Virtual Gourmet

CHILD LABOR IN

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IN THIS ISSUE
WHAT MAKES A GOOD BARTENDER?
By John Mariani

NEW YORK CORNER
8282
By John Mariani

ANOTHER VERMEER
CHAPTER 35
By John Mariani

NOTES FROM THE WINE CELLAR
TRAPICHE OF ARGENTINA
By John Mariani

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On this week's episode of my WVOX Radio Show "Almost Golden," on Wed. Sept. 7 at 11AM EDT,I will be interviewing Alex Wilkinson,

author of A Divine Language: Learning Algebra, Geometry, and Calculus at the Edge of Old Age. Go to: WVOX.com. The episode will also be archived at: almostgolden.

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WHAT MAKES A GOOD BARTENDER?
By John Mariani

         There are several kinds of bartenders in the world and most, who just pour shots and draw beer, have little interest in the others, which include those at cocktail bars, hotel bars, restaurant bars, even tiki bars, where the wilder the cocktail the better. (I really don’t remember if Sam Malone (above) ever made cocktails in Cheers.) But the number of truly excellent, which means devoted, bartenders in the world are very few and far between, and those who in the past ten years have adopted the odious sobriquet “mixologist” show more pretense than knowledge about how to make a good drink.
         Aside from at low-end bars, those who cater to a somewhat more sophisticated cocktail crowd require at least the most basic knowledge of bar tending. But I’ve found that, at least in this country, bartenders get lazy and turn out the most popular drinks for their known clientele without giving any thought to others who have different tastes. Martinis—gin or otherwise—are no brainers, despite the absurd lengths some confirmed Martini drinkers go to eschew even the faintest flavor of dry vermouth. How is a bartender to know what a Martini fanatic’s tolerance for vermouth is when he asks for “extra dry”?
        Beyond the Martini, and perhaps the Bloody Mary, which annoys lazy bartenders because it requires at least eight ingredients, an inordinate number of bartenders are ignorant of classic cocktails like the Daiquiri, the Old Fashioned, the Whiskey Sour, the Manhattan and the Rob Roy. Some of this ignorance comes from refusing to squeeze fresh citrus fruits in favor of pre-bottled commercial stuff, more than likely flavored with some kind of sweetener.
        The absence of a good fruit juicer, even a reamer, has gotten endemic in American bars. Forget about finding a muddling utensil to extract the pulp and oils from the fruit. This is why I have printed on the back of my business card the recipe for a Daiquiri—not my Daiquiri, not Hemingway’s Daiquiri, not a frozen Daiquiri, but just a classic daiquiri made with fresh lime juice, sugar or sugar syrup and rum—the kind my father would in his day have readily gotten at any bar in the world.
        What could be simpler? Except that without the instructions on my card (right), at least 75% of bartenders would screw the drink up; some, even though my card specifies fresh juice, just ignore it, while others, whose literacy and eyesight are apparently failing in equal measures, cannot read the words “strain into a Martini glass,” which I accompany with an illustration of a Martini glass. Despite this, I have had lousy daiquiris brought to me on the rocks or in a highball glass.
       I don’t ask that a bartender stock 20 different bourbons, single malt Scotches or Japanese whiskeys behind the bar, or even white, gold and aged rums. But the selection should be judicious and aim to please 90% of customers’ requests. A friend of mine who only wants to drink basic Scotches like Dewar’s, and has no interest in $50-a-pop single malts, has often been given no option. Yet, there will be a dozen different tasteless vodkas on the shelves, along with a pitiful spiced rum with a cackling pirate on the label.
         An increasing number of beautifully produced books for bartenders go overboard in describing the various utensils, shakers, kinds of glassware, bar knife and ice tongs. One new British book by Zoe Burgess, called the Cocktail Cabinet: The art, science and pleasure of mixing the perfect drink, spends 40 pages on such introductory material, which is like telling a football player he needs pads, cleats, helmet and face guard. This same book spends a full page on “Sour becomes our core” and another on “the value of foam,” and contends a classic Bloody Mary should contain pickle juice (!), spiced tomato juice but no horseradish. Not surprising, then, that the authors wholly neglect to inform the reader of the origins of the cocktails under consideration.
     Other books on the shelves spin fantasies of cocktails containing all manner of spices, seasonings and vegetables that, once tasted, cause either palate stress or a quick decision never to order one again.
         There are, of course, bartender schools, but it seems unlikely most American bartenders have ever matriculated at one. Many, of course, are chosen for their looks and sex appeal (see the movies Cocktail and Coyote Ugly: right), or perhaps for their ability to handle drunken customers or those weeping on the bar (see Lost Weekend). Then there’s that grotesque farce of a show Bar Rescue (left), in which a loudmouth named Jon Taffer walks into a bar that is abysmally dysfunctional and within 30 minutes turns it into the Bar at The Ritz.
         It would take me a moment to think of my favorite bartenders in the U.S., but I can easily come up with half a dozen in Europe, where, whether you want to call bartending an “art” or not, the job is considered a true profession perfected over years to serve a guest the best possible drinks, and according to his wishes. Most of these are, for good reason, in hotels in major cities (though one of the best I’ve ever found was in a remote resort in Big Sky, Montana). This seems due to the management’s requisite that the bartender has the same professionalism as any front man within the hotel, which goes for the way the bartender is dressed—by tradition in a white jacket, dark slacks and tie—and groomed. Such people must be affable, never rude, highly informed about their clientele and have a deep knowledge of liquors and wines.
        They can work fast but always carefully, with none of that “when we get slammed on Saturday night, we’re lucky if we can pour a beer right” attitude. Cocktails take a while to make correctly, though these days the newly concocted variants add so many more components as to delay the process as the bartender measures an eyedropper of liquid into a teaspoon.
       Aside from always using good quality house liquors, a good bartender knows that using those godawful hoses that shoot up to a dozen flavored sodas through them is counterproductive to a good drink. Second, a good bartender has a particular skill for obtaining the ice cold temperature that makes an enormous difference. James Bond is right when he asks for his vodka Martinis “shaken not stirred,” for, although shaking may make for a slightly greater degree of dilution, stirring is an improbable way to achieve icy coldness.
       A good bartender keeps a very clean, well-lighted bar, and while he probably has no control over a music playlist, he should try to keep the noise level down in order to encourage conversation of a kind not possible in shots-and-beer joints, singles bars or college taverns.
         A good bartender has to have a keen sense of a guest’s limit and, in the most cordial way, dissuade him or her from further indulging. A bartender is not a bouncer, even if he may need to signal one for a belligerent customer. By the same token, a guest obviously inebriated but quiet or appearing very sad will need a sympathetic ear like that of a confessor who has heard every story and every sin before. A good bartender is a therapist who does not charge $175 an hour.
       If anyone, especially a bartender who wants to up his game, seeks to meet a few who carry on the profession at an Olympic level, I would send them to London, Paris or most hotel bars in Italy. The bar man at The Ritz in London is indeed an inspiration, one who must not only deal with foreigners but with London’s own bewildering social status concerns. In Rome, the barrista may mean the fellow behind the coffee counter who also pours drinks, but also refers to the expert bartender at places like The Hassler, The Grand and The Cavalieri Hilton; in Venice, he will be found at the Gritti Palace and the veterans at Harry’s Bar (right). In Paris, my favorite pro of them all is Colin Peter Field, who has been at The Ritz’s Hemingway Bar for decades and is inextricable from it. His book, The Ritz Paris: Mixing Drinks, A Simple Story (2010) is as much history and lore as it is a guide to making perfect cocktails, each amply described with headnotes. (Colin and I have for years battled over the origins of the Bloody Mary.) He takes notes on every guest who likes one of his creations, which not only helps him recall the drink but the time it was created.
         Colin (left) is a highly literate fellow and a wonderful but discreet raconteur, and he describes in his book what to me is the ideal for a good bartender:

“While cocktail bartenders of the past used to only speak when spoken to, today’s bartender must be both a showman and a host. He must create the moment and keep the show running, just like the host at the Oscars. He must be generous with himself and his own life and offer a divertissement to his clients through his personal experiences, stimulating conversation and interaction. They can thus voluntarily forget their own problems and jump inside a ‘second life’ for the time that they are with him.”

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NEW YORK CORNER

8282

84 Stanton Street
929-837-0360

By John Mariani

      Nothing improves a derelict neighborhood more than a good restaurant. It throws light onto the street, inside there is color and the sound of people having a good time, and sometimes the aromas float out from the open door. Nowhere is this more true than on New York’s Lower East Side, which began in the 19th century as a tenement refuge for immigrants but devolved into a post-war drug-drenched no man’s land.
      Today “Loisaida” teems with life, driven by youth who now feel at ease strolling the streets at any time, and much of that reclamation is owed to the scores of small restaurants like 8282, which for the moment has outdoor seating from which to watch the passing parade of people of enormous diversity and downtown fashion.
         8282 really is a labor of love because Chef Bong Le Jo (formerly at Perry Street and Dovetail) is partnered with his fiancée, Jee Kim (previous owner of Pado). The number refers to South Korea’s country code, +82, as well as a get-it-done phrase that means “quickly.” Their intent is to modernize Korean food, which has become the cuisine of the moment and is far from the predictable (though delicious) brazier-cooked meat menus at traditional Korean restaurants. But it is clear in every bite that Bong’s cooking is wholly Korean inspired, for while Asia food culture shares many flavors, 8282’s bears little resemblance to Chinese, Japanese, Indonesian or Thai.
      It’s a small room of just 33 seats, pleasantly decorated with a small bar to one side. At a peak hour it can be loud butnot so much that conversation is restricted. The service, overseen by Kim, is amiable and everything is explained with a proud fervor. There are, of course, several newly invented cocktails and several sojus, which is a kind of sweet, grain-based sake/vodka.
      The short menu—smartly so for a small kitchen and dining room—is divided into two categories: small plates called Anju, which means food you eat with alcohol, and larger Banju plates meant to be shared. It’s really quite amazing that Bong can incorporate so many disparate elements into each dish without any tasting like another; add to that their vibrant color and rustic plating and it shows care for every detail.
      Among the first items is a colorful spring pea crudo (a word that seems to have knocked sashimi out of the ring) of aged, raw hiramasa (yellowtail) enlivened with a lemon yuzu vinaigrette and topped with very tangy soy pickled pepper, sugar snap peas for texture and pea puree ($19).
       Bluefin tuna tartare ($25) is diced and mixed with a sesame aïoli that gives it a real creaminess and comes with crisp, fried seaweed chips. The fermented cabbage beloved by Koreans called kimchi is made with tomato as part of a salad of red beets and nubbins of house-made burrata, basil, perilla mint and pistachio ($16).
         It’s impossible to resist a dish called “Boneless K.F.C”—fried chicken thighs tossed in a Korean soy garlic sauce, served with a small helping of pickled radish noodles ($16). Littleneck soojebi is a bowl of tender steamed clams ($20), but the real delight is in the potato and pumpkin noodles, butter scallion, ginger and black pepper soy sauce that you wish you had bread with which to sop it all up.
         No menu these days can be without pasta, and 8282’s entry is angel’s hair spaghetti tossed in soy sauce with seaweed, sesame seed crumbs, perilla leaves and oil ($17) that was somewhat bland. It was suggested we add uni, which might have added a briny flavor, but that carried a supplement.
        The subtler spicing of these small plates prepares the palate for stronger flavors in the banju, like the rich, wonderfully gooey dalgalbi kimchee-bap of marinated, stir-fried chicken morsels over kimchi rice laced with cheese and chili paste ($21). You mix the whole thing up, then scoop it out with spoon and fork and find it’s like nothing you’ve tasted before, showing off the chef’s mettle for innovation.
      Jjajang bori-bap is a hefty plate of seared sea scallops over nice, chewy barley mixed in black bean sauce and a distinctive hint of truffle paste ($26). Iberico pork galbi is also a rich dish I’d eat frequently this fall and winter, made of grilled, soy-marinated pork, ssamjang soy paste and roasted broccolini with red pepper vinaigrette ($28).
         A single dessert, called injeolmi ice cream, is composed of layers of vanilla ice cream, Korean multi-grain, honey, and snow flake-like parmesan cheese, which is more a curiosity than anything else.
      How all these components meld together is testament to Bong’s concentration, getting everything in balance yet retaining their individual flavors. It is also a gutsier kind of Korean food than that served at the much praised, very pricey, uptown Atomix. 8282 fits snugly into the Loisaida milieu and does its best to showcase a highly personalized cuisine without the slightest pretense. It’s the kind of place where you look in the window, check the posted menu, look at each other, smile and say, “Let’s go in.” And you will be glad you did.

Open for dinner Wed.-Sun.

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ANOTHER VERMEER

By John Mariani

To read previous chapters of ANOTHER VERMEER, go to the archive

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Zhu Lien Bang—the Bamboo Union, Taiwan

       “So we’re off to Taipei!” Katie announced to David.
            “You pulled it off?” he said. “Dobell went for it?”
            “Only because we haven’t spent much money yet—not nearly as much as on the Capone story. But we—well, I—have to come back with a story that, as Dobell said, will make the reader gasp.”
            “Have you actually arranged to see Shui?”
            “No, but I think John Coleman might intercede and vouch for us. He said Shui wants his story to be told.”
            “I thought you two weren’t speaking.”
            “Well, that might be a problem, but I think John would like to re-connect so he can pick my brain after we get back.”
            “And you’ll let him?”
            “I guess I’ll have to, if he gets us an interview with Shui.”
            David raised his eyebrows. “Doesn’t that compromise your precious journalistic ethics, Ms. Cavuto?”
            “I know, I know,” said Katie, “but it’s not like I’m asking Shui to pay for our tickets or hotel. Let’s just say sometimes you’ve got to work with people who don’t have the same ideals as you do but are basically good people. You never did that while you were a cop?”
            “All the time,” said David, smiling. “But ethics were pretty flexible with the NYPD. Short of beating a confession out of a guy—and that went on, too—we sometimes had to have a working relationship with some guys we wouldn’t otherwise shake hands with.”
            Katie looked glum, so David added, “Listen, Katie. I think you’re one of the most honest, ethical people I’ve ever met. Good Catholic girl, raised right, all that. My respect for the way you work is very high.”
            “And mine for yours,” said Katie, giving him a fake punch in the arm. David wished it had been a peck on the cheek.
            “So let’s pack for China,” she said.
            “First, get the appointment with Shui, then I’ll pack for China.”
            Katie was right about Coleman. He was actually happy she asked for his help and said he’d contact Shui’s people as soon as he got off the phone. By the next morning he had a positive response that Katie and David could see Shui the following Thursday.
            “I owe you one,” said Katie.
            “Just let’s you and I get back on track, okay? Let me know what you find out.”
            Katie immediately felt she should give Coleman something in return, maybe alert him to all the violent attacks on the bidders on her list. But she needed to tell him in a matter-of-fact way, because details were still so vague.
            “By the way, John, have you noticed something strange about what’s going on with the principal bidders?”
            “No, what?”
            “Well, you know Lauden was put into the hospital by a hit-and-run driver. I hear he lost his left arm.”
            “Yeah, run down by a guy who worked for the Chinese embassy, right?”
            “Right. But also, Stepanossky was almost killed when he drove over a land mine in Croatia.”
            “What was he doing in Croatia?”
            “Hunting wild boar. David and the Interpol people think it was either a hit by the Russian government or the Croatians.”
            “Jesus.”
            “Not only that—and I’m telling you this way off the record—Correia was kidnapped in Brazil and no one’s heard anything about him for three months now. But, then, kidnappings seem to be an everyday occurrence down there.”
            Coleman was silent upon hearing all of Katie’s news, then he asked, “And you think these incidents are all related?"
            “That’s what David and I are trying to piece together. None of them on the surface seems to have anything to do with each other, but they all happened since the announcement of the Vermeer sale to people who were among the most probable bidders.”
            “I can’t believe this,” said Coleman. “Or at least I can’t wrap my head around it. It sounds so bizarre.”
       “Well, I just thought you should know what David and I are looking into.”
            “Do you intend to mention this to Shui when you see him?”
            “I don’t know,” said Katie. “He might think we’re out to scare him. Maybe we should. He’s all safe and sound there in Taipei.”
            “And so are Dorenbosch and Danielides?”
            “So far so good,” said Katie. “Do you think we should mention this to Shui?”
          “I don’t know. Let me think about all this. Maybe I should be the one to tell him before you get there?”
     “No, this is all circumstantial at this point. And I told you Correia was off the record.” Katie thought adding Ryoei Saito to what she’d already said, but that would have sounded overly alarmist. “I’ve got to feel Shui out before I can tell him any of this. It might scare the living daylights out of him.”
     “I’m sure it would. He might be next. Okay, I’ll keep it to myself and I promise not to publish any of this, unless something happens soon to Dorenbosch and Danielides.”
            “Thanks, John.”
            Coleman just said, “Listen, I gotta go. Let me know how it goes with Shui.”

      While preparing for the trip to Taiwan, David was working his contacts at NYPD, the FBI and Immigration and Naturalization Service to find out anything more about Shui that had not already been published or that Katie and he had not learned from Professor Lìu. No one, as yet, had confirmed that Shui had any connections within the Taiwanese mobs, which were involved in everything from waste disposal and construction to stock trading, counterfeiting, import and export, along with the usual low-life felonies of debt collection, prostitution and illegal gambling.
      But David thought it would be unusual if a shady billionaire like Shui did not work in some ways with the mobs. That wouldn’t be any different from a lot of American entrepreneurs, from the CEOs of oil companies to every real estate developer in New York. Pay-offs were part of the cost of doing business. Cops paid informants all the time.
            David had also found that Taiwan had an astounding 300 gangs, some just street gangs but the principal ones were entwined with all aspects of Taiwanese life. Many of the most powerful had their origins in the employ of Chiang Kai-shek, who used what he called the Green Gang to crush dissidents, kidnap opponents and arrange assassinations.
            By the 1980s the largest and most powerful of these was called Zhu Lien Bang—the Bamboo Union—and the collusion between it, the government and business was called heijin—Black Gold. According to a recent report by the Ministry of Justice, between five and ten percent of the members of the Taiwanese Parliament had gang affiliations.
            David had gotten all he could from Gerald Kiley about Shui, so he turned to a detective who had worked undercover in the Ghost Shadow Gang in New York’s Chinatown. Bobby Bao, known as “BB” to his colleagues, was responsible for indicting Benny Ong, known as “The Godfather of Chinatown,” for racketeering and murder, as well as a NYPD cop named Michael Lee involved with the mob.

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NOTES FROM THE WINE CELLAR

TRAPICHE OF ARGENTINA
By John Mariani

The emergence of South American quality wines in the 21^st century is quite an achievement, given that there was so much poor quality in the past, not least in Argentina, where the predominant grape for hundreds of years was criolla chica (Mission or Pais). By the 1950s quantity rather than quality was industry’s focus, but although wine consumption dropped in the 1980s and political stability was injurious to the wineries, with a consequent reduction in vineyard acreage, by the 1990s, with new plantings of Malbec in the rich region of Mendoza, the industry rebounded, led by well-established companies like Trapiche, founded in 1883 and now producing more than 3.5 million cases of wine per year and exports to more than 80 countries. To assess modern viticulture in Argentina—now the world’s largest producer—I had dinner in New York with Sergio Casé, chief winemaker at Trapiche.

Since Trapiche was well situated for the rebound of Argentinean viticulture, what long-term plans were set in motion in the 1990s?

We envisioned a plan to cultivate our vineyards in high-quality areas, such as the Uco Valley, while preserving the traditional areas of Mendoza that have historically produced outstanding wines, such as the First Zone (Maipú and Luján, over 850 meters above sea level). With the appropriate vineyards, the proper technology, and the finest wines, our sales team began to specialize and to embark on international trips, thereby boosting the popularity of Argentine wines in the United States and Europe.

Besides Malbec, was Trapiche making other wines and blends in the 1990s?

Wine consumption in Argentina has traditionally relied on Bonarda, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Chardonnay grapes, but, with the discovery of new regions, Malbec has been studied and consolidated on the eastern slope of the Andes mountain range. This boosted our confidence to venture with Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Noir, and Mediterranean varieties, including Syrah, Mouvèdre, Garnacha, Marsanne and Roussanne.

How long have you been making Chardonnay and what distinguishes yours from other South American examples?

In 2000, we began to focus more on Chardonnay. Initially, the vineyards were located in lower areas and were of slightly higher quality, producing aromas reminiscent of ripe tropical fruit and honey. However, over time, Chardonnay was grown in higher altitudes of the Uco valley, and we have been able to obtain other fruit notes, such as fresh pineapple, pear, stone fruits, and even some citrus aromas with a very good acidity, which combined with its controlled malolactic fermentation and a careful barrel selection positioned Trapiche's at the pinnacle of the world's greatest Chardonnays.

Has phylloxera ever been a problem in Argentina?

It is believed that vines from Bordeaux were imported into Argentina in 1878. As of 1936, the rate of spread of phylloxera in the Mendoza region was rapid, with the affected area increasing from 840 acres in 1937/1938 to 2,322 acres in 1941. In 1958, it was estimated that 70% of the vineyard area in Mendoza was infected with it, whereas only 8% had resistant rootstock. In contrast to Europe, Argentina did not experience a phylloxera crisis that had significant economic repercussions. Apparently, the ecological conditions allowed for appropriate vine vegetative vigor, hence allowing coexistence with the pest.

How does the cool climate of Mendoza work to make better wines?

The province of Mendoza is located in an area classified as a continental climate, and it has particular mesoclimate areas with greater cooling that are ideal for the growing of high-quality grapes. On these regions, located in the foothills of the Andes and notably in the Uco Valley, maximum temperatures do not surpass 25-26°C during the day and 10°C at night. This thermal amplitude is essential for the management of aromatic components in grapes and high polyphenol concentration.

Has the climate been warming there?

According to scientific studies of the region, rainfall has declined, which is why Mendoza has been in a state of water emergency for the past thirteen years. This is one of the reasons why the Uco Valley has favorable conditions for high-quality grapes winemaking, along with the widespread implementation of high-tech, pressurized irrigation that makes more efficient use of water.

Do you seek to have your wines come in below 15% alcohol?

In general, the alcohol content of our high-quality wines ranges between 14% and 15%. When grapes reach these values, there is a perfect balance between polyphenolic maturity of the grape, aromas, and structure. These traits are what give Argentine wines their uniqueness.

The pricing on your best wines is very reasonable in the market. How do you manage to keep it that way?

Bodega Trapiche's wines are well known to be of outstanding quality and competitive prices. Each of our agronomic, winemaking, and monetary operations is always scrutinized with the goal of improving efficiency. To achieve a healthy technological and economic balance, we employ cutting-edge technologies.

Argentina is experiencing terrible inflation now of up to 80%. How does the wine industry cope with that? Are all international sales in U.S. dollars?

The problem is not inflation itself, but the fact that the exchange rate does not increase at the same velocity. That generates an important problem because costs in pesos increase rapidly, and revenue measured in pesos does not. Even though sales are in U.S. dollars, legally companies have to sell these dollars and transform the income into pesos. Eventually, a devaluation will happen, and revenue will catch up, but in the meantime, export wineries are having a difficult time, particularly for entry-level wines.

Tell me about your 100% Cabernet Sauvignon and why it is not blended with other Bordeaux-style varietals.

Our Cabernet vineyards are sourced from unique regions, such as the southern region of the Uco Valley, where our El Milagro vineyard is located and yields the fruit for our Trapiche Gran Medalla, or an old vineyard planted in 1960, like the Trapiche Terroir Vineyard. The Leon Laborde series has its own distinct character and does not need to be blended with any other Bordeaux grape. These wines are featured with remarkable generosity, each containing a distinctive style that is worthy of admiration and enjoyment on its own.

Your highly regarded Iscay Malbec has some Cabernet Franc in it. Why?

In the past fifteen years, Cabernet Franc has been cultivated in fertile soils that, when combined with the agro-climatic conditions of the Uco Valley, produce wines of exceptional elegance and freshness. After this variety is paired with Malbec from the upper region of the Uco Valley (Gualtallary at 1,400 meters), where the soils are more calcarous, it results in a perfect combination of powerful color and clear aromas of fresh red fruit from Malbec, transforming Iscay into one of the greatest wines of Argentina whose reputation extends beyond Argentine borders.

Are there many women in the industry, especially at Trapiche?

My winemaking team at Trapiche consists of seven persons, four of whom are women. As an organization, we hire committed, industry-passionate professionals.

You are a member of a fourth-generation wine family. What experience did you learn in Europe that affected your winemaking at Trapiche?

My experience is centered on the many regions of France and is complemented by regions of Italy like Tuscany, where I honed my skills in waiting for the perfect ripeness and interpreting each terroir to capture the greatest expression of the soil in a glass.

Why was Medalla created? And Iscay?

In 1983, as a homage to the winery's 100th anniversary, Trapiche Medalla, a top-notch wine made with grapes from the First Zone, was released. Its essentially old vines have delivered the most awarded Argentine wines for decades. The wine was originally crafted primarily with Cabernet Sauvignon and minor contents of Malbec and Merlot, and now, it is also blended with Cabernet Franc.

Iscay, which means "two" in Quechua (the original language of the Andean region), depicts the union of two components: viticulture, a bond between the terroir and the vine, and oenology, a fusion of Science and Art. This rare Argentine specimen, an emblem of Trapiche, is the product of two concepts, a blend of two grape varieties to achieve the highest quality grapes and to produce the most premium wine.

Does Trapiche have a visitor’s center?

Yes, indeed, it has an amazing visitor center and a first-class restaurant. Trapiche opened the doors to their new winery in 2008 and welcomes visitors for tours daily, from Monday to Friday, 9am to 5pm, and on Saturdays and Sundays from 10 am to 3pm. Visit Trapiche Winery at this address: Nueva Mayorga s/n street (M5522CHA), Coquimbito, Maipú

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FOOD WRITING 101:TRY NOT TO SOUND LIKE A COMPLETE NITWIT

"The appetizers alone are too difficult to choose between. . . . If you don’t accidentally order all of the appetizers and you have room for entrees, make sure to choose at least one of the pasta dishes and either the unique chamomile-crusted tuna with risotto or the parmesan-crusted chicken breast with lemon gnocchi. If you make it this far into the magnificent feast, you must stay for dessert! You will magically feel hungry again when it’s time to choose between a Sicilian zeppole with creamy ricotta and a Nutella pecan pie with gelato."—Gabrielle Becchert, How to Celebrate National Girlfriend's Day in Westchester," Westchester Magazine (8/22)

MARIANI'S VIRTUAL GOURMET NEWSLETTER is published weekly. Publisher: John Mariani. Editor: Walter Bagley. Contributing Writers: Christopher Mariani, Misha Mariani, John A. Curtas, Gerry Dawes, Geoff Kalish. Contributing Photographer: Galina Dargery. Technical Advisor: Gerry McLoughlin.