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The recent unpleasantness between boat and bridge, and its aftermath, causes all of us to mourn the loss of wildlife and damage to the ecosystem. As a card-carrying grump when it comes to traditional holiday foods, I suffer additional angst over the delay in crab season.
Crab is my salvation from turkey, stuffing, pumpkin pie and those nasty sweet potatoes with marshmallows. The rest of the country can have its traditional turkeys and hams with canned pineapple slices. I – and many other northern Californians – will take fresh crab straight out of the Pacific, thank you. I optimistically assume that our succulent crustaceans will be available by the December holidays and am toying with menus, including what wines to serve.
After my recent foray into Zibibbo and other non-traditional wines, fruit wines have caught my fancy. Are there really non-grape offerings that will pair with food? Are they really not sweet? I plan to find out. At least a few fruit wines will grace my holiday tables, along with good fumé blancs from Benziger or Murphy-Goode and a Chateau St. Jean Riesling.
Resolute but leery, I called Peter Schnebly, owner and wine guru of Schnebly Redland’s Winery in Homestead, Fla., and a man who never questioned his ability to make wine that goes with food out of anything, including mango, carambola, lychee, guava, passion fruit and now avocado. What would he recommend to go with crab? “Our Islamorada (aka, Caramobla Oak Wine),” he answered. “What’s that, and how sweet is it?” I asked. And he gave me an answer that not only explained the wine, but also put my mind at ease regarding sweetness.
Islamorada is made from carambola (star fruit) aged in French oak for six months, and, if comparisons must be made, is similar to a chardonnay, but sharper (I think crabs will like that!). Because of the oak aging, it’s a smooth, sophisticated wine.
Now, for the sweetness factor. According to Schnebly, the more residual sugar in the wine, the more it tastes like the fruit of origin, and the sweeter it is. He pointed out that, when describing grape-based wines, we seldom say they taste like grapes, but often compare them to other fruit flavors – say, cherry, raspberry or pear. Wines have overtones of those fruits because the low residual sugar allows other flavors and aromas to emerge. When Schnebly ferments fruit wines, his goal is as close to zero residual sugar as he can get.
Feeling much better about my fruit wine decision, I asked what else he might recommend and he told me about his latest venture – avocado wine. Uh-oh – I’m back to questions. Is it green I asked, picturing a cloudy, slimy, unpleasant wine with bits of fiber floating in it. I should have known better by now. The new avocado wine is evidently almost as clear as water. More importantly, Schnebly describes it as light and crisp, with citrus overtones.
I’m sold. I’ll go with the Islamorada and avocado wines, reluctantly passing up the mango wine that Schnebly pairs with barbecued wild Florida shrimp and mango salsa. If I lived in Florida, that combo would definitely be in the running for my non-traditional meal.
My next and last stop – there aren’t a lot of other-fruit-based, pair-with-food wineries – is Honeywood Winery in Salem, Ore. The fruits available in Oregon are a stretch from the tropical offerings of Florida. Pears, peaches, apricots and a plethora of berries are the foundations for Honeywood’s wines.
I begin my litany of questions with winemaker Marlene Gallick. I like the sound of their pear wine, which she describes as light and delicate with just a hint of fruit. This one is similar to a Riesling, and sounds as if it would do well with crab.
By now, I’m feeling somewhat selfish. I’ve certainly found options for crab, but what about my friends who like traditional holiday fare? Is there a fruit wine that would pair well with turkey, prime rib or ham?
While the red meats may have to wait a while, Gallick assures me that they have two wines that will do a turkey justice. Both are blush wines, one made from cranberries and the other, from red currants. If I were a turkey-eater, I’d go for the cranberry. It’s traditional.
Here’s the plan. Elegance aside, my crab feed will include a blind tasting. All the wines, grape and not-grape, will come to the table brown-bagged. I’m curious to see how the fruit wines will perform. I’ll keep you posted.
