I was on the Today Show over the weekend, suggesting wines not just for the big Thanksgiving meal but all the other activities that go on this week—parades, football games, recovering after being mashed and jostled at the mall, you name it. The clip isn't up yet, but here's a link to my November column, which was the spur for it.

That got me thinking that I should recommend a few other worthwhile wines to hunt down in the remaining couple of days—affordable bottles that will pair well with a wide range of foods, which is pretty much what Thanksgiving is all about (since turkey itself doesn't taste like a whole heck of a lot).

From Spain's Rias Baixas region, Albariño is a terrific food wine, crisp and refreshing, with a kind of saline minerality and juicy citrus notes. I was there recently, and among the wines I liked were the fragrant, focused 2007 Pazo San Mauro Albariño ($17 or so) and the complex, stony 2007 Do Ferreiro Albariño ($22 or so, find this wine). Another good white option would be the 2007 Hugel & Fils Gewurztraminer($18 or so, find this wine). It's less florid and in-your-face than many Alsace Gewurzes, instead dry and crisp with a little white pepper note at the finish.

I also tasted through a heap of California Chardonnays the other day, with almost universally disheartening results. Most of them seemed blocky and blob-like, with too much oak and too much alcohol—the kind of wine that beats up your food rather than partnering with it. But, for a splurge, I did find the 2007 Lynmar Quail Hill Vineyard Chardonnay ($35) extremely impressive, its clean peach character succulent and inviting, with soft creamy lees and oak spice notes. 

In reds, a couple of recent discoveries in the tasting room were the 2007 Pulenta Estate Cabernet Sauvignon ($25), a lush mouthful of blackberry fruit from Argentina with just enough light herbal character to keep it from being a fruit-bomb, and the 2006 Mazzoni Toscana Rosso ($16, find this wine), a firm-spined, tart, cherry-inflected blend of 72% Sangiovese and 28% Merlot from, well, Tuscany. As the name suggests. 

Finally, you have to have a value pick for turkey-day, and this year I'm in favor of the 2007 Vinum Cellars PETS Petite Sirah ($13 or so, find this wine). It's smoky and toasty, with that classic dark, spicy Petite Sirah fruit—think of a melange of blueberries, black plums and blackberries. Very drinkable, and a good deal, too.  

Writer Christian DeBenedetti reported on San Diego’s craft-beer scene in F&W’s June issue. He recently returned to San Diego to attend the city’s first-ever Beer Week, with 300 events held in 40 bars, 45 restaurants and five hotels. Here, his highlights:

* At Lost Abbey’s Barrel Night, 150 guests gathered to taste 10 rare, uncarbonated ales that had been aging in oak barrels. The ales were paired with beer-friendly foods like seared pork belly on crispy brussels sprouts and mussels steamed in beer.

* Several guest brewmasters were on hand for Q&As and tastings. Colby Chandler of Ballast Point discussed why San Diego has suddenly leaped to the forefront of America’s craft-beer scene. His theory: “Ambitious home brewers in the 1980s and '90s helped spur the rise of commercial brewing in the area, which in turn has inspired a new generation of artisanal producers.”

* At 1500 Ocean, a restaurant at Coronado Island’s historic Hotel Del Coronado, chef Brian Sinnott created dishes to match distinctive local beers from Ballast Point, Lost Abbey and Coronado. Among the most successful pairings: Lost Abbey’s earthy-yet-tangy, orange-hued, 6.5-percent-alcohol, saison-style Carnevale Ale with braised chicken oysters (two small, round pieces of dark meat on the back of a bird, near the thigh) served piccata style.

 

I’m always impressed by the quality of London’s hotel bars. During my stay there last year,  I spent most nights going back and forth between the Connaught hotel’s Connaught bar and Coburg bar (the latter recently introduced an amazing Bordeaux trolley). This year, I found a superfun pre-theater scene at the glamorous Lobby Bar of One Aldwych. The bar is known for its eclectic art, particularly an oversize bronze sculpture of a rower that towers over guests, as well as its great cocktails. They had just introduced an impressive new cocktail list that includes 63 drinks, both classics and wild concoctions like a Gazpacho Martini, made from lemon-infused gin spiced with sweet green pepper, cucumber, Midori and elderflower. I’m a traditionalist, so I ordered the G&T Martini, a glamorized gin and tonic made with homemade tonic syrup, the delicious new Beefeater 24 gin and lemon twist. There’s also a fancy bar-food menu that offers light snacks (hummus, tzatziki and Lebanese flatbread) or indulgent ones (braised pork belly with teriyaki sauce).

Last year, I was one of a supersmall group of journalists and brewers invited to the Brewers Association’s first-ever craft-beer dinner at NYC’s Gramercy Tavern. This year's dinner was even more spectacular. Some highlights:

New Glarus Brewing is legendary for its hard-to-obtain beers. Stories circulated around the table about attempts to smuggle them across the Wisconsin/Illinois border. We had the rare chance to try their seasonal Wisconsin Cran-bic. This is exactly what I’d want to pour with my first course at Thanksgiving dinner.

Scott Vaccaro of Captain Lawrence Brewing in Pleasantville, NY, brought his intense, dark, malty, bourbon-barrel-aged Nor’Easter Winter Warmer to pair with our cheese course.

The Twelve XII from Firestone Walker Brewing in Paso Robles, California, is one of the most complex beers I’ve ever tasted. Brewmaster Matt Brynildson enlisted area winemakers to assist in the blending of component beers, some of which spent more than two years aging in a combination of retired bourbon, rye and wine barrels.

I tend to prefer pumpkin in my pie, not my beer. But Lakewood, NY’s Southern Tier Brewing Company has made an extremely drinkable pumpkin beer called Pumking that is meant to be served in a goblet to bring out all of the spicy aromas. It’s full of cinnamon and clove, yet doesn’t have any cloying sweetness, and was brilliant with poached lobster served with turnips, daikon and lobster-squash sauce.

David Katleski, founder of Empire Brewing in Syracuse, NY , surprised us with a growler of what he’s calling White Aphro, a supposedly aphrodisiacal brew made from ginger, lavender and honey. The jury is out on whether it really works.

I finally made it to Boston this weekend so that I could grab a stool at Barbara Lynch's newest spots, Sportello and Drink. The dishes at bright, modern Sportello was the sort of homey, upscale comfort food found at all of Lynch's restaurants. A simple salad of thinly shaved fennel and batons of celery was fresh and crisp and all of the pastas were expertly cooked-the highlight of which was the rich, sweet pantacce (a wide, short noodle) with pork cheeks, parsnips and quince.

But the real standout for me was a wine that we had. Our server steered us towards the 1998 Martilde Ghiro d'Inverno Bonarda from northwestern Italy's Lombardia region, and I'm glad we followed her lead. Its black fruit had mellowed nicely thanks to its age, but what was particularly striking was its distinct earthiness—flavors ranging anywhere from soil to mushrooms—which also made it perfect match to a bowl of pasta made with toasty chestnut flour with whole roasted chestnuts strewn throughout.

After dinner, we headed downstairs to Lynch's enormous—and packed—bar, Drink. It was rather astounding to watch three bartenders expeditiously serving excellent cocktails to 90-some thirsty guests. For our part, we probably enjoyed a few too many of the cocktails, but we ended the night off with a liqueur glass of and exceptionally intriguing Chartreuse Milk Punch called Vert Poinçon de Lait, developed by Drink bartender Scott Marshall. Marshall was inspired by a recipe he found in a cocktail book published in 1827 for "Oxford Nightcaps." The original recipe calls for rum and cognac, but Marshall traded those for viscose Batavia-Arrack and spicy green and yellow Chartreuse. Since the drink's complicated to make—and the recipe makes a gallon at a time—it's worth a detour at Drink to try it. It's a terrific digestif, or, as a nightcap, will ensure sweet or possibly surreal dreams.

 

Last night I attended a phenomenal craft-beer dinner at NYC’s Gramercy Tavern (more on that later in a tomorrow's post). The brewers at the table got to talking about the most exciting beer innovations and innovators around the globe. One name that got dropped was England’s Alastair Hook, the founder and brewmaster of Meantime Brewing. I  repeatedly came across this brand on my recent trip to London. Hook recently brewed a limited-edition (2,000+ bottles) Scotch ale especially for the American market; it will be available around the new year. He used a recipe he created at the request of the late beer genius Michael Jackson. A Scotch ale is a style of beer brewed at a lower temperature than an English ale and cask conditioned for six-to-eight weeks to develop a gorgeous, roasty malt flavor. Here’s where to look for Scotch Ale, and Meantime’s other great brews, in the U.S.

El Chaltén is Argentina's youngest city, placed near the Chilean border in 1985 by the government to beat its rival country to the land claim. The place still feels like a frontier town, with packs of wild dogs patrolling the streets, but in one key way it's very urban: La Cervecería. The female brewmaster here crafts two types of beer (bock and pilsner) using traditional Bohemian recipes and techniques. After hiking to nearby Laguna Torre at a grueling pace, we stopped in for celebratory brews. The bock was malty and slightly sweet—light for a bock but still a little heavy for me, post-hike—while the pilsner clearly hit the spot: light and refreshing.

Hanging out in the heart of NYU territory in Manhattan—not something I usually do. But here’s a great reason to start: the wine program at the now-actually-opened Bar Henry on West Houston Street. John Slover, whom I love from his days at Cru (the restaurant with the country’s best wine list), had the genius idea to offer any of the 100 wines on his market list by the half-bottle. He pours it into one of his nifty half-bottle decanters, serves it for half the price of the whole bottle, then offer the rest of the bottle as a by-the-glass selection for the rest of the night. That means you can get half a bottle of the 2005 Roulot Luchets Meursault for $63, if you don’t want the whole thing for $125. (He’s even offering the program for half-bottles: the 2006 Talbott Sleepy Hollow Chardonnay is $39; $20 if you’re drinking only half of the 375 ml bottle.) Slover has a separate reserve list that’s not part of that policy, though, which means you’ll have to drink that whole bottle of 1996 Krug yourself.

Interesting article on Yahoo today (by way of AFP) about Diageo Chateau & Estates's apparent decision to get out of the Bordeaux market and what's likely to happen to Bordeaux prices as a result. Necessary reading, if you drink or collect Bordeaux!

I've always thought Mai Tais were kind of campy, something fun to have with roast pork shoulder and pineapple. Now I know better. Recently my friend Joe Raffa, a Hawaiian native, mixed the world's greatest Mai Tai from his extensive rum collection. He calls it the $100 Mai Tai because it would cost $100 to buy bottles of all the necessary ingredients. But the drink itself costs much less. And with last week's news about the growing GDP, it seemed ok to post. Especially because it's just so good: caramelly yet tart, smooth yet bright, perfectly balanced — and supersmart (case in point: instead of Cointreau, Joe uses Rhum Clement Creole Shrubb, an orange liqueur made from rhum agricole instead of neutral spirits. "It keeps the rum with the rum," Joe says. And in place of ordinary simple syrup, he uses Depaz cane syrup, a Caribbean sweetener gives the Mai Tai a richer maple note.) The best part, Joe is José Andrés' chef de cuisine at Oyamel in DC, and has been dropping hints that his boss should open a Hawaiian restaurant in DC serving roast pork and really good Mai Tais. All I can say is, José, please, listen up. Recipe after the jump.

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