Antiquated Fixtures of Wine
Wine artifacts and customs from the past
By Josh Perilo
“Her name was Mara Palmer,” instructed Artemus in his genteel Southern drawl, “and she was a Bulgarian Aristocrat.”
“And this thing she had,” I said, “it was like an antenna?”
“It was a swizzle stick. A Champagne swizzle stick. It was made by Dunhill.”
Artemus described again, in detail, the odd contraption that this fascinating Mara (who sounded like a character from a Raymond Chandler novel) would use whenever she drank sparkling wine. A small, silver cylinder encased a set of prongs. When extended, the prongs would be inserted into the glass of Champagne and twirled quickly. Read more
New York Loses a Treasure
Ristorante Primavera was one of a kind
By Josh Perilo
I was heading home from the bodega with a bag of ice cream and beer tucked under my arm when I saw the limo pull up at the end of my block. Out stepped Mayor Bloomberg. Just earlier that day he had won the right to run for a third consecutive term and he was clearly out to celebrate. Read more
Flavorless Wines
Subtle wines that are refreshing and don’t hog Center Stage
By Josh Perilo
Recently, at the restaurant where I serve as wine director, I was clearing out our inventory of old wines and giving away past selections to fellow employees. The head bartender, Jason, took a bottle of a higher end Chardonnay from Oregon called Arcadian “Sleepy Hollow.” It was a full-bodied, rich and buttery wine that was almost a meal by itself. Read more
Patriotic Libations
Some high-quality wines from the original 13 colonies
By Josh Perilo
With the Fourth of July fast approaching, I was given pause to think about the state of our union and the divisiveness that currently seems to hang in the air. While there are always issues being fought over and differences of opinion in this vast country, right now there seems to be more conflict than ever. It is at these times that a holiday like Independence Day holds the most significance. Read more
Winespeak Decoded
Conversing with an oenophile shouldn’t require a translator
By Josh Perilo
“Just tell me how it tastes,” The Doctor said, cutting me off before I launched into my usual exuberant spiel. “And avoid words that have more than three syllables.”
The Doctor was one of our regulars at the wine store. He could be somewhat annoying, in that he only came in for the free tasting every day and never actually purchased anything. You could, however, always rely on him for blunt honesty. If he didn’t like something, he let you know. Read more
‘Oaky’ Is Not a Four-Letter Word
Don’t hate Chardonnays just because you’re supposed to
By Josh Perilo
Sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it until I’m standing in the middle of the supermarket, my voice rising incrementally and bleating: “I don’t care how many viewers it has, I think Family Guy is the un-funniest show that has ever aired on national television!”
Do I really care all that much about Family Guy? No. But for some reason, whenever there’s a consensus about one popular thing being plunked down into a solid “good” or “bad” category, this raises red flags for me and I’ll usually take the opposite position, just to try and even out the score. Read more
Greenmarket Pairings
Warming weather means several things in my household. The chaotic and simultaneous packing/unpacking of the new season’s clothes; the fantasizing (and realistic planning) of our summer vacation; and the farmer’s market around the corner opening up again.
Unlike the Union Square market, our meager outpost is only open from mid-spring to early fall. But the produce is out of this world. In the summer, I switch from the heavier fare that I slave over the stove for hours to cook, to lighter vegetable-based dishes. The less our oven stays on, the cooler our apartment is. Besides that, vegetables, to me, are the flavor of warm weather. Read more
A Drinkable Gift
“Thank you so much,” I strained through gritted teeth.
“Yeah… uh… cool. Where’s your bathroom?”
I held out, at arm’s length, a bottle of bodega wine, 10 degrees warmer than room temperature. Our guest stared blankly at me for a response.
“It’s next to the kitchen,” I replied. “Careful. The handle’s tricky.” Read more
A Fiery Blast of Booze
I raced home from our favorite wine store, bag in hand, excited about what I had just found. I knew Natali would be, too.
“Check it out!” I hollered, holding the bottle over my head like an Oscar award.
“They got it back in!” she said.
It was our favorite Zinfandel, a weekly treat for us. The store had run out, but now they had restocked with the new vintage. I quickly released the cork and poured two small glasses. Read more
Always Room for Grappa
My wife and I sat, stuffed to the gills, in our chairs at Primavera, the famous Upper East Side Italian restaurant. My belly was distended to the point of almost touching the table and a plate that once carried a slab of veal sat empty in front of me. This was a good birthday.
The waiter arrived, tableside, holding a long, thin bottle with a clear liquid inside.
“For the birthday,” he declared, “we pour for both of you a Grappa… on the house.”
Suddenly, I found room in my gullet for something else. Read more
