"live fast, die young, leave a wonderful memory"
tisdag 5 november 2013
fredag 1 november 2013
You all know where you read it first
So, I guess you know you're bang on trend when wine guru Eric Asimov of the New York Times agrees with you. I am, of course, speaking of my solid defense of the wine menu. If you haven't read his blog post at The Pour, you can find it here.
My position has been that pairings are not the way to go on a tasting menu: too expensive and too passive. But my curmudgeonly stance has changed, or at least evolved. This is partly because I’ve now been to enough restaurants that apply the same unleashed minds to the beverage pairings that they do to the food. If the idea is to give yourself over to the chef, why not to the sommelier? Double the dazzle. - Eric AsimovThe fabulous thing about being human is that one has ample opportunity to change one's mind. We do this for various reasons, but in this day and age when pushing the envelope is a requirement for keeping one's clientele entertained enough to return and new patrons intrigued enough to venture in, new experiences are pushing that very change.
This strategy is not without dangers. It requires the sommelier to dance to the same fervidly imaginative tune as the chef while accepting the notion that the food is the star. The pairings must support and enhance, never dominate. It’s a team effort, and it can yield epiphanies. - Eric AsimovCurrent trends see chefs worshiped like rock stars, with TV show after TV show dedicated to following the minutiae of their lives and their profession. I predict that the next big thing will be following sommeliers and their waitstaff, who also know one or two things about sparkle, fizz and sharp blades, and no less than any chef about the rock 'n roll lifestyle. After all, the restaurant can't run without us, no matter how skilled the chef. We're half the experience, half the skill, half the drama. Kitchen and service combined is an organism in of itself, and certainly more than the sum of its parts.
onsdag 23 oktober 2013
Bye bye wine list? Says who?
I inhabit two very different worlds. As a scientist I work with objective facts, and the unbiased interpretation of results of repeated experimentation. Nothing could be farther from the restaurant world, where sometimes the only fact left standing after a heated discussion is that you and I have different opinions. The subjectivity of taste is part of what makes the job so very exciting, and so very subject to trend. Understanding that taste differs not only from person to person but also changes with age, region, upbringing, previous experience and a million other endless variables is essential for success in this business. Therefore, I was quite surprised by Daniel Crespi's article in the latest White Paper, which I normally enjoy reading, titled "Bye bye vinlista" (Bye bye wine-list), where he laments the "laziness" of restaurants serving wine menus instead of "allowing" and encouraging "ignorant and frightened" customers to buy whole bottles of wine. His point is that he has found wine menus to be sub par, with restaurants "charging 250 kr for a glass of fino" and that one somehow gets more "value" and taste for ones hard-earned coins by opting for whole bottles (or half bottles, but how he equates that with better value for money I cannot fathom. Maybe it was a typo).
He starts off the article by stating that he thinks that it might only be himself and a few other wine buffs that appreciate the opportunity to delve into tome-like wine lists, "regardless of which restaurant" he finds himself in. I think, in fact, that he might be completely and utterly alone in that behavior. I've wandered in to many a "better" restaurant with seemingly endless cellar storage capabilities where the wine list might as well be cut from the product catalogues of their suppliers. The extent of the wine list itself adds no particular joy, in my case, to my evening because I don't normally go to a restaurant to spend 45 uncommunicative minutes perusing my "options". In fact, I know no wine buffs who get their kicks from reading restaurant wine menus. A statistically significant proportion of people I have spoken to about this (an unbiased group, including wine collectors, people in the beverage and restaurant business, and people who just eat out every so often) said something along the lines of "ain't that what one uses the internet for?".
I'm going to take that notion and run with it. People use the internet for several reasons, one being finding facts. Or asking for advice. Not only will you find almost every single wine ever made somewhere on the net, if reading names, dates and prices is what gets you going, but the internet will also tell you what the bottle tastes like, where it came from, how the wine was produced. And, if you're lucky, what other people thought of it. In short, just about all the things you want a sommelier for. The one reason my wine waiter colleagues and myself have not been replaced by an app in actual restaurant locations is that the chef is still a real person too. We also still serve real food, made from actual biological plants and animals. Speaking for Bloom, the produce we serve is non-GMO, so taste, size and appearance may vary. The same goes for the wines - as most are natural, ecologically produced, some are even unfiltered. Although I'm sure some clever engineer somewhere could make a scanning mechanism and an algorithm taking all of this into account - we're still in a job because we're trained in the art of modulating, enhacing, producing and delivering taste.
Mr Crespi is of the opinion that Swedes do not know a lot about taste, or rather tasting, as he feels that we simply go get what we're told (in this case wine menus) as opposed to in fact ordering what we want, presumably because we're "afraid" of being "wrong". I don't quite know where he's been working for the last couple of years, but my experience is rather the opposite, with highly demanding customers asking for steak in sushi restaurants and meatballs with spaghetti at the local tapas bar. Or, in our case specifically, vegan LCHF afternoon tea with zero dosage champagne to boot.
Speaking for myself, the reason I don't order a bottle of wine when I go out is that I don't normally drink a whole bottle of wine. With anything. I can't - or, rather, I could, but I'm sure IOGT-NTO would have a thing or two to say about that sort of behavior - and I don't really know anyone that can. Even when I'm dining in company, it's very seldom practically possible to order a whole bottle - the last time I was dining out in a party of eight, only two people managed to agree to drink the same thing - and that was only for one course, and certainly not including the sweet wine for dessert. I almost always (the only real exception being when I'm the designated driver) choose the wine menu option, not only because it's practical, but also because if it's a sommelier worth his or her salt they'll probably know their wines better than what I can surmise from reading names and prices off a list, and thus help me pair my wine with my dinner. In my experience, this does not at all mean that if my preference is for dry white wines that the wine menu can't be adapted. Or that if all I ever drink (for health reasons, obviously...) is first-growth Bordeaux that the wine menu can't incorporate my wishes. In fact, we have kind customers, who in the same way as if they had complicated dietary requirements, call ahead and let us know that they only want Piemonte wines for their birthday dinner. I really suggest that the next time Mr Crespi disappointingly finds that he's been overcharged for a glass of fino as a part of a wine menu, that he asks to have it replaced or speak to the manager. I know I would have - and we certainly make no fuss if we ever have a customer who wants a different wine from what we've served. I wonder what Mr Crespi would have done were we not speaking about wine, but rather an over-done steak? Would he not have sent it back? I suggest he buck up and speak up the next time he's served something sub-standard - the quality of the wine menu from one sloppy restaurant surely should not suggest to anyone that we do away with the concept all together.
Also, I'm very surprised that this is something that, as a restaurateur, Mr Crespi feels is good business policy when it comes to customer service. Sure, we have MUCH higher margins on bottle-purchases. But for me, both as a sommelier with a budget to meet and as a keen restaurant-goer, the ends don't justify the means. I find that customers would much rather purchase another glass of wine off the wine menu (i.e. ask for a refill) if the wine menu was done well than if they've bought a bottle that didn't quite go with the cheese course. Mr Crespi argues that Swedes don't know what wine goes with what, but I would argue that they do - the important part is not knowing labels or vintages, but to know if you liked the taste of the wine you just drank. The way I can tell, you see, as a practicing sommelier, is if the glass is empty by the end of the course. And there are, trust me, a lot of half-full glasses by the end of dessert when a bottle of Brunello was ordered. And that principle, believe it or not, is one of the saving graces of Systembolaget, namely the symbol system which Mr Crespi so casually derides. If Mr Crespi has spoken to foreign wine merchants, especially the British, he would know that the Systembolaget symbol system is Sweden's most lauded contribution to the beverage business. Instead of simply providing the names and prices, there is an instant product accessibility to everyone with the food pairing symbols and the brief tasting note descriptions. I don't know how many years it has been since Mr Crespi actually served wine in a restaurant, but from my own current experience, the most commonly asked questions from customers ordering wine per glass (or even a whole bottle!) is "what does it taste like?" or "will it go with my food?". I know it can be tedious to explain over and over that the Chablis is a dry white wine and is excellent with seafood, Sir, good choice, but that's just part of the job description. If one follows the rest of the job description to a tee, the customer will come back, and possibly ask for the same wine, or maybe another. In case of the latter, I will have to tell the customer about the new wine, perhaps teaching him or her something. In any effect, doing my job and providing good service will result in better accessibility to good wines, customers better educated about food and wine and all around better business.
This is a very long post, and I've tried to keep it as civil as possible. But you can imagine, if you know me, the kind of anger this kind of upwards-condescention invokes in my sommelier heart. Wine menus are popular because they are functional and versatile, and because they are what the customer wants. Not because the customer is ignorant of wine, but because the customer is dining out, purchasing the dining experience that is the product of the expertise of the sommelier and the chef, and is thereby relying on their knowledge and taste. The extensive list of what a restaurant has in its cellar is not primarily for spur-of-the-moment orders (oh, I feel like an -88 Chateau D'Yquem with dessert, what the hell), but for range of options, for planning purposes and for further inspiration. I suggest that the next time Mr Crespi goes out to dine, he spend less time perusing the wine list and more time speaking to his dining companions. And should he spy a tempting bottle on the menu, why not pipe up and ask for it to be incorporated into his wine menu for the evening. We're a service industry, I'm sure the sommelier would be all too happy to oblige.
He starts off the article by stating that he thinks that it might only be himself and a few other wine buffs that appreciate the opportunity to delve into tome-like wine lists, "regardless of which restaurant" he finds himself in. I think, in fact, that he might be completely and utterly alone in that behavior. I've wandered in to many a "better" restaurant with seemingly endless cellar storage capabilities where the wine list might as well be cut from the product catalogues of their suppliers. The extent of the wine list itself adds no particular joy, in my case, to my evening because I don't normally go to a restaurant to spend 45 uncommunicative minutes perusing my "options". In fact, I know no wine buffs who get their kicks from reading restaurant wine menus. A statistically significant proportion of people I have spoken to about this (an unbiased group, including wine collectors, people in the beverage and restaurant business, and people who just eat out every so often) said something along the lines of "ain't that what one uses the internet for?".
I'm going to take that notion and run with it. People use the internet for several reasons, one being finding facts. Or asking for advice. Not only will you find almost every single wine ever made somewhere on the net, if reading names, dates and prices is what gets you going, but the internet will also tell you what the bottle tastes like, where it came from, how the wine was produced. And, if you're lucky, what other people thought of it. In short, just about all the things you want a sommelier for. The one reason my wine waiter colleagues and myself have not been replaced by an app in actual restaurant locations is that the chef is still a real person too. We also still serve real food, made from actual biological plants and animals. Speaking for Bloom, the produce we serve is non-GMO, so taste, size and appearance may vary. The same goes for the wines - as most are natural, ecologically produced, some are even unfiltered. Although I'm sure some clever engineer somewhere could make a scanning mechanism and an algorithm taking all of this into account - we're still in a job because we're trained in the art of modulating, enhacing, producing and delivering taste.
Mr Crespi is of the opinion that Swedes do not know a lot about taste, or rather tasting, as he feels that we simply go get what we're told (in this case wine menus) as opposed to in fact ordering what we want, presumably because we're "afraid" of being "wrong". I don't quite know where he's been working for the last couple of years, but my experience is rather the opposite, with highly demanding customers asking for steak in sushi restaurants and meatballs with spaghetti at the local tapas bar. Or, in our case specifically, vegan LCHF afternoon tea with zero dosage champagne to boot.
Speaking for myself, the reason I don't order a bottle of wine when I go out is that I don't normally drink a whole bottle of wine. With anything. I can't - or, rather, I could, but I'm sure IOGT-NTO would have a thing or two to say about that sort of behavior - and I don't really know anyone that can. Even when I'm dining in company, it's very seldom practically possible to order a whole bottle - the last time I was dining out in a party of eight, only two people managed to agree to drink the same thing - and that was only for one course, and certainly not including the sweet wine for dessert. I almost always (the only real exception being when I'm the designated driver) choose the wine menu option, not only because it's practical, but also because if it's a sommelier worth his or her salt they'll probably know their wines better than what I can surmise from reading names and prices off a list, and thus help me pair my wine with my dinner. In my experience, this does not at all mean that if my preference is for dry white wines that the wine menu can't be adapted. Or that if all I ever drink (for health reasons, obviously...) is first-growth Bordeaux that the wine menu can't incorporate my wishes. In fact, we have kind customers, who in the same way as if they had complicated dietary requirements, call ahead and let us know that they only want Piemonte wines for their birthday dinner. I really suggest that the next time Mr Crespi disappointingly finds that he's been overcharged for a glass of fino as a part of a wine menu, that he asks to have it replaced or speak to the manager. I know I would have - and we certainly make no fuss if we ever have a customer who wants a different wine from what we've served. I wonder what Mr Crespi would have done were we not speaking about wine, but rather an over-done steak? Would he not have sent it back? I suggest he buck up and speak up the next time he's served something sub-standard - the quality of the wine menu from one sloppy restaurant surely should not suggest to anyone that we do away with the concept all together.
Also, I'm very surprised that this is something that, as a restaurateur, Mr Crespi feels is good business policy when it comes to customer service. Sure, we have MUCH higher margins on bottle-purchases. But for me, both as a sommelier with a budget to meet and as a keen restaurant-goer, the ends don't justify the means. I find that customers would much rather purchase another glass of wine off the wine menu (i.e. ask for a refill) if the wine menu was done well than if they've bought a bottle that didn't quite go with the cheese course. Mr Crespi argues that Swedes don't know what wine goes with what, but I would argue that they do - the important part is not knowing labels or vintages, but to know if you liked the taste of the wine you just drank. The way I can tell, you see, as a practicing sommelier, is if the glass is empty by the end of the course. And there are, trust me, a lot of half-full glasses by the end of dessert when a bottle of Brunello was ordered. And that principle, believe it or not, is one of the saving graces of Systembolaget, namely the symbol system which Mr Crespi so casually derides. If Mr Crespi has spoken to foreign wine merchants, especially the British, he would know that the Systembolaget symbol system is Sweden's most lauded contribution to the beverage business. Instead of simply providing the names and prices, there is an instant product accessibility to everyone with the food pairing symbols and the brief tasting note descriptions. I don't know how many years it has been since Mr Crespi actually served wine in a restaurant, but from my own current experience, the most commonly asked questions from customers ordering wine per glass (or even a whole bottle!) is "what does it taste like?" or "will it go with my food?". I know it can be tedious to explain over and over that the Chablis is a dry white wine and is excellent with seafood, Sir, good choice, but that's just part of the job description. If one follows the rest of the job description to a tee, the customer will come back, and possibly ask for the same wine, or maybe another. In case of the latter, I will have to tell the customer about the new wine, perhaps teaching him or her something. In any effect, doing my job and providing good service will result in better accessibility to good wines, customers better educated about food and wine and all around better business.
This is a very long post, and I've tried to keep it as civil as possible. But you can imagine, if you know me, the kind of anger this kind of upwards-condescention invokes in my sommelier heart. Wine menus are popular because they are functional and versatile, and because they are what the customer wants. Not because the customer is ignorant of wine, but because the customer is dining out, purchasing the dining experience that is the product of the expertise of the sommelier and the chef, and is thereby relying on their knowledge and taste. The extensive list of what a restaurant has in its cellar is not primarily for spur-of-the-moment orders (oh, I feel like an -88 Chateau D'Yquem with dessert, what the hell), but for range of options, for planning purposes and for further inspiration. I suggest that the next time Mr Crespi goes out to dine, he spend less time perusing the wine list and more time speaking to his dining companions. And should he spy a tempting bottle on the menu, why not pipe up and ask for it to be incorporated into his wine menu for the evening. We're a service industry, I'm sure the sommelier would be all too happy to oblige.
torsdag 17 oktober 2013
Forces combined (such as in espresso and gelato)
Victoria and I traveled to Valpolicella last weekend with one of our importers. We had an amazing time touring vineyards and sampling wines. For me, it was amazing to travel with Vicky, not only because she's one of my closest friends and co-workers, but also because she's trained as a chef before becoming a wine waiter. Some of you may remember my last trip of this kind where I went to Ribera del Duero in Spain. Myself and another one of our importers traveled alone, and we were shown around by an export manager who was also a sommelier. The discussions we had about the wines we tasted were excellent and very in-depth, but also very wine-focused. For example, when comparing tasting notes, we'd see phrases such as "minerally" or "buttery" or "full-bodied" or "oaky". You get it, your average sommelier-speak. I came back burbling about ageability and drinkability, and differences in terroir and fermentation. Which is what I was supposed to do, don't get me wrong. But tasting with Vicky not only includes discussion of the effects of Slavonic versus French oak, but also pure flavor. Now I know that specific smells and tastes are highly subjective, but for our purposes it's still a highly relevant discussion to have. If we found ourselves noting blackberry on the palate, what dishes would go with that? During what season would we serve this? In what order would we serve the wines, at, say, a winemakers dinner in early spring based on the seasonal produce available? It's not normally my domain, as I usually try to entertain myself by trying to blindly identify grapes during these trips, but it was really fun and I think we both came away feeling that we'd not only scouted several excellent wines which you'll be able to drink at Bloom as soon as we can import them, but we'd also learned a lot about the local "flavor profile", if you will. Sometimes I think that one only truly understands a wine if one has tried it in its place of origin.
(lots and lots of great Valpolicella wine!)
We had some time to wander around Verona as well. We came away about a million shots of espresso taken, a few litres of gelato eaten, lots of Prosecco, Brunello di Montalcino, Barbera d'Alba drunk, and copious amounts of pizza, pasta, risotto, truffle, mozzarella, bresaola, parma ham eaten eaten and one pair of hideously expensive high-heeled boots (despite the limitations on our luggage!) richer. We sort of felt like we'd found ourselves again after a summer and autumn of hard work. Then we wandered in to this place, and literally found ourselves:
Hilarious!
söndag 29 september 2013
Doctored
There has been silence here for a bit. It's not because I haven't been working at the restaurant, but rather because almost all my creative energy has been spent writing my doctoral thesis. But now, as of Friday afternoon, I'm a Ph.D. All the restaurant was invited to my thesis defense and, of course, we celebrated at Bloom. Pictured is the absolutely epic cake made by Titti and André and decorated by the very artistic Debbie (someone suggested, after quite a few glasses of champagne, that the cake was probably misspelled and meant to say "Smart ass Dr Taylor"...). After having given myself Saturday off, Vicky and I ran Afternoon Tea as usual today. And yes, the joke in vogue is to run into the kitchen yelling "Dr Taylor to table 5, paging Dr Taylor to table 5".
This is not the end of my working at Bloom. I love the job and I love my co-workers (well, mostly.... haha), and I don't think I could live without it. So, I'll be around - lending scientific credibility to the service. I might be a statistical improbability, but hey - what would science (and life) be without the outliers?
XO
/ LT
fredag 15 mars 2013
Pontificating
Well, we can't exactly pretend we couldn't see it coming.
When the pope resigned we tried to convince Igi that he should run for the spot. He refused, which struck us all as a bit strange (I mean, wearing that funny hat and preaching to the converted - who does it better than Igi?).
Now we know why. The new pope is a Jesuit. For those of you who do not know, the Jesuits swear obedience to St Ignatius. Also, he speaks Spanish.
Something tells me there's going to be a lot of white smoke rising from the Bloom chimney in the future....
When the pope resigned we tried to convince Igi that he should run for the spot. He refused, which struck us all as a bit strange (I mean, wearing that funny hat and preaching to the converted - who does it better than Igi?).
Now we know why. The new pope is a Jesuit. For those of you who do not know, the Jesuits swear obedience to St Ignatius. Also, he speaks Spanish.
Something tells me there's going to be a lot of white smoke rising from the Bloom chimney in the future....
måndag 4 mars 2013
Crossing our fingers and holding our thumbs...
...knocking on wood and all other manner of supposed luck-bringing activities are happening at Pildammsvägen 17 today, as we're hoping to take home Årets Vinupplevelse at the White Guide Gala tonight! So, if you have a good lucky charm, hold on tight tonight!
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