Every so often luck shines upon me and the lines between work and play are blurred by a stunning New World pinot noir. In this case, there were no lines at all, just a free-flow ebb of amazing culinary gems and beautiful gifts from the vine, and one pinot became two pinot, and three pinot became four.
A dear friend of mine, Stacey Marcelo, is the director of marketing and communications at The Langham Hong Kong. A fellow foodie and wanderlust traveler, she knew that I would be down for this event. She had given me a heads-up a few months ago about Langham’s first Food and Wine Festival. While on paper the lineup already looked amazing – flying in Michelin-starred chefs from Spain, Italy, France, England, Australia and New Zealand — the event itself far exceeded my expectations. You see, a chef may have their stars but like a fish out of water, when taken out of their natural environment, survival can be difficult, let alone success. Also, in my experience, stars are not necessarily good judges; everything is relative. A meal has to appeal to your senses, your memories, excite your tongue and play with your mind. Then add the perfect wine pairing that makes your jaw drop. And no matter how little you know, like the old toothless lady in Babette’s Feast, pure joy shall creep into your face no matter how hard you try to hide it.
I’ve never been a pinot girl. I like the more brazen and tannic varieties found in the wines of Southwest France like Tannat; I find comfort and solace in the classic cabernet-merlot blends of Bordeaux and, well, six years of living in France will definitely make you partial to Gallic wines. I’ve so often snubbed the New World, perhaps giving a nod or two to some great Chilean Carmenere or a nice heady Argentinean Malbec, but ultimately my brain has been shaped to believe that the Old World is always superior, both in wine and in food. Call it lack of exposure, small-mindedness or perhaps simply a nostalgic longing for the bygone era of history and classicism.
I left to go to Hong Kong for the Langham’s first Food and Wine Festival in search of big-named classics and taking a bite of the imported Michelin-starred chefs from the continent and found that, well, the biggest surprises came from Down Under.
DUCK CRAWL, DUCK WADDLE
The first event I attended was a Duck Crawl organized by Melbourne-based wine expert Roy Moorfield. He lives and breathes the fact that duck is best paired with pinot noir and parades around the world with his infamous duck stick leading happy soldiers like the pinot Pied Piper through menus of duck and wine pairings. In a short span of three hours we had gone through at least 10 different pinot noirs and eight different duck dishes, starting off at The Langham Hotel’s two-Michelin-starred T’ang Court, where we had a roast Peking duck of such heavenly crispness — no greasy fat, just rich and crisp, paired with a young Rowley Fault Australian pinot.
We then ended at Langham Place’s equally Michelin-starred Ming Court, with an equally decadent array of duck dishes, notably the black truffle-stuffed duck and duck ravioli soup. Imagine a fat, plump, juicy bird roasting slowly, filled with dark, heady truffles then paired with an astonishingly sophisticated New Zealand pinot. The Muddy Water Waipara 2010 was young and feisty yet had all the refinement of a Victorian-era debutante in bloom. It had to be hands-down my favorite of the evening. Same goes for the last dish, which with the Muddy Water was a match made in heaven: a duck-filled wonton on a bed of soft, velvety custard swimming in a thick, rich broth. The red fruit notes, the depth of black truffle and that NZ minerality … and because I’m starting to sound so overly pretentious, in layman’s terms the two together were a knockout. The wines, the food, the friends old and new, in the happy merry-go-round of tables and cheers… As if we didn’t have enough, Stacey and I waddled like the ducks we had consumed over to Langham Place’s wine cellar, where Zachary graciously served us a bevy of cool, honeyed dessert wines. Ah. It’s a tough job but someone’s got to do it.
OYSTER MIKE SAYS, ‘DON’T BE SHY!’
The following day we had lunch at The Langham’s L’Eclipse Buffet, where they showcased fresh oysters flown in from the US and Australia. A man dressed not unlike Crocodile Dundee, in welcome stark contrast to all the livery and white chefs’ coats around him, happily shucked oysters on command. The ex-oyster farmer is now managing director of Seafood Exporters Australia and takes serious pride in his work.
The Aussie gems were just how I like my oysters: slightly flat and clear on the protrusion and creamy and dense in the cusp. They were small and sweet, that happy taste of iodine that makes me feel like Hemingway in Paris. I wiped off a round of six along with the buffet’s plethora of chilled seafood. I gingerly spied the oyster bar once more and he called out, “Don’t be shy! That’s what a buffet is for. I’ll keep ’em coming!”
NEW ZEALAND:
ONE TO WATCH OUT FOR
We’ve all heard of Australia being an amazing foodie place, but what of New Zealand? In all honesty, the Kiwi team comprised of chef Banjamin Bayly of the Grove, the Grove’s owner Michal Dearth and Italian turned NZ winemaker Antonio Pasquale had just swept the competition. Their authenticity, honesty, passion and perhaps a secret culinary Haka dance had led them to be the most striking combination of the whole festival. I must say that the Old World snob in me almost backed out of chef Bayly’s master class. I was tired. Full of duck and oysters and just wanted space to indulge in chef Albert Roux’s gala dinner.
A serious case of foot-in-mouth disease, I was blown away by the skill and humility of this chef and his entire support group. So much so that I signed up for the gala dinner and pulled some friends to come as well. What, exactly, is New Zealand cuisine? “Honestly, I don’t quite know. There are all these chefs that have left and are starting to come back… Ask me in 20 years, then perhaps I can give you an answer.”
It’s an exciting time for them — a land of bounty, coldwater fish, beautiful dairy, a harmony with the indigenous people. So compelling is the country that two foreigners have made it their home. Michael Dearth, a US native, has long adopted New Zealand. “It’s an amazing place! I just fell in love with it.” Antonio Pasquale has also settled in to make breathtakingly simple wines in the Italian fashion. “In Italy, wines are one step back from the food. It is there to support the dish.” He does, however, have one amazing innovation like the rose wine made with red pinot grapes where the “skin just hugs the wine, rendering it a soft, pale blush like the color of a baby’s bum and the faint scent of roses.”
It seems like they have a real sensibility to the land and nature that is reflected in the food and wine. During the class chef Bayly kept talking about their fisherman Simon Waters, who goes out every morning to catch whatever wants to be caught. It seems like their dishes are built around what nature has to offer and not trying to make nature produce what you want. As he was preparing his mackerel dish he caressed it lovingly … he spoke of the salmon like a strong lean athlete “swimming at 60 kilometer per hour for their entire lives.” He shared the story of the octopus trap filled with scallops that is always open and, well, “the octopus can come and go as he pleases.”
His food is well balanced. Not trying to be anything but supportive of the main ingredient. Not bound by classicism and yet not overwhelmed by newfangled techniques. Everything was just right. It was all very personal, right down to the hand-carried sand on my plate and the sea pebble I have sitting on my desk. A sincere favorite? Mackerel is a lowly fish that was taken to another level of culinary nirvana. Grilled and smoked with hay, tossed in a light, Asian-inspired dressing; soft, tender bits of octopus; fresh, lively pieces of broccoli; creamy avocado; the crunch of cucumbers and the tartness of apples; sweet, crispy shallots and a sharp, cool horseradish sorbet. Paired with a Pasquale Riesling 16 that was so alluring Mr. Pasquale described it as a woman with whom he doesn’t “want a boring relationship with.” It was that sublime balance that one tries to recreate. No caviar. No foie gras. No truffle. No high-priced, flashy ingredients. Just the best produce cooked with love and respect.
TRANSITORY CONCLUSIONS
Even throughout the gala dinner, the test was to move beyond the sea and into the land. The quail and pigeon dishes were so equally spectacular that all decorum went out the window as I used my fingers to eat that plump little quail leg. Pasquale’s Pinot Noir 2010 was just as beautiful. We had all convinced chef Bayly and Michael to come out for a drink with the rowdy Filipino bunch. The night continued with Limoncello and ended at 5 a.m. in a shawarma joint with a garlic-sauce war that was far from refined.
Looking back I can conclude that, well, this is what happens when you put serious, passionate food and wine people together. Laughter with new friends and old friends; deep, enlightening conversations about culinary perspectives and trends; moments of silence in awe at beautiful food broken by the boisterous shouts of “Cheers!” and a warm-hearted camaraderie in knowing that you’re with people who can enjoy pigeon in cherry with pinot noir just as much as a greasy shawarma and a beer. Oh, and the happy realization stumbling home in a taxi that, hey! It’s all for work.