This month we take a slight diversion from talking specifically about wine to reflect.
I started my professional interest in wine and food just about a zillion years ago when I worked for the “21” Club in New York City. The wine list was incredible and the food, while certainly never cutting edge, was dished out with great aplomb by a well-tuned staff. It was a great place to start one’s career. Rich patrons mixed with the famous, and excitement was always in the air.
After so many years of wine and food, my appetite has never waned. And along the way I have collected some life defining experiences and wonderful lessons. Some were acquired at the world’s top restaurants, others at lesser-known venues. Yet, my most memorable and strangest wine-and-dine experience was not so much a matter of taste, but of thrill. Proof positive that each meal is an opportunity for any number of adventures.
It was in Denver. A San Francisco friend of mine had moved there. I was in town for business, so he made reservations at “the finest restaurant in Denver.”
It was a stylish place. My friend and his new love were waiting for me at our table. We ordered appetizers and a white wine and exchanged pleasantries. The appetizers were set before us. The sommelier approached with our wine, carrying the wine bottle and three glasses on a silver tray in one hand, over his head. The wine bottle had already been opened.
Instantly I thought, “What a shame it would be if our waiter tripped.” My thought turned into a curse, for as soon as it passed through my mind, he tripped. The glasses and the wine bottle fell on our table, drenching the tablecloth with wine and broken glass. Wow!
After much apologizing, mopping up, and resetting the table, we finished the appetizers and were happily munching away on our main courses. Then, we began to notice a terrible smell, immediately followed by a woman’s high-pitched scream. We turned around and saw something that one rarely sees in an upscale restaurant: the woman sitting at the table next to us had leaned too near a lit candle on the table, and her elaborate hairdo was on fire!
Her escort reacted swiftly. He jumped up and whipped the tablecloth off the table to douse the fire. If you do this tablecloth bit with skill, the plates and glassware stay in place. Unfortunately, her escort hadn’t practiced this maneuver, so a lot of dishes, cutlery, food, and wine were sent careening to the floor.
Soon, everyone settled down, but the smell of burnt hair lingering in the air had a negative effect on the dining experience. The wine didn’t taste as good as it had. You know, with those added notes of burnt hair and fried tablecloth.
Then came the dessert course, and with it, a dramatic finale. Off in the distance, we heard police sirens. The sounds came nearer and nearer. We all became a bit apprehensive when the flashing red and blue lights settled in the restaurant’s parking lot. Immediately, the doors burst open and five of Denver’s finest came in with pistols drawn.
The lead finest shouted, “Hands on the table, this is a raid!” As soon as he said that, he noticed he was in an elegant restaurant facing some very surprised diners. He looked down at his notebook and hurriedly reappraised the situation. “Sorry, folks,” he said in a subdued tone. “We were looking for a gambling joint. We had the wrong address.” The crew sheepishly backed out to their cars to find the real miscreants.
Most times our dining experiences have been more sedate, even sublime. But one thing has remained my mantra over the years: I never drink wine without food, and I would never dine at a good restaurant without wine. Wine and food go together like Rolls and Royce, Van Cleef and Arpels, and Sodom and Gomorrah. Yes, one shouldn’t be so adamant about it—some of my best friends “go wine alone.” However, good wine plus good food enhance each other. Good company and location completes the pleasure. Take one factor away and the experience suffers. That settled, here are a few other things I’ve learned about what makes dining fine.
Simple can be simply the best. One of my most delightful eating experiences was at Omero Restaurant, on a hill overlooking Florence. It was a sunny, clear day. My wife and I shared a deliciously simple roast chicken and Tuscan beans with a wine Baron, Bettino Ricasoli, and his spouse. The wine was the Baron’s—an inexpensive Brolio Chianti. Every element served to elevate the other. It truly proves that great meals do not have to be expensive or elaborate to be wonderful. A modest affair can often exceed expectations.
Service is key. At the Connaught Hotel in London, with friends that had been so welcoming to us, we consulted with the sommelier and ordered Louis Roederer Champagne with appetizers, a Piesporter Goldtropfchen Riesling with the fish course, and a fine Bordeaux, Leoville-Barton, with our main course. At the end of the meal, I offered the sommelier an extra tip over the service charge, but he graciously declined, saying that it was his pleasure to see such excellent wine ordering. One act of kindness can make a meal memorable.
A lesson in maturity. Meals can be wonderful venues for teaching the younger set about behaving adult-like. We were at Hacienda de los Morales, a great restaurant in Mexico City; it was our first trip with a granddaughter and her cousin. We ordered a fine Mexican white wine, Monte Xanic, and the young ladies, in their early teens, tasted it and loved it. They ordered it the next night. They felt very grown up. We felt very proud.
Eating and behaving well. It was a beautiful summer night at the Cipriani Hotel in Venice some forty years ago. We were having dinner in the garden. We had our children with us on their first trip to Europe. It was so delicious, romantic, and endearing that I have never forgotten one moment about the meal—the wine, food, and atmosphere—and the total joy of introducing our kids to it. They loved it so much, it served as a great way to wean them away from fast food. They dressed up, and even enjoyed learning good manners; most importantly, they learned how to enjoy good food at a relaxed pace. The tasteful lessons have stayed with them forever.
I’m sure you have your own delightful dining tales; I’d love to hear them. I don’t know about you, but I’ve developed a certain thirst and crave a lovely meal! I’m off, to make memories.
Ed Schwartz has been involved in many aspects of fine wine for 30 years and has worked with top wineries in California, Italy and France. His writings on wine, food and travel have appeared in the SF Chronicle, LA Times and Image magazine.
