The Champagne vinegar crafted at St. Helena Olive Oil Company utilizes California sparkling wine as its base, rather than white wine with a yeast disgorgement, which is the common practice.
Single-Varietal Vinegars -California's Wine-Friendly CondimentsBy Jen Karetnick
The day may have come to retire the old adage "You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar" - at least if the flies are epicures and the bait is wine-friendly California vinegars made from vinifera grapes. Bolstered by the battle that balsamic vinegar producers waged against pretenders in the last millennium, Champagne, Chardonnay and Cabernet vinegar makers are leading the next wave in the struggle against second-rate intruders. Gone for the most part are the days of generic red wine vinegars moldering in cruets on restaurant tables and in home pantries. In their stead, most food-and-wine aficionados have embraced balsamic vinegar. As popular as it may be, however, when it comes to flavor profile, the fortified Italian vinegar has its limitations.
On the other hand, single-varietal vinegars can be as different from one another as freckles. The individuality they bring to a dish - the potential for gastronomic transformation implied by their singular flavor profiles - is the primary reason they are being positioned as both deglazes and reductions in kitchens and as enhancements to artisanal bread, farmstead cheeses, organic microgreens and the like on dining tables.
Indeed, in his NapaStyle catalog, gourmet guru Michael Chiarello calls his barrel-aged Champagne vinegar "not a cooking ingredient - it's a delicate, delicious condiment." Sparrow Lane Farms proprietor Philip Toohey categorizes his Zinfandel, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Champagne vinegars not as wine or food; rather, he says, "They are wine as food." This concept is highlighted at Bizcaya Grill in the Ritz-Carlton Coconut Grove (Miami), where Chef Willis Loughhead pairs an appetizer of seared foie gras with a mouth-blown crystal shot glass filled with lavender-scented, honey-flavored vinegar. "The vinegar cuts the richness of the foie gras," he says. "But because it has a heaviness to it, a sweetness, it feels like fat or butter on your tongue and allows your palate to remember the foie gras rather than be washed clean. It's an allusion to the original dish, so once you take a sip you want to go back."
Swishing one's palate with vinegar is hardly a novel idea. The biting liquid has been around since it was accidentally discovered more than 10,000 years ago; humans have been deliberately fermenting sugars into alcohol, and consequently vinegar, since the Neolithic period. The Babylonians quaffed vinegar, flavored with herbs, for pleasure. Roman soldiers tossed it back like medicine for strength. And Cleopatra imbibed hers - spiked extravagantly with dissolving pearls - with a bit of self-styled drama (thus demonstrating acetic acid's ability to act as a solvent).
A modern connoisseur, however, might not want to slug down a shooter of, say, Heinz red wine vinegar. Nor would the oxidized dregs of Cabernet from the unfinished bottle that's been subjected to bacon fumes and kitchen heat make much of an apéritif. In order to properly form, all vinegars require the same double-fermentation process: alcohol must be brewed from some sort of sugar, then turned into acetic acid with the help of a variety of bacterial cultures (mycoderma aceti) called acetobacters. The harsher, unrefined commercial bottlings rely on mass-production generators that force the introduction of oxygen in order for the bacteria to feed and multiply at a tremendously rapid rate. The result is something one might rather use as a hair rinse than as a bracing balm for the throat.
Take a swig of B.R. Cohn's Champagne, St. Helena Olive Oil Company's Cabernet or Sparrow Lane's Zinfandel vinegars, though, and the differences between commercial and boutique bottlings become apparent. The word "vinegar" itself stems from the French vin aigre, or sour wine, and the best wine varietal vinegars as we know them today are aged naturally in the Orléans method. The technique's origins are easily traced: A couple of centuries ago, Orléans, an important city in the northeastern Loire region, was the center of the local wine trade. In those days, before transportation became rapid, the wine had often turned before it reached Orléans. Rather than allow the sour wine to go to waste, the city's inhabitants declared it a delicacy and created a happy demand for it.
The Orléans methodology is fairly straightforward. Large wood barrels are laid on their sides, bung holes up. They're filled about three-quarters with wine, which is inoculated only with the acetobacter. The vinegar-makers trust that culinary alchemy will then occur in its own time, and that the final product will retain the character of the original beverage. "We use natural wine that hasn't been treated in any way with sulfurs, which could flavor the vinegar," explains Walter "Wally" Nicolau, proprietor of Classic Wine Vinegar Company in Modesto.
Peggy O'Kelly, owner of Napa Valley's St. Helena Olive Oil Company, notes that "the quality of vinegar starts with the quality of wine." For her Cabernet Wine Vinegar Cuvée, she only sources from local wineries. "We use 100 percent Napa wines. Vintners call me with anywhere from one barrel to 2,200 gallons. It's not bad wine they want to get rid of, it's just extra."
The 700 gallons of St. Helena's recently launched Champagne vinegar were even more judiciously crafted. "We made it from a ten-year-old Napa sparkler rather than from white wine with a yeast disgorgement. Most people don't do it this way," she explains. "After it was released, we learned we were one of the only American companies to make vinegar from actual Champagne [sparkling wine]." She declines to name the winery from which she got the initial 12,000-bottle stock, however, a practice that ensures that her winemaking clients won't be labeled vinegar producers: "We're like the recycling plant here. Nobody wants to acknowledge us."
Nicolau, who "purchases wine in tankard loads," similarly maintains a vow of silence. A former dairy farmer, he bought his private-label business twelve years ago from his mentor, Ed Merrick, who had about 2,000 gallons in barrel at the time. Now the company, overseen by Nicolau, his wife, Donna, and their two sons, Walter "Sonny" III, 23 (also a fledgling farmstead goat cheese maker), and Tim, 20, bottles vinegars for 40 labels. Some are restaurant chains such as Houston's, but many are wineries such as B.R. Cohn, which want to offer such products in their tasting rooms and gift shops. More than a
decade since Nicolau took over, annual production now reaches 45,000-50,000 gallons. "Go into upscale stores and look at the vinegars. A good part of them come out of this facility," Nicolau claims. But most of his clients, who win prizes under their own labels - B.R. Cohn's Cabernet Vinegar, for example, was just awarded the gold medal at Jerry Mead's International Wine Competition - ask for confidentiality, since they are likely using wines other than their own for the vinegars. And Nicolau, who adds, "It's something of an insult for a winemaker to [also] be called a vinegar maker," is careful to honor their wishes.
When visiting his winery clients, he practices a different type of vigilance. "I put on a special suit and take off my shoes," he explains. "Our building has a very distinctive smell. The culture is in the air and could take hold [elsewhere]. Being a vinegar maker, I'm kind of like the plague." Indeed, the production of vinegar comes down to that aerated culture, the acetobacter. More colloquially, it's known as the mère de vinaigre, or "mother," a gelatinous mass that producers speak of as possessively as do little boys of their flesh-and-blood mommies.
Nicolau, one of the few Orléans artisans left in California, calls his mother a culture because "it's like a sourdough. We're always caring for it, always starting it and feeding it." Like sourdough starters, mothers can date back decades or even centuries. Pieces of them are frequently given to others as gifts or purchased in order to start a new cottage industry, and many of them have been passed down through the generations. For example, Greg Hinson's O Olive Oil Company, located in San Rafael, makes the most of a Zinfandel starter that was brought over from the Azores and has been in the family for 60-plus years.
Others have romantic histories. Originally belonging to Ed Merrick, Nicolau's acetobacter dates back to 1936. Merrick also taught Nicolau how to apply it. "I served as Ed's apprentice for two years. After every session, he'd say, 'Next time you come, I'll tell you how to do this.' He eventually passed away and I never got all his secrets," Nicolau muses. "But I kept all my journals from that time."
The mother for the vinegars that are brewed by the St. Helena Olive Oil Company goes back even farther. All the way back, in fact, to the Old World. Two generations ago, "an old Italian guy" carried a cask of his treasured vinegar with him when he emigrated, O'Kelly relates. After finally landing in Napa Valley, he bestowed a portion of the acetobacter on his neighbors, who were winemakers. The mother was added to one lot of their 1985 Cabernet Sauvignon, and it has been aging in 120-gallon puncheons ever since.
O'Kelly bought the unadulterated vinegar and the mother from the winery when she decided to expand her olive oil production in 1994. "The Cask 85 is so mellow and soft, people ask if I've added herbs and then taken them out," she says.
She has only about 1,000 gallons of the precious Cask 85 vinegar left for sale, but uses the original mother for "younger stuff," namely her Cabernet Wine Vinegar Cuvée.
Once the acetobacter has been introduced into the barrels, the bung holes are covered with cheesecloths that allow oxygen - but not insects - to penetrate. Then the liquid is left to convert on its own. "It takes 15 to 24 months to go from womb to tomb," Nicolau, an erstwhile hobbyist winemaker who ferments his vinegar in redwood, says. O'Kelly prefers oak. "I buy the wine, introduce the mother culture and age it in French oak for at least a year," she explains. Her white wine vinegar has the same organic origins, but goes first to a processing plant where the wine is poured into stainless steel tanks. "This maintains purity," she says. "Afterward, it also goes into oak."
Wine vinegars made in the Orléans fashion are frequently strong with an acidity of 60 to 70 grain, or 6 to 7 percent (for comparison's sake, rice vinegars hover at 4 percent acidity), and, as such, have earned the reputation of being difficult to pair with wines themselves.
Difficult but not impossible. Chiarello says sparkling wines can hold up against NapaStyle's Champagne vinegar, as long as its acidity has been reduced (in a pan sauce, for instance). Comparatively, the Zinfandel vinegar has "such a sweet, round flavor that you can use it like a balsamic. As it is, it's already very friendly to big reds."
In general, though, "vinegar-based dishes can make the wines flabby," says Jeffrey Jake, executive chef for the Lodge at Pebble Beach and brother to St. Helena's O'Kelly. (He developed many of the recipes on her Web site.) To avoid this scenario, "Look for wines higher in acid, which will preserve the wood and keep the structure from being compromised," he advises. "Of course, there are other components in a dish - whether you use thyme or rosemary, for instance - that might change your decision. But from a vinegar standpoint, dishes that have fruity red vinegars in them do better with a French Burgundy or an Oregon Pinot Noir, while crisp white wine vinegars do well with Alsatian Rieslings and Sauvignon Blancs."
Certainly, one of the most appealing qualities of these vinegars is that they retain the flavor profiles and characteristics of the original wines. This is particularly true of Sparrow Lane's Zinfandel vinegar. Toohey first crushed his highly regarded Zinfandel wine in 1994 and followed it up with vinegar converted from the wine in 1998. "We started playing around with it as a home project," Philip Toohey says, confessing that the currently coveted comestible has serendipitous roots. "Through the winemaking process, sometimes you take a stacked barrel and it's been on the bottom, and by the time you get to it, it's turned. You think, well, we can use this as a starter. It's sustainable agriculture, and because we have our own organic gardens at the house and such, we decided to go forth."
The French Laundry's Thomas Keller was among the first to sample the vinegar when it was ready, and he encouraged Toohey and his wife, Denise, to distribute it. Her background in the gourmet food business - she has owned the Napa Valley Roasting Company for 18 years - also helped with what Philip calls the "learning curve, which has led us to try to capture the varietal flavors and offer choices," including Cabernet, Merlot and Champagne vinegars. After all, he notes, "You don't take one red wine and drink it at every meal. You want Cab with steak, Pinot with lamb. It's just simply choice on the varietal side. Look at greens - you've got radicchio, arugula. Or olive oils - even the average consumer knows the difference between them. But when I asked chefs about their choice of vinegars most looked at me like I'm an idiot. It became apparent that [they] didn't have the choice."
Sharon Cohn says that deliberately courting the byproduct seems like "a natural progression. The passion people have for vinegar is incredible." Cohn and husband Bruce, who founded their Sonoma Valley winery in 1984, had already begun, in 1991, to press olive oil from the property's 125-year-old picholine olive trees that had been imported from France in the 19th century. "We basically decided to go into wine varietal vinegars in 1993 because of our love for [enjoying] great wine and great food together. We wanted to create the whole ambience of that," she says.
To that end, the Cohns met with Nicolau and developed the taste profile they wanted. "We determined the age of wood we would use, for instance, and that a touch of balsamic in the Cabernet [vinegar] would add sweetness and round it off at the end," she says. In addition to the Cabernet vinegar, the Cohns also bottle, under Nicolau's auspices, a Chardonnay, Champagne and raspberry Champagne versions.
Such a spectrum is a plus when it comes to cooking. "Vinegar is what I call a 'common denominator' ingredient. It can be used in everything from appetizers to drinks," writes Gourmet Vinegars author Marsha Peters Johnson. "And with the addition of different vinegars, you can have an endless variety of flavors." Keep in mind, though, that the type of dish being prepared dictates what kind of vinegar to employ - high-acid ones, such as St. Helena Olive Oil Company's Cabernet vinegar, are ideal for slow-braised dishes such as osso buco, Jake says; Chiarello recommends splashing his mellow NapaStyle Zinfandel vinegar over pan-fried trout.
Bizcaya's Loughhead uses vinegar as a finishing agent in salads and main dishes, and as a coating or gloss. "I look at viscosity, thickness, rawness, and I like a little age to it," he says. "I don't want anything too overbearing. Aged vinegars have a characteristic that makes them a better finisher than ingredient." He cites the "heavy and sweet" O Olive Oil Company Zinfandel vinegar as being especially good for this purpose.
Not all the single-varietal vinegars available from California producers are brewed in the Orléans method from California wines. O Olive Oil Company's Sherry vinegar starts with palomino grapes that are left to age outdoors in the mellow sunshine. From these grapes, a wine is laid down solera-style in white oak barrels, and a starter that has been kept in the family for 60 years is introduced. After two years of aging, a touch of apricot wine is added to lend some fruit to the finish.
Likewise, the Late Riesling Vinegar made by Cuisine Perel is a fortified white wine vinegar that has been doctored with both riesling and white grape juice. The company, which places its products in gourmet stores and winery gift shops, was founded in 1981 by Sylvia and Leonardo Perel, an Argentine couple who settled in Tiburon. "We came from a culture that is very influenced by Italy... Leonardo was fascinated by California wines and started going to UC-Berkeley to learn more about [them], so it was only natural for us to include wine in every one of our recipes," Sylvia Perel writes on the company Web site. Two years ago, new owner Mark Brichall purchased Cuisine Perel, but "the vinegar is still made from the same recipe and formula," according to sales and marketing manager Maile Cooper.
The philosophy of wine varietal vinegar supply-and-demand continues to evolve. "We've seen a change in the consumer's preference for vinegars," Nicolau notes. "The old standby, the strong Italian 7 percent acidity red wine vinegar, has become offensive. [The consumer's] increased knowledge of food has led to the desire for less-acidic vinegars."
As a result, the Classic Wine Vinegar Company occasionally presses its own grapes and has expanded into the more moderately flavored fruit vinegars.
Even so, these infused vinegars, a trend that Flavored Vinegars author Chiarello launched on the international market in the 1980s, start as premium wines. Peters Johnson, who was the proprietor of Oregon's Own Gourmet Vinegars company before penning her 1986 compendium, which has recently been re-released, advises readers on how to make (and cook with) flavored vinegars at home: "If you are seeking the best in [base] vinegars, look to [those] made from top-quality wines. The taste and the body of the grapes will shine through. Read the labels carefully and see if you can determine the vinegar's origin, acid level and place of manufacture."
In actuality, the finely tuned nature of these vinegars almost demands an equivalent attention to packaging details; therefore, a bon vivant really can judge a vinegar by its bottle (not to mention its price tag). The charmingly evocative Cask 85, for instance, is presented in squat, shapely vessels that resemble old Port bottles, while both the O Olive Oil Company and B.R. Cohn use slender frosted bottles for their Champagne vinegars, suggesting the light effervescence of the formative alcohol.
Like olive oil, sea salt and peppercorns, wine vinegar has become a prized specialty item. As such, it will no doubt continue to gain in refinement. Soon, when someone says, "Please pass the Cabernet," you'll have to ask if they're referring to the wine or the salad dressing.
Features Editor Jen L. Karetnick is also the food columnist for Miami New Times and the restaurant critic for New Times Broward/Palm Beach.
Basic Vinaigrette
From B.R. Cohn Olive Oil Company
- 1/3 cup B.R. Cohn Wine Vinegar
- 1/2 teaspoon sea salt (optional)
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
- 2/3 cup B.R. Cohn Certified California Extra-Virgin Olive Oil
Whisk together salt and vinegar. Add the pepper and oil and whisk again. Use immediately. If the dressing sits long enough to separate, simply whisk again.
Makes 1 cup
Miami Mango Salsa
By Jen L. Karetnick
- 2 mangoes, pitted, peeled and diced
- 1 small Vidalia onion, finely diced
- 1 Scotch bonnet chili pepper, minced
- 1 Key lime, juiced
- 1 tablespoon Champagne vinegar
- 2 tablespoons minced cilantro
- Sea salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
In a nonreactive bowl, mix all the ingredients. Refrigerate until ready to use. Before serving, allow salsa to come to room temperature.
Makes 2 cups
Cipollini Onions
in Zinfandel Vinegar
By Chef Michael Chiarello, NapaStyle
- 2 cups water
- 1 cup NapaStyle Zinfandel Vinegar
- 3 tablespoons sugar
- 2 teaspoons Gray salt
- 1 bay leaf
- 21/2 pounds Italian cipollini onions, peeled and left whole
In a 2-quart nonreactive saucepan, bring all ingredients to a boil, except for the onions. Reduce the heat and simmer for 5 minutes.
Add the onions, and adjust the heat to maintain a simmer. Continue to cook for about 10 minutes, or until tender. Remove the onions with a slotted spoon into a bowl. Allow liquid to cool, then pour over onions.
Serves 4 to 6
Soft Polenta with Leeks
From St. Helena Olive Oil Company
- 3 tablespoons lemon oil
- 3 large leeks (white and pale green parts only), thinly sliced
- 2 cups water
- 1/4 cup Cask 85 Cabernet Vinegar
- 2 cups chicken or vegetable stock
- 1 bay leaf
- 1 cup polenta
- 1/3 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
- Sea salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Remove pan from heat. Discard bay leaf. Stir in remaining lemon oil and Parmesan cheese. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Serves 4 to 6
Tuscan-Style Pasta Salad
From Sparrow Lane Farms
- 1/2 pound orzo
- 1/2 cup Niçoise olives, pitted
- 1/2 cup cherry tomatoes
- 1/2 small red onion, finely chopped
- 1/2 cup flat leaf parsley
- 11/2 tablespoons capers
- 1 tablespoon Sparrow Lane Cabernet Vinegar
- 1 clove garlic, minced
- Kosher salt and pepper to taste
- 1/4 cup olive oil
Bring medium pot of salted water to boil. Add orzo and cook until al dente. Drain and rinse under cold water. Rinse again. Add olives, tomatoes, onion, parsley and capers.
In a small bowl, combine vinegar, garlic and a pinch of salt and pepper. Whisk in the olive oil and stir the dressing into the pasta salad.
Serves 4
Raspberry Seafood Sauté
From Gourmet Vinegars
By Marsha Peters Johnson
- 1/4 cup minced onion
- 2 tablespoons butter
- 3 tablespoons Raspberry Champagne Vinegar
- 1/4 cup vegetable or fish stock
- 8 ounces fresh tiny shrimp, cooked
- 8 ounces fresh scallops
- 1/4 cup sour cream
- 1 tablespoon diced tomato
- Fresh raspberries as garnish
In a large skillet or wok, sauté onion in butter until transparent, about 3-4 minutes. Add vinegar, stock, shrimp and scallops and cook briefly, about 5 minutes, stirring often. Scallops should be opaque. Stir in sour cream over low heat; add tomato at the last minute. Serve at once with buttered noodles or rice. Garnish with fresh raspberries, if desired.
Serves 4
Pan-Seared Halibut
with Roasted Beet Vinaigrette
By Chef Jeffrey Jake,
The Lodge at Pebble Beach
- 1/2 pound baby beets, washed and dried
- 1/2 cup olive oil
- Salt and pepper to taste
- 4 6-ounce halibut steaks
- 1/2 cup vegetable stock
- 1/4 cup St. Helena Balsamic Vinegar
- 1 tablespoon St. Helena Aged Cabernet Vinegar
- 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
- 1 teaspoon chopped basil
- 1 small clove of garlic, chopped
- 2 teaspoons soy sauce
Toss the beets with olive oil, salt and pepper. Roast in a 350° oven, covered, for approximately 40 minutes. Cool until the beets can be handled, and then peel and dice them for the vinaigrette.
Pan-sear the halibut. When fully cooked (about 4 minutes per side), turn off the heat and remove the fish. Deglaze the pan with vegetable stock. Add the vinegars to the stock and then pour the mixture into a bowl. Add the remaining ingredients, except the beets and the olive oil, and mix. Slowly add the oil while continuing to stir. Add the beets and season to taste.
Serves 4
Quail in Cabernet Wine Vinegar
From St. Helena Olive Oil Company
- 2 1/2 pounds of quail
- 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
- 2 tablespoons St. Helena Olive Oil Company Extra-Virgin Olive Oil
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 5 to 6 cloves garlic, peeled, crushed and chopped (2 tablespoons)
- 1 1/3 cups of chopped onions
- 1/2 cup St. Helena Olive Oil Company Red Wine Vinegar
- 1 cup coarsely chopped tomato
- 1 tablespoon chopped fresh chives, for garnish
Heat the butter and oil in a 12" skillet. Season the quail with 1/2 teaspoon each of the salt and pepper.
Arrange the quail pieces in the skillet and brown them, covered over medium-high heat for 12 minutes, turning them every few minutes. (Add a few tablespoons of water if pan becomes dry.) The quail should be brown and crispy and the juices well crystallized.
Transfer the quail to a dish. Add the garlic and onions to the juices in the pan. Sauté for 2 to 3 minutes. Add the vinegar and cook, stirring to dissolve the solidified juices, for about 2 minutes, or until the mixture is reduced to a glaze.
Add tomato and remaining salt and pepper. Return quail to the sauce and heat gently for 3 to 5 minutes.
Sprinkle with the chives and serve immediately.
Serves 4
Roasted Pears with
Cinnamon-Spiced Whipped Cream
By Chef Michael Chiarello, NapaStyle
- 3 tablespoons dark brown sugar
- 4 tablespoons granulated sugar
- 6 tablespoons Muscat grape juice (1 cup grapes, pulverized and strained) or Napa Style Cabernet Grape Juice
- 3/4 cup mango vinegar or NapaStyle Zinfandel Vinegar
- 11/4 teaspoons ground cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
- 4 ripe pears, peeled, halved and cored (leave stems on for presentation)
- 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 1/2 cup heavy cream
- 1-2 tablespoons toasted and roughly chopped pistachios
Bring brown sugar, 2 tablespoons granulated sugar and grape juice to a boil in a small, nonreactive saucepan. Stir until sugar dissolves. Remove from heat, add vinegar, 1 teaspoon cinnamon and pepper. Stir again. Preheat oven to 450°. Place pears in a nonreactive bowl and pour vinegar mixture over them. Toss to coat well and marinate while oven preheats. Drain pears and reserve syrup.
In a nonreactive, ovenproof sauté pan large enough to hold the pears in one layer, heat butter over medium-high heat until butter begins to brown. Add pears and sear on each side until lightly browned, 1 to 2 minutes per side. Add reserved syrup and toss to coat fruit well. Place in preheated oven and bake until tender, about 15 minutes, basting with pan juices once or twice.
Remove from oven and let cool about 10 minutes in cooking liquid. Remove pears to a plate and bring cooking liquid to a boil over medium-high heat. Cook until reduced by about 1/4 to a light syrup consistency. (Recipe may be prepared ahead to here.)
When ready to serve, whip cream in a bowl. When cream begins to foam, add remaining 2 tablespoons granulated sugar by small spoonfuls. When cream forms soft peaks, fold in remaining 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon.
Divide pears and cooking syrup among 4 plates and top with cinnamon-spiced whipped cream and chopped nuts.
Serves 4
JLK
