Brooklyn, I'm Trying

Keep It Light | The Best Wines To Lighten Up Your Thanksgiving Table

Liz Norment — Wed, 21 Nov 2018 21:13:26 +0000

Thanksgiving can be heavy- the 17-lb birds accompanied by thick scoops of potatoes with sticky gravy adhering the two; stuffing that although by name it warns you of its intentions, you still partake willingly; the desserts that just seem like a mockery; family drama that is haphazardly swept under the narrow table runner just to seep out as you pass around the casseroles; the delicate dance of avoiding any political conversation while desperately coming up with anything to say but instead just stuffing stuffing into your face; it’s fucking heavy.

The best way to lighten things up? Choose some light wines that compliment the dishes, a few varietals that will serve as conversation topics, inoffensive wines that are non-polarizing, wholly drinkable, and of course, will naturally smooth things over after a few ~~glasses~~ bottles.

I teamed up with my in-house wine expert and favorite drinking buddy Zachary to help you pick out a few of the brightest, the lightest, the merriest, the most nefarious, and offensively shareable wines for your Thanksgiving table this year. Read on, drink up.

The Domaine Dupeuble Beaujolais Nouveau 2018

Why You’ll Like It: Is there anything more charming or captivating to share around a table than the story of the Beaujolais Nouveau? I say neau.

Why You’ll Drink It: Because it’s Thanksgiving and you’ll need alcohol.

What You’ll Taste: Each year during the third Thursday of November we (the French) celebrate the newest harvest of Gamay grapes with fireworks and revelry. Likewise on the fourth Thursday of November we (Les Americans) celebrate a long standing tradition, a meal that was the supposed heralding of the dawn of a new symbiosis. While it will likely be inappropriate to discuss politics with your seldom seen relatives, what will be appropriate is engaging them on a thousand other topics over a glass of perfectly drinkable Beaujolais. Raise a glass, stemless or stemmed, and care not what divides us save for how much we’ve loved the food and drink this day. Because odds are, we should find little to be at odds over when coming together this Thursday. Family, friends and neighbors: unite(!) over good food and drink and let’s take a page from the French playbook by eating, drinking and being merry with one another. Besides, we could use the practice before the *official* holidays roll around.

The Fleur De Lis Riesling

Why You’ll Like It: It will surprise the fuck out of everyone to hear “riesling” and not taste sweet. Or they won’t know what the hell you’re talking about and you’ll be in your own private sippy little state of bliss.

Why You’ll Drink It: Because it’s Thanksgiving and this is what seems to be the pinnacle of our young country’s cultural traditions.

What You’ll Taste: Every sommelier worth their table salt would agree that no Thanksgiving meal should be without the king of all grapes being present at the table: the Riesling. Our pick for this year is a very affordable German varietal, Fleur de Lis, for under $15 a bottle. With a delicious smack of apricot, mandarin and subtle hints of pear, this delightfully refreshing wine is a perfect complement to your garlic mashers, cranberry relish and Brussels sprouts. Enjoy!

Big Top Zinfandel 2015

Why You’ll Like It: It’s domestic. And that means it will be your best defense against your parents’ comments about how much “you liberals hate America.”

Why You’ll Drink It: Because it’s Thanksgiving and the only thing that’s uniting the table is the agreement on an overall clockwise passing of the plates.

What You’ll Taste: Juicy plum and cherry flavors make this wine a very nice complement to a hearty plate of turkey on this Thanksgiving day. A bit of sprite acidity accompanies the peppery finish to this deliciously drinkable wine. Much like the poultry served on Thursday, this easy-to-indulge-in wine is difficult to resist. Hug your neighbor, give thanks, and drink responsibly-ish.

Robert Debuisson Morgon 2015

Why You’ll Like It: It’s French, it looks and tastes more expensive than it actually is, and

Why You’ll Drink It: Because it’s Thanksgiving and you realize your family keeps getting weirder.

What You’ll Taste: The fruit flavors include currants and a bit of over-ripe blackberries, with a subtle dark chocolate finish. This slightly more mature varietal has medium tannins and acidity that deliver a robust round mouthfeel that would be well met with a tasty turkey day dessert such as, dare I say, pumpkin cheesecake.

Why We Travel… Reason #15 | Le Beaujolais Nouveau Est Arrive!

Liz Norment — Mon, 04 Dec 2017 19:01:49 +0000

le beaujolais est arrivé!

the second time i was in paris, i remember how audacious it felt to purchase the flight. i’d already spent time in paris, a few years back, but the city had been pulling at my soul since i left. it jad settled into a part of my heart that i didn’t know was there, much less vacant and seeking. it was filled, immediately, with a first glance of la tour eiffel, lit up and sparkling. with my first ascension up the tight spiral staircase of the arc de triomphe to reveal the city of light, illuminating my face, staring back at it. the first time. my first promenade down the rue de montparnasse, my first glass of wine in a dark and hidden bar in montmarte, my first full day wandering around the palace and gardens of versailles. my understanding, finally, of the inside-out centre pompidou and all the treasure held within it. my first real baguette.

paris had more than charmed me, it had changed me. and so the first trip i planned with my barely-there paycheck upon moving to spain was to a place i had already been. and i was in love of the audacity of it all. after i landed, i navigated my way by bus through a drizzly evening from charles de gaulle and sat with my face glued to the window. paris. i was back in paris.

i inevitably missed what i thought was my stop and realized that i was terribly lost. i got a cab to the address i had of a friend of mine from years ago. i knew i had 2 hours before he’d be home, so i wandered down the champs elysees, through the christmas markets, that even 6 weeks early seemed so so timely. i indulged in a rather shitty styrofoam cup of mulled wine. i shamelessly didn’t hold back tears. i was so, so happy. when my pack got a bit too heavy, i wandered into a bar along a side street. it was small, crowded. audaciously devoid of intentional decor and exactly the type of cafe you expect in paris. i loved it. as i tried to awkwardly make room for my travelers backpack, my overstuffed leather tote, my distinctively unchic pea coat, the felt hat that i thought was a good idea and now realized really wasn’t a good idea… i was tried to be as inconspicious as possible when someone gleefully shoved an antique looking juice glass into my hand. i looked up. “le beaujolais nouveau est arrive!” i looked noticeably dumfounded, confused. he repeated himself, in hesitant english “uhh, the new wine has arrived!” i was more confused. the new wine? didn’t i come here for the old wine? he didn’t bother explaining, just toasted me with intention and motioned for me to drink up. i did, and almost immediately the bartender was there filling my glass over the brim. everyone was dancing and singing, sipping and spilling. no one seemed to notice the spanish flag patch sewn onto my backpack or my obvious lack of any knowledge of french. it was all “congratulations!” and two kisses and wine. wine. wine.

i spilled out of the bar and onto the street, late now to meet the friend i was staying with. i hailed a cab. on they way i caught a glimpse of the eiffel tower lighting up, again, and began to cry. paris! my god the beauty of it all.

when i arrived at my friend’s apartment, i asked him what was happening. and he laughed when he told me, “oh of course, the new wine!” the explanation he went into was brief but with enough passion to make me realize that this would be my favorite reason to celebrate for the rest of my life.

during the rest of my stay in paris and consequently as the jubilant weekend wore on, i learned that the legend of “beaujolais day” and was captivated even more. the story, as i heard it, is as follows.

In a land where wine is held so sacred and for good reason- Chablis, Champagne, Bourdeaux to name a few, Beaujolais was virtually unrecognized and not nearly revered. so the winemakers of the region set off to charm and fool everyone in the frenchest of ways, by letting their reputation recede them… provided they successfully outran it. one bold winemaker picked and fermented his grapes. aging it for exactly one week, he raced into Paris and announced that the parisians would be drinking that year’s vintage Beaujolais before anyone else in the world. And it would be up to their discerning taste and opinions that would mark that wine’s character and reputation. He risked a non-existent reputation and the hope that the Parisians wouldn’t ever want to appear foolish or not en-vogue. and the people of paris embraced it, they beheld it, they drank it. The next year, more winemakers decided to join, racing against each other on the third thursday of November to declare their Beaujolais Nouveau the first of that year. And from that vintage on they continued to do so, and the people of paris began to embrace it and revere it more and more, in spite of themselves. And so they made it a holiday, a jubilant weekend-long celebration, a commemoration of a bold marketing ploy and when something so unfrench became something oh-so-French.

And this is why we travel. For the wonder and bewilderment of that initial arrival, for discovering such a beautiful tradition in a foreign land to embrace, forever, as your own, and for that irrepressible feeling and adventurous spirit that is forever us. because you and I and le Beaujolais nouveau have all arrived.

<3L.

How to Find the Perfect Wine This Thanksgiving

Liz Norment — Wed, 22 Nov 2017 20:46:10 +0000

why whine about thanksgiving when you can wine about it? thanksgiving sometimes requires a little more lube than what’s provided by the gravy to smooth out uncomfortable family drama or keep your friends giving and getting a little tipsy and to maintain a festive spirit to the party. i stopped by dandelion wine in greenpoint, a place that tops my list of things i’m thankful for, and consulted gabe rattiner to help me help you get through this week of food and festivities. you gotta give a little to get a little, and start here, with my guide to choosing the perfect wine this thanksgiving, no matter how you’ll be spending it.

Friendsgiving in Brooklyn

you’ll want to stand out sitting around the table with what can predictably be a collection of creators, makers, movers and shakers. all who probably brought a dish that is so farm-to-table the farmer came along too (or is that just her date??), each of whom is speaking so excitedly about their new hustle that you struggle to find the right words to say confidently and poignantly “i’m kind of in between projects.”

you want a wine that stands out. you want it to say something about you and your above average knowledge about wine. you want it to somehow stop the overflow of words pouring out from everyone’s mouths and onto the table. you want it to complement a range of free range dishes. and you want it to say, more thank anything, how thankful you are to live in a place among so many genuinely inspiring people. choose something funky and fresh, something that speaks for itself but sounds damn impressive when you speak about it.

according to Gabe there are two ways to go here. he recommends an orange wine, which are simply skin contact white wines (#sluts). your best choice is the Fricando Albana from italy. at $28 it’s unfiltered, funky, natural and will stand out in a crowd.

the other option is to concentrate on a food-focused red wine, in which case he undoubtedly reached for the Wah Wah, a 1500mL bottle of natural, weird wine made by an american living in france. it embodies the ex-pat spirit of rebellion and curiousity with a hell of a lot of spunk. “it’s a wine that people will ask about,” gabe promised. which will be the perfect distraction from yielding questions about that novel you’ve been working on… you know the one. that novel?

Thanksgiving Back Home with the Family.

in the past few years, my sister and i have had a secret sign in reserve that we would give each other across the table that said “prepare the getaway car. we’re out of here.” yes, this need has been ignited by the growing disparity between our political affiliations and those of our family, but also, family thanksgiving is almost always served with a side of a whole year’s worth of drama. you’ll want a wine that smooths things over. you’ll need a wine that you can sip and swallow with ease. you’ll want a wine that makes you want to stay.

the best choice here? go for a middle-of-the-road Cotes du Rhone. it’s fruit-forward and not super aggressive as far as opinions or alcohol content goes, meaning uncle larry won’t be asked to leave the table until after the turkey has been carved this year. gabe’s best pick is this bright Cotes du Rhone from La Ligiere. it’s a crowd pleaser and has a slightly-spritzy quality to it, and at $15 it’s unpretentious and will help silence all of those presumptuous “so how is life in new york city?” inquiries.

Thanksgiving with your Lover’s Family

this, of course, is always a bit sensitive. for a holiday that is laden with tradition, it’s hard to be at a new house and not gawk at the sweet potato casserole (wait, you guys make it how?) it’s difficult to choke down a dry turkey so as not to offend everyone around. it’s tough to swallow the lack of mashed potatoes on the table. it’s nearly impossible to hold back tears when “mom’s pumpkin pie” is not your mom’s pumpkin pie and, you kind of miss your mom. and who are these people? (listen, brenda, i’m not calling you “mom”.) stick with something light and slightly effervescent, to open up your heart and your palate. something of a conversation piece that will help you avoid the “oh yeah, well in my family…” conversation starters. Gabe recommends the Morgon Pinot Noir from Burgundy. Subtle and nice, it stands out enough to be appreciated without offending. “People who know wine know Morgon,” Gabe added. so you will either charm the fucking pants off of them, or you’ll simply have a goddamn great wine to drink.

thinking of bringing them a gift? sparkling is the go-to, but champagne can feel like you’re trying too hard. stick with a bone-dry zero dosage (meaning no sugar added) sparkling instead, like the “Zero” cremant from Burgundy for $27. it’s light and fresh and teeters away from the “god what a kiss-ass” side of the spectrum and more towards, “impressive, surprisingly refined, and damn that’s a really great beard.” which of course just what you’re going for.

Playing Thanksgiving Host(ess) for the First Time

there are so many things beyond your control when hosting a thanksgiving dinner; the edibleness of the turkey, the timing of every little dish, the thickness of the gravy, the chance that one of your friends has brought a side piece or side dish that is deliberately unappetizing and offensive… what you can control is the wine you provide and the confidence with which you bestow upon your motley crew of guests. a good host isn’t one who necessarily cooks everything to perfection, and on time, and has an impressive tablescape (thanks for consistently making me feel uncrafty and insufficient, sandra lee …who by the way is married to andrew cuomo. i don’t know why everyone isn’t freaking out about this they way i am, every day.) a good host is one who chooses a great wine. who presents it in a casual yet confident manner. who makes everyone feel like this wine speaks to them and thus they belong here at the table. and a good host makes sure that the glasses are always always half full and waxing. choose something affordable and dynamic. it should feel natural, organic, sustainable, tolerant. forgiving. here a montepulciano is the best choice. full-bodied and high in alcohol content, it will add some character to the meal and to the stories told at the table. the Ciu Ciu (aptly pronounced “chew! chew!”) is a sangiovese-montepulciano blend is bright and spicy and at $15 a bottle, you can buy enough to make sure everyone forgets how foul the bird was this year.

Not doing Thanksgiving this year…

then get this fucking sparkling, you savage. and drink it.

Happy Thanksgiving Y’all.

<3L.

Drink Spanish Wine.

Liz Norment — Fri, 25 Nov 2016 01:31:33 +0000

a guide to finding the perfect spanish wine for all your dope occasions.

in brooklyn our lives are often defined by contradictions. we sleep in the shadow of the world’s most infamous skyline and the flickering streetlight outside of our too-expensive shoebox apartment that we share with 3 other people in bed stuy. we wear ripped jeans and red lipstick to invite-only gallery openings on our way to a bushwick afterhours party. we chase a beer-and-a-shot with a beer-and-a-shot before a five course meal across the street. we look to elevate our lives in the most grounded way we know how. we let our reputation precede us.

this is us.

and to find a wine that meets the demands of this lifestyle,the hipster sommelier tells you to drink spanish wine. in a country that is smaller than texas, the wines of the region are more dynamic and distinct than the neighborhoods in our finicky little borough.

here i offer you a bit of my own exploration. inspired after attending Spain’s Great Match event this week with my partner in crime in chelsea, and having taken it upon myself to drink wine all over that wonderous land, i offer you the perfect spanish wine for every occasion. pop it open, let’s start drinking brooklyn.

The Housewarming Party in Bed Stuy.

Martin Codax Burgán Albariño from Rias Baixas, $17

gentrification! i’ll drink to that. it’s no new news, we’re all moving east. and to your friends who listlessly scour craigslist with their map set on greenpoint, the ones who constantly ask you to ask your landlord if he has any empty spots, the ones who get down on one knee and propose to you, over and over, just to get an in to your apartment… they finally concede and head south on the G or east on the L and find a place bigger and less expensive than yours. good for them! good for fucking them. after a long search, bring a wine that spells “relief” a-l-b-a-r-i-ñ-o. it’s fresh and light and encouraging. it comes with a sense of hopefulness. it’s a new start and it’s a full-bodied white from the northwest region of spain. my pick? Martin Codax Burgán. oh and drop by bedford cheese for a nice wedge of manchego because it pairs well with fresh and distinct mineral nature of this wine, along with a certain stubborn pride that says “i swear i don’t spend all my money on rent, look at this nice cheese.”

these coordinates always lead me in the right direction – to catalunya where the cava flows like rivers.

these coordinates always lead me in the right direction – to catalunya where the cava flows like rivers. captured by @hannahhea88

The Launch of [insert dope endeavor here].

Anna Brut Cava from Codorniu in Catalunya, $13

ah the listless and awe-inspiring achievements of your Brooklyn peers. we are all always doing something, aren’t we? and that’s really why we live here – to be inspired by each other and to continue to move up and forward and dream fucking big. so when it’s time to celebrate those accomplishments – an app launch, a blog publishing, a gallery opening, graduating from welding class, going back to school to study biodynamic food science, a spot on the coveted 30 under 30 list (ahem, there isn’t much time @brooklynmagazine!!!), or a 30th birthday (which is an accomplishment in itself!), bring them cava. the first sparkling wine ever made (suck it, champagne.) comes from that region that i am quite fond of. and my favorite, of course, is the original. the Anna Brut Cava from Codorniu, the first cava winery, ever. it’s feisty and fresh, bursting with potential and it’s a steal for $15. pop dat bottle baby.

summertime setting upon a familiar coastline.

The one to drink when you want to pretend it’s still summer.

Muga Rioja Rosado from Haro, $18.

it’s getting colder outside and you haven’t gotten used to the awkward banging from your desperate radiator and your favorite sweater smells like last year’s lover and you aren’t ready to get back into it. so don’t. instead, close the windows, let the radiator spew it’s mysterious contents into the air. throw your hair up carelessly. play this playlist. put on waterproof mascara, i don’t know. why the fuck not. because if we believe it hard enough, maybe we’ll skip winter this year. chill a bottle of rosé, from the rioja region. not quite as light as it’s french neighbor to the north, this rosé is darker, bolder, and lingers… just like that beautiful summertime skin. my favorite is the Muga Rioja Rosado. you can’t go wrong with anything from this winery or anything from the beloved town of haro. chill, pour, drink, repeat repeat repeat until june.

vermut cocktails at Spain’s Great Match, captured by the talented @hannahea88

vermut cocktails at Spain’s Great Match, captured by the talented @hannahea88

The first snowstorm.

Casa Mariol Vermut from Catalunya, $14.

well that didn’t fucking work did it. the winter arrives, after all. and let’s all admit it- the first glimpse of snow has us all a bit romanticized. we watch wide-eyed with our noses pressed against the foggy window. we run out and play in the street. we laugh and sing. we text our moms and ask to tell us again the rule about making snow cream out of the first snow. we say fuck it and put a bowl out on the fire escape anyway. we drink beers, lots of them, at all of our favorite neighborhood haunts that feel new again because everything outside has changed. and maybe we’ve changed a bit too. we toast and feel toasty and get toasted.

and then we hear it. the snow plow. it tears through the streets and into our hearts and turns all of the magic into a grey soupy mess that we’ll be trudging through until april. and so when the magic fades from the first few flakes, that is when we drink vermut. yeah. we’re drinking vermut. because in spain they drink it straight up, with ice or without. it’s warm and spicy. it’s dark and dangerous. like a new lover, embrace it and look deep into its soul but say nothing and give nothing away. it works out easier that way. my choice here is the classic Casa Mariol Vermut. pour it slowly and snuggle up.

For 808s 212s and heartbreak.

Petalos Bierzo, $20.

to comfort a friend who has decided to throw in the towel after her 111 tinder failure but is masking it as “girls night”. the irony is not lost on me. i delete and download dating apps more often than i log in to my bank account. we all love them and hate them and are really fucking exhausted by them. so bitch about it with your friends. drink wine, share stories… about the one who yelled at the server because the oysters were too big before offering you some cocaine. about the one who showed up in a ferrari but had absolutely nothing else to say for himself. at all. and wouldn’t let you drive. about the one who didn’t tell you his age and turned out to be nearly older than your father. about the actor who couldn’t afford to take the train so you rode him back to his place on your bike. about the one, the only one, who got away. and for all the ones who could never hold on to you.

for these nights, drink bierzo. this ancient region is the rising star in the spanish wine scene, located in the northwest and known for old wines with fresh flavors. it’s deep roots and with promising beginnings… not unlike your dating life. haunting and exotic, this red draws you in like a lover and hangs on to you just long enough. swipe right with the Petalos Bierzo.

For the friend who’s leaving the city.

Quinta Milú, Ribera del Duero, $11.

so a friend is finally saying goodbye to all that. to all this. it happens all the time, for one reason or another. maybe it’s for a person or from a person. maybe it’s the hustle that’s exhausted them. maybe they head west, or overseas, towards an opportunity and a promise or to nothing at all. a bittersweet celebration, always. for this you need a wine that hits your tongue and fills your mouth and lingers long after it’s gone, it’s substantial, it speaks of age and significance. it’s long finish, a bravado that speaks to a complex history. for this occasion, a ribera del duero. wines that are defined as such because they grow along the lush banks of the ribera river. it’s deep and abundant and flows oh so freely. my favorite is the ever-so-charming Quinta Milu.

pairs well with olive oil. and everything else too.

spanish wine pairs well with olive oil. and your lifestyle, brooklyn.

¡salud, brooklyn!

<3L.

pinkerton wine bar, williamsburg.

Liz Norment — Wed, 14 Sep 2016 00:39:26 +0000

as a self-proclaimed authority on absolutely everything happening in my neighborhood, with full confidence i planned out a weekend activities when my sister and her husband came up to visit last weekend. the night before their arrival she texted me – “our airbnb is right beside a wine bar that has $1 oysters everyday!!” with a link to pinkerton wine bar.

my sister is a bit of an oyster connoisseur, having just nabbed a national award for making virginia’s thriving oyster culture more sustainable and explorable with the virginia oyster trail. and she loves wine. this should have been on my list of things to do, this should have been on my radar! these bargain bivalves should have been sliding down my throat chased with a sip of chablis long before i received that text. i was ashamed and intrigued – how the hell did i miss this??

it’s because that is the very nature of pinkerton. cozy and unassuming. intimate and unpretentious. a tribute to the culture and local identity here instead of a steady scream of it’s presence. and an admittance that despite our waning disposable income, we still like to feel fancy.

and for that, pinkerton is where to drink this weekend. or this week. or every week of every month, whether it has an R in it or not. the dollar oysters and simple small plates are delightful and make the perfect compliment to the wine list, which itself is well-curated and extensive. my pick was easy with the presence of a sparkling rosé cava from catalunya on the menu, a place i can’t deny (in so many ways) i’m kind of a big fan of.

the atmosphere is cozy with un-ironic antique decor, semi-creepy oil paintings from someone’s family and stained glass lighting fixtures. original tile flooring and an unlucky bucky bust on the wall. order from the bar, take a seat inside or out. meet a friend here you haven’t seen in a while as the vibe feels both familiar and new at the same time. hold someone’s hand across the table, say nothing or everything. breathe in, sip, and settle. you’ll be here for a while.

just as we were, last saturday afternoon. where again, as nearly every day, i was reminded that there is still so so much to discover about this charming town we call brooklyn. that even if you spend countless hours every single week researching every event, every opening, every happy hour that pops up, there are still things to learn. so thank you pinkerton, for reminding me humbly, of this. and for the fantastic fucking oysters.

what not to miss

the sparkling rose cava. and of course any time they have chablis because… well, i love a good chablis. plus all of the oysters, and a few cheeses for good measure.

how not to miss it

well, first of all don’t blink. because you will miss it. or just bike to 263 N 6th st.

5pm-1am m-th

5pm-2am f

1pm-2am sa

1pm-1am su

happy hour every day until 8pm

and $1 oysters all day, every day.

save me some chablis, and a cozy little spot beside you.