Indian Influx.

Brio Shiraz

It takes an almost unreasonable amount of butter and cream to make a good “Dal Makhani.” You also need tomatoes, black lentils and a slew of fresh ground spices and other sundries. Everyone has their own process, but I like a little more chili powder in mine, which could be odd to others who like it without the sense of fiery alarms. It’s supposed to be a creamy, savory indulgence that takes its lycopene base somewhat further than our “Alla Vodka” uncertainties. I am aware that every curry dish is different depending on whose grandma is at the helm of a hot stove; but the best part of that, is the standard to which we conform her traditions. Which nonetheless, are always personal interpretations. Standards are funny conjectures though, especially those that are sometimes set out by regional laws, or even the modesty of indigenous forms of savoir-faire. Granted, all this talk about home-bound culinary rites and delicious entrées, have me wondering what the hell to serve with Indian food tonight.

How about Indian wine? Would that be so wrong? For the threat of anyone’s own personal politics getting in the way, here’s something you didn’t expect... It’s actually really good. Pretentious, if not close-minded, ensuing snorts and nasal snickering are imminent. Even if the public would paint me as a daredevil, there’s no point in anyone wasting their oxygen only to cackle from the interior of their nose. Besides, the confluence of Pinot Grigio either bold, or benign, that’s consumed in the U.S, only accounts for our inability to  utilize selective reasoning and at least one of the periodic elements that enable life on this planet. 

Maybe I should point out sooner than later, that Merlot is not part of the equation tonight. Rather, some of the underdog varietals should be showcased in this play of traditions. Why? Because we’re tired of assuming that the one grape everyone has seen next to Tandoor specialties, or a Bazar of Chaat starters, is going to have total jurisdiction here. What I am willing to say, is that the rich, red clay soils, similar to that of Australia, create wine that has all the equilibrium one needs from pristine fruit and a marketing theme entrenched in musical terminology. The “Brio:” A Shiraz that’s juicy and invigorating, with blackberry-plum, cracked pepper and chocolate making pretense on the “Good Earth” winery’s future promise. Their “Basso” Cabernet is something of a marvel too, considering it does not lean too graciously towards Cabs that underlie stark currant fruit and scathing oak. Rather, the essence of cola, cocoa bean and mocha are contrast to dollops of boysenberry. The “Aarohi” Blanc is just as austere; with a bevy of yellow fruits, sweetgrass and tousled hay, there’s almost a sense of uncertainty as to why anyone bothers to chill whites which would be otherwise deemed as crisp and flinty. 

Aarohi Sauv Blanc

For a country without any sort of appellations system, or denominational laws, the wine is nothing far from a proper anomaly. Aside from the traditional European cultivations, March is usually ideal for the harvesting, considering the threat of monsoons in the traditional old-world, new-world timeframe of the fall season. Also, harvesting takes place ideally during cooler weather conditions, whereas the crushing of said grapes rallies winemakers to use warmer weather as a viticultural marker. However, great  appeal lies 120 miles Northeast of Mumbai in the “Nashik” valley, where Good Earth, among other producers, have laid their claim. Introducing North America to Indian wine has been somewhat of a gamble as of recent, due to the lack of consumer thresholds; but with time, the appeal will inevitably grow stronger as other emergent nations have proven. 

I cannot say whether the parallel between my trademark Vindaloo and a bottle of Indian Viognier will ever exist, but I’m hoping to see it happen sometime soon. I could imagine having the right varietal around for every traditional dish that I painstakingly try to master, but even with a lifetime of cooking, I cannot say if I’m parlaying new traditions, or just emphasizing my own. Regardless, I know there’s something for every “Bhel Puri,” or “Masala Dosa,” so don’t think we’re disrupting the natural order of things. 

I dare you to find a match-up for Sambar though.

Brian Maniotis

Westchester Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us online @: westchesterwine.com