THE LITTLE BLACK BOTTLE
The “little black dress” is a classic piece, versatile, even timeless. Likewise, in the wine world, wines in “little black bottles” are classic wines that mix and match with various foods with aplomb—the kinds of wines that you want to have around all the time and for every meal, including Thanksgiving Day dinner.
On Thanksgiving, we eat the one meal of the year where pretty much anything goes—into your mouth.
No crazier patchwork of an American dinner exists than that on Thanksgiving Day: two (or more) types of tuber, the orangish one often topped with teeth-singing melted marshmallow; stuffing that may contain anything from cornmeal to oysters, sausage to walnuts; soups, sauces, salads; cranberries in two (or more) ways; vegetables in a prism of colors, some doused with canned soup; white meat, dark meat both; desserts of ascending degrees of sweetness; and Aunt Hortense and her three pre-prandial apricot sours.
I overheard Wine say, just the other day, “Where do—where can—I fit in?”
You will receive all manner of advice—from friends, merchants, wine writers, your shrink—who will tell you to “just go ahead, have any wine that you like.” Nice handholding, but hogwash, and a disservice to both you and Thanksgiving dinner.
Because the issue is “liking.” The human palate doesn’t “like” a, say, lean dry white wine with marshmallowed sweet potatoes or cranberry jelly. Foods so sweet make non-sweet wines taste tinny or harsh. (Imagine it this way: would you drink a Mâcon-Villages, a bracingly dry white from Burgundy, with vanilla ice cream?)
USA all the way?
Or you won’t like—even if you “like” it in other contexts—a jam-like, 16 percent alcohol-by-volume Zinfandel (often called “the American grape for the American feast”) with the range of Thanksgiving Day foods. Zinfandels such as those are made for a platter of live bear. Period. It’s a niche wine.
Flavor match?
The catchall Gewurztraminer because “it is spicy”? Wine isn’t ketchup.
Special occasion?
Oh, and then the humanity, the humanity, guys all barrel-breasted uncorking their dear (and dear) California Chardonnay or super Tuscan because Thanksgiving Dinner is “a special occasion.”
Nah.
Special occasion, flavor match, flag-waving—these don’t matter to wine on Turkey Day. Wine just wants to taste delicious, but it can’t easily given a meal such as this.
Switch gears here with me for a moment. What is the single piece of apparel that the smart, sophisticated, well-dressed woman always has in her closet? The little black dress. (For a fella, maybe it’s a dark blue blazer.)
It’s a classic piece, versatile, even timeless. Likewise, in the wine world, there are classic wines that mix and match with various foods with aplomb. These are the kinds of wines that you want to have around all the time and for every meal, including Thanksgiving Day dinner.
The little black bottle
Why? Above all, wines in “little black bottles” are versatile with an enormous range of food preparations and types of cuisine. They truly do go with nearly anything.
I like to imagine that all the food in the world is in one giant, tall building and that I am in the lobby waiting for an elevator to whisk me up and through the building’s many floors. Remember those sundial-like indicators over the elevator doors, where the arrow would sweep back and forth to tell you where the elevator was? For marriages of wine and food, I follow it.
On the first floor of this building are eats such as chicken tenders poached in water. The wine that goes with that is cheap Italian Pinot Grigio. (Even so, I would serve Evian because it has more flavor.) And on the top floor is live bear, the 16 percent Zinfandel department.
In between is all else: vegetable and fruit dishes, white meats, pink meats, all the red meats and chewy things, the spices, the chilies, everything.
What I want, then, both for my palate and my pocketbook, are wines that sweep, like the lobby elevator’s arrow, as many floors as possible.
Vinho Verde from Portugal or off-dry riesling from Germany or Washington that can get me all the way to veal or grilled mushrooms; perfumed Pinot Noir that can go from salmon or swordfish and climb plenty of floors; sparkling wines (as long as they’re well made, best in the “Champagne method”) for a clink of the glass from nearly bottom to top.
These kinds of wines!
Sauvignon Blanc from Bordeaux, sparkling dry Rosé, a red Mondeuse from the Savoie—these are the kinds of wines that pair with all sorts of foods, such as the hodgepodge of Thanksgiving Day dinner.
Drier, leaner reds and whites that marry food successfully have humble flavor profiles and moderate alcohol. They sit back and let the flavors and textures of the food play against them. Village-level Chablis, for example, or a Mâcon-Villages; a good Grüner Veltliner, the ever ready rosé. Rioja reds can climb; so, too, some smooth Chilean cabernets.
Watch out for clumsy, oafish wines that come loaded up with alcohol, tannin and oak. All they'll do is impress your guests (the wrong way), heighten the sensations of salt in your cooking and tire the palates of all those seated around your table.