Bottles, Beaches, and Bivalves

December 01, 2015 by Ariana Kripalani

It's finally December 1st and, while some East Coasters are dreaming about snowflakes and sugar plums, those of us who actually remember last year's apocalyptic winter are left fantasizing about beaches and bikinis. So, if you're lucky enough to be fleeing our climate zone between now and March (or are simply planning a summer vacation), here's a guide to what your beach diet should look like.

...Because Diluted Mojitos and avocado salads just aren't going to cut it.

**Boiled Maine Lobster with Drawn Butter**

Who doesn't love a gorgeous hunk of steamy lobster - especially when you aren't murdering it yourself. But, if you need a little liquid courage before wrestling with those massive claws, grab a crisp, citrusy Albariño like the Don Olegario ($18). It adds the perfect hints of pineapple, lemon, and sea salt to complement the succulence of your sweet, buttery lobster meat

Lobster Roll + Dry Rosé = Douchey Deliciousness. Before lacing up that two-piece and heading to Lunch, Lobster Roll, buy a bottle of Bonny Doon's Vin Gris De Cigare ($18) or Robert Sinksey's Vin Gris of Pinot Noir ($28). Both rosés rock zesty, acidic finishes that refresh your palate after every mayo-laced bite. But, seriously, barring another Hamptons rosé shortage, steer clear of that watered-down garbage the Fat Jew's peddling. I don't care how #basic you may be... you're better than White Girl Rosé

Oysters like their wine the way John Mayer likes his women - white, pretty, and occasionally bubbly. They can hang with anything from a creamy Champagne to a dry, mineral-rich Chablis. Hell, if you're unsure, pull a Mayer and try a different glass per oyster... whatever floats your boat. Personally, I'm in heaven with a dozen juicy west coasters and a fruity, New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. A bottle of Oyster Bay is literally the perfect fit - it's a touch bubbly, packs an acidic punch, and mellows brininess

Fried food without sparkling wine is like Mickey Mouse without the ears - it's just unnatural. If you wanna bump your crunchy tentacles up to the next level, go with a dry, Spanish bottle like the Brut Cava Anna de Codorníu NV ($15). Its riveting acidity, subtle effervescence, and silky texture balance the breading's saltiness and enhance the tenderness of the calamari itself. Cava and fried squid click so well, they should basically be out buying each other friendship bracelets

Assuming Elite Daily isn't your sole "news" provider, you've probably heard (and ignored) that you should be avoiding tuna the way you do those sidewalk petitioners. Most tuna - particularly those big guys (i.e. Bluefin and Yellowfin) - have been declared ridiculously unsustainable. And, even if the whole "destruction of the ecosystem" thing doesn't turn you off, much of our tuna supply is riddled with toxic levels of mercury. But, you know, if you've already consumed enough Alzheimer's-inducing mercury to render the Earth's impending implosion irrelevant... live dangerously and order a lil Ahi once in a while. For tacos dotted with spicy mayo and/or jalapeños, balance their heat and freshness with an off-dry Riesling like the Monchhof Urzig Wurzgarten ($16) from Mosel.

Tapas: The Commitment-Phobe's Meal Made in Heaven

September 24, 2015 by Ariana Kripalani in Cuisine

Let’s be real, we all have that friend (or in my case, my mother), who, without fail, orders the wrong item on the menu. Like every miserable time. The dish, in most cases, isn’t even cooked improperly; it’s more that your pathologically picky eater convinces herself that she is cultured enough to be “culinarily” adventurous… SPOILER ALERT: She’s not. So, what’s the secret to maintaining your dining relationship with this fussy-ass eater? Tapas.

With tapas (Spanish small plates), seafood, beef, pork, cheese, veggies – it doesn’t matter – your options are virtually limitless. And the central rationale as to why these Spanish goodies should be the only feasting option for you and your finicky friend? Tiny portions. Each serving is generally somewhere between 3 to 4 pieces, maximum. That’s it. That’s all you get. UNLESS… you actually happen to LOVE it! Then, go crazy – order ‘till you start to feel your jeans tear into your abdomen. BUT, if you hate the dish, it ain’t no thang. It’s basically finished anyway. Push the plate aside and order whatever jamón-wrapped, fried cheese item you’ve been eying for the last 20 minutes. It’s the most beautifully noncommittal way to enjoy a meal. And, BONUS: the portion sizes are so small that the judgmental “you should go to the gym” inner monologue you may or may not have wont even be activated.

Considering the calories you're saving on small plates, you should be drinking some combination of the following:

*EXPERT TIP: Just like the food, the wine should feel non-committal as well. Go for glasses rather than bottles here so that you can explore what truly makes you happy.

Sangria: Most quality tapas places offer homemade Sangria in any (or all) of the elixir’s three styles: Red (Tinta), White, and Sparking (Cava). If they do, and you’ve heard their Sangria is something to write home about – GO NUTS. I have literally no rules here. To work up an appetite, I like to have a pitcher of the restaurant’s best version before the tapas ordering even begins. But that’s just me. Try one, all three, or intersperse a pitcher or two throughout your meal. Just keep in mind you’re definitely Ubering home.

Cava: As the Spanish answer to Champagne, Cava is always a winner. It’s also majorly economical – you can score a fabulous bottle of Cava for like $12.99 retail. Pair your nutty, citrusy bubbly with Pan con tomate, fried goat cheese croquets, or seared octopus.

White: Enjoy Galicia’s most badass export – the citrusy, peachy, super refreshing Albariño – with one of the country’s most ubiquitous tapas: Gambas al Ajillo (shrimp in sizzling garlic). But, honestly, I’ll pair a good Albariño with nearly anything. I'm talking from pancakes to sushi – they’re incredible.

Red: When scarfing down a bowl of Albondigas (Spanish meatballs), grilled Chorizo, or expertly cooked skirt steak, reach for a bottle from Spain’s red wine powerhouse: Rioja. Aged for at least 3 years, a Rioja Reserva, with its earthy, complex, mushroomy profile is an awesome, meat-friendly wine.

Dinner by Delivery - Taco Edition

September 17, 2015 by Ariana Kripalani in Cuisine

It's late, you're exhausted, and you've just collapsed in your doorway thanks to the coma-like state your boss, professor, mother, or ex has driven you into. You've hit that point where you can blink and wiggle your fingers, but not much else. Your only thought becomes, "How the hell am I going to feed myself?" And then, like a message from the heavens, it dawns on you - you're Seamless-ing, Grubhub-ing, or Postmate-ing this B. I don't care if the restaurant is 3 blocks away, you are clicking a few buttons on your phone and, in 40 minutes, a lovely person in a bike helmet is putting that food in your lap, before going on his merry way.

Now, what to order? Chinese, Mexican, and sushi tend to be your safest bets – they all travel decently well and you kind of know what to expect (i.e. you aren’t throwing your food out and heating up frozen Bagel Bites instead). But on days where nothing’s going quite right, a decent taco can make you step off the ledge.

So, you've settled on tacos from that amazing hole-in-the-wall joint you tell no one about, but what to drink? Let's be honest, on days like this, you can barely muster the energy to wash your face, let alone craft a decent margarita. And, unless you stockpile enough quality tequila to drink on the rocks (and maybe you do, I don't know your life), you're inevitably going to need something to gulp down that pairs well with the feelings you're eating.

Beer is an option, sure. But, honestly, its probably not high enough in alcohol to take the edge off (unless you plan to have 6). So, it shouldn’t shock you, given the theme of this blog, that a great bottle of wine should be your go-to when it comes to delivery tacos.

Here’s a simple pairing guide for three very different taco options:

Fish Taco (fried or grilled): For a fish taco, reach for a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. Its citrusy, pineappley notes will brighten up your taco and its high acidity perfectly complements a white, flakey fish. All you need now is a bikini and a beach. Try a Nobilo Sauvignon Blanc - they're sold nearly everywhere and retail for about 11 bucks

Beef Taco (e.g. carne asada, barbacoa, ground beef): To beef up your beef taco, pour yourself a massive glass of Argentinian Malbec. Its luscious, black fruitiness will enhance the meat's juiciness and its body can stand up to a grill’s smoky char. Experiment with a Layer Cake Malbec - it features bold and spicy chocolate notes and will run you about $15

Pork Taco (al pastor, carnitas, pulled-pork): A braised or spit-grilled, greasy pork taco calls for a dry, sparkling rosé. Because pork tacos tend to have sweet elements, especially those marinated with pineapple or grilled onions, a sparkling, Spanish Cava is an excellent option. The Cava’s fruity notes highlight the taco’s sweetness and its acidity cuts some of the pork’s fat. Try a Freixenet Cordon Rosado - it’s a great blend and retails for like 10 bucks

Oyster Happy Hour, Anyone?

September 10, 2015 by Ariana Kripalani in Occasion

18 Nova Scotian Oysters paired with 3 glasses of Vinho Verde - Upstate: Craft Beer and Oyster Bar (95 1st Ave, New York, NY) — 18 Nova Scotian Oysters paired with 3 glasses of Vinho Verde - Upstate: Craft Beer and Oyster Bar (95 1st Ave, New York, NY)

Whether you’re starving while saving the world at a non-profit (I see you), spending your days in a trading room and nights in a cubicle (hey, at least you skipped grad school), or you were picked on in high school, but then showed everyone by launching your own startup at 19, the one thing yuppies and poor grad students can agree upon is that oyster happy hours are awesome. Like, straight up, awesome. Unlike some of the more regrettable, possibly shame-inducing decisions you’ve made in your 20s, Oyster happy hours are a refined, but fiscally responsible way to spend an evening – especially if the venue hosts a $1 oyster deal.

For broad strokes purposes, here’s a quick ‘n’ easy guide to ordering oysters:

There are two main groups of oysters: East Coast and West Coast... it's the mollusk version of the Biggie vs. Tupac rivalry

East Coasters tend to be larger, meatier, and brinier (i.e. they taste like the ocean). Menu options include: Blue points, Prince Edward Islands (PEIs), and anything from Nova Scotia

West Coasters tend to be smaller, sweeter, creamier, and have a more cucumber-y finish. Menu options include: Kumamotos, Hog Islands, Kusshis, and anything from British Columbia. *While these are my favorite, they also cost nearly double the average east coaster. Therefore, you'll be hard-pressed to find these guys on a happy hour list

Now, Onto the “Happiest” portion of an oyster Happy Hour - The wine.

There will always be a beer option… however, I don’t drink beer, so I can’t help you there. If you want to get all you can out of these slimy little guys, you can’t go wrong guzzling down any of these delicious options:

With a briny, meaty East Coaster, drink something bubbly (i.e. a Prosecco or a Cava) – these tend to be inexpensive options that possess balanced acidity and light effervescence – they’ll bring your behemoth of an oyster to life
With a smaller, creamier West Coaster, go for a California or New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc (you are bound to find a decently priced one on nearly every menu), or even a dry rosé – their bright acidity will perfectly cut through the unctuousness of a west coaster

Now, I know oysters aren’t everyone’s bag, but I wholeheartedly encourage you to gulp down one of these suckers at least once* - they’re delicious, nutritious, and, while that whole “aphrodisiac” thing is probably a marketing ploy by the oyster lobby, once you get over the texture, your life will be infinitely better.

*EXCEPT the lot of you with shellfish allergies – I will not accept any liability for self-induced Anaphylaxis