Sunday Night Dinner: I Promise No Hannibal Lecter Jokes
Note: This dinner did take place on a Sunday. i’m as suprised as you are.
If time is money, than buying fava beans to prepare is doubly expensive. Getting them prepared to even begin cooking is a labor of love. There is a lot of sitting and peeling involved, a sort of sewing circle rythm gets going if there is more than one person working on it (hopefully accompanied by some Art Blakey) for what seems like a minimal amount of food. The results themselves are minimal, in a way, in my experience fava beans lend themselves to uncomplicated dishes that emphasize the flavor of the favas, rather then try to blend them in with unnecessary flavors (Roman style favas, where they are highlighted by some pancetta and little else is perhaps the pinnacle of this simplicity of flavor).
So with the fava beans slowly cooking i went in search of a wine that fit the spirit of this dish, a straightforward fresh sort of wine that really drinks on a purely pleasurable level. What i found was a bottle of Chateau d’Oupia Minervois rose. A blend of some grapes grown in the south of France (who really cares what they are, unless you’re allergic to one of them), this is an example of winemaking at it’s cleanest, most exuberant. It’s the type of wine that you drink out of a water glass on a hot summer day (that’s a compliment by the way i abhor heavy or overpriced roses). With the fava bean pasta this felt very “spring” despite the unseasonably cold weather here (you can tell i’m a Californian when this weather is “cold”).
Sometimes it feels as though this blog is becoming some kind of hybrid food and wine blog, instead of just a wine focused blog. That is ok with me. i find it harder and harder these days to write about wine without the context of food, just like i find it harder and harder to drink wine without food. i hope you’re liking it.
Last week i had some molten cake that was delicious and i forgot to mention it here.
From what i hear fava beans were a better way to spend my time than the LOST finale.
Art Blakey has been on my mind lately: