AmCham arrow Publications arrow Topics Archive arrow Topics Archive 2006 arrow Vol.36- No.1 arrow Thai Cuisine Throws Down the Gauntlet to Western Wine
Thai Cuisine Throws Down the Gauntlet to Western Wine PDF Print E-mail

The heavy use of chilies presents a challenge when pairing Thai food with wine, but a bit of educated experimentation turns up a few solutions.

BY BRIAN ASMUS

 

With the imminent departure from Taiwan of food-and-wine ace Mary Nicholls, I plotted one last food pairing to ride on her coattails. This time, we decided to really ratchet up the challenge by attempting to match Western wine with Thai food. Eschewing the highly localized "Thai" food at numerous chain restaurants in Taipei, we opted to go with Patara (No. 12, Lane 247, DunHua South Road, Section 1; Tel: 2731-5288). We were not disappointed.

Patara immediately charms. The small room at the entrance opens to a stone path set in crystal-clear water. Leafy plants block the view of the quiet street just off the DunHua-RenAi circle. The full-length windows ensure that this tranquil setting is very much a part of the dining experience. The walls, a rich creamy hue, are accented by retro 1960s-style color blocks. The simple matte-finish, peach-colored tiles reduce the potential ponderousness of the heavy ebony furniture and cabinets, while elegant Thai-style adornments effectively put the icing on the cake.

We would be testing the following highly diverse wines, all of which are available at Evergreet Wine Stores: August Kesseler Rheingau Riesling 2004 (NT$500), Muga Rioja Rose 2003 (NT$520), Rapitala Nero d'Avola Sicily 2004 (NT$600), and Baron Monbarduc Bergerac 2003 (NT$350). The Rioja rose charmed in that it has none of the insipid bubble-gum flavors of White Zinfandel varieties like the notoriously nasty Beringer from California. We deliberately selected wines that would suit most people's budgets, while requesting that the restaurant not tone down its regular use of spices to fit in artificially with our plans.

Nicholls prefaced her comments by raising a red flag right off the bat. In general, Western wine and Thai food are not well-suited. "They simply do not go together," she said, explaining that a lot of chili is used in Thai cuisine - a major no-no when it comes to wine. "Chili deadens the palate, though some wines can be pressed into being served comfortably." That said, Nicholls stressed that "any wine with Thai food is going to be a bit of a waste because of the chili."

To get around this, Nicholls recommended going with sweeter, white wines, particularly Gewurtztraminer. Yet, many, including myself, are going to find it a hard struggle to drink such sweet wines throughout the evening. I urged her to help me find ways to get around this even if the results were less than optimal.

Sauvignon Blanc is generally to be avoided because of its higher acidity levels, which become unbearable when drunk with acidic foods like Thai dishes. Neither Pinotage or Gamay was going to win out either because of the banana-oil notes of the two wines. Additionally, Proven硬e roses would become excessively bitter in a metallic fashion. Perhaps, Shiraz with its strong fruit flavors? Or better yet, a nicely wooded, fat Chardonnay? Or even a Muscat, thought the sweetness levels might be too much for some.

Finally, Nicholls suggested beer. I made a wry face. We laughed and agreed to slog through.

The Riesling was a true delight and a real bargain at NT$500. The nose was all sour green apple with a pleasantly high acidity that effectively balanced the sweetness. Nicholls' husband, Colin, was especially gratified to note that the Riesling was to European, not North American or Australian tastes, which he finds often overwhelm in their sickly, cloying sweetness. We couldn't help but notice, however, that the lemongrass-scented candles in the restaurant were having a major influence on our perceptions of the wine, not necessarily bad, but certainly clouding our judgment.

Our first challenge was the Hoy shell nung manow (NT$350), which consisted of poached sea scallops on the shell served with lime, chili, and mint, and a Thai-style grilled vegetable salad with spicy basil dressing (NT$220). The salad included cucumber, eggplant, carrot, bell pepper, asparagus, fresh basil, chopped raw garlic, and cilantro (coriander) with vinegar and oil. The basil was the predominant flavor, followed by harsh garlic.

Nicholls' frequent refrain is that wine and salad never mix. "High acidity levels in vegetables are not going to go very well with wine. They, particularly asparagus and also spinach, raise the acid levels perceptibly with the result that the flavors become bitter and harsh." Double this in the case of green chilies, which easily destroy the palate and turn flavors into one-dimensional greenness. This was true of both the Riesling and the Rioja, with the latter particularly harsh and bitter because of the garlic.

The scallops, however, with their protein notes, were more than enough to stand up to the sweet onions, cilantro, garlic, and lime. The Riesling altered pleasantly from green apple to sweet apple in the mouth as the protein of the scallops (with roe) removed much of the underlying acidity. The overall effect, however, was not unbearably sweet.

The Rioja rose also provided a fair match. The scallops raised the fruitiness of the very dry rosé, while the wine really pulled out the cilantro notes. When the wine was sipped solely with the roe, however, the results were less favorable, though the Rioja did foster some desirably woody notes.

Lost in reverie

During the course of our dinner, and due to the effects of repeated nips from the wine glass, I started to reminisce about how Nicholls and I had become acquainted. "Hi, I'm Mary Nicholls," she had said with a big, infectious smile, while holding out her hand not as a greeting but to take the bag of wine that I had brought to a British Social Group function. Nicholls was conducting a presentation on how to match wine and food. Four different wines - Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonnay, Shiraz, and Cabernet Sauvignon - were matched with eight ingredients, including raisins, lime wedges, lettuce, blue cheese, and pate. The fascinating presentation had me hooked immediately. I arranged an interview for the China Post.

My reverie was broken by the arrival of two new wine glasses for the d'Avola and Bergerac. The former delivered a floral bouquet of carnations, Sweet Williams, and violets. "You always smell violets with these kinds of wine," snorted Nicholls, though she did pick up on the carnations. The effect was also shaped in no small part by the lemongrass candles. We requested that they be extinguished even though the heady mix was not in itself unpleasant.

The smooth earthiness of the d'Avola was balanced with some nice full fruit flavors. Meanwhile, recalling Nicholls' recommendation that young, slightly harsh reds go well with paté and other strongly flavored ingredients, I had decided to include the robust, hearty, country-style Bergerac. Initially, the Bergerac emitted notes of cedar wood and minerals, but these mellowed the longer the bottle was open. The next three dishes were a braised New Zealand lamb in Massamun curry (NT$330), char-grilled tofu with green peppercorn sauce (NT$230) and tamarind-glazed crispy duck confit with a sprinkling of crisp shallots and chili (NT$330). With the lamb curry, which was perfectly balanced in terms of creaminess, spiciness, savoriness, and earthiness, the Riesling went very well indeed in Colin's and my view, less so for Mary. I found it brought out the peanut flavors, sweetening the Riesling to create toffee essences. "Exactly," agreed Nicholls, "and that is precisely what I dislike about it. I loathe toffee!"

The Rioja rosé was initially harsh and bitter but this softened while opening up green-strawberry, green-pepper, and rhubarb aftertastes that were not undesirable. To Nicholls, the flavors were more akin to damsons, a kind of plum with high acidity levels. To her, therefore, it was an essence of grassiness rather than green peppers. Neither the d'Avola nor the Bergerac were much of a fit. For the former, it was all bitter notes, while the latter turned to turpentine, tar, kerosene, and coal.

With the Riesling, the char-grilled tofu threw out lovely smoky notes. With the rose, burnt bourbon was highly evident in an attractive way, while the wine caused the cilantro flavors to spike intensely. The d'Avola, however, was too bitter, the burnt flavors being too much ashy charcoal and sooty smoke. Surprisingly, my bet was paying off with the Bergerac. This turned to smoked cherries - think of the fruit on the edge of a slightly burned cherry pie and you begin to get the idea.

Finally, the duck arrived. This was probably my favorite dish and really underlined just how good the chef at the Patara really is. While we have been focusing mostly on the wine, all three of us agreed that the menu that night was absolutely sterling in terms of quality of ingredients, spicing, execution, and presentation. The duck was placed on a bed of heavily glazed pineapple.

Glazed-apple flavors came out nicely with the Riesling, though Nicholls found the combination a bit too sweet if the glazed pineapple on the bottom was included. The Rioja rose pushed the flavors of the duck higher, though the taste of the wine itself disappeared. The d'Avola again proved a major disappointment. It was all metallic bitterness like sucking a copper penny. The Bergerac, however, rode to the rescue. The robust heartiness stood up to the fat in the duck, delivering some slightly fruity notes out of the duck. If too much of the pineapple and glaze were included, the result was a flavor akin to that of bacon fat. Unless you happen to be into that kind of flavor, the result was not something that most diners would strive for.

The restaurant manager arrived to encourage us to check out the dessert selection. I opted for some very intensely flavored banana cake, Mary for the brown-rice pudding. Both were a nice touch for an evening of stellar cuisine.

During our departure, our waitress handed each of us a paper lotus flower with one candle and one stick of incense. Apparently, there was some kind of Thai festival taking place. We lighted our candles and incense, pushing them into the pool of water along the entry walkway. Soon, the candle flickered and fizzled out, the incense leaving a perceptibly sweet fragrance that lingered and then was gone.
 
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