many cans of tinned fish as you can muster. 

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Let’s EAT!

 
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