Pear and Pinot (Grigio That Is)

Ginger Pear Chicken and 2008 3 Blind Moose Pinot Grigio: 5/5

Last night, overlooking a relaxed lake Michigan bathed in burnt yellows and oranges of the setting sun, I got a craving for something seasonal. So, perched on my orange couch, I thought of the flavors of the season I hadn’t had this year. I’ve tasted the crisp crunch of a fresh picked apple, the smooth creaminess of pumpkin soup, and turkey, stuffing, and cranberries are all just around the corner, what else was there?

Pears, juicy and ripe with pulp that seems to melt like butter in your mouth. So since I gorged myself trying nearly half of The Cheesecake Factory menu this past week, I wanted to make something that was lighter, yet seasonal. So I found this recipe for ginger pear chicken. http://busycooks.about.com/od/chickenbreastrecipes/r/gingerpearchick.htm

Although there were 4 1/2 stars, this recipe was only reviewed by two people, but I was willing to take a chance and doctor things accordingly. As I pondered over the recipe in my head, I decided fennel, with its slight anise flavor, and dried cranberries, with tartness and sweetness, would provide more complexity to the dish. A prior reviewer recommended topping the dish with a drizzling of balsamic vinegar, which I would suggest as well. The additional acidity, adds a mouth watering effect, and plays well with the the tart and sweet flavors already in the dish.

I’d like to take a minute and talk about ginger. Ginger, like potatoes, carrots, beets, and parsnips, is a root, and an ugly one at that. Where as carrots and potatoes tend to be cone shaped and oblong ovals, ginger is tuber, which basically means there is no rhyme or reason for the shape of this veggie. The first time I used ginger, I was intimidated to say the least. Here I am, holding this amorphous beige mass, that I have only ever seen picked and served with wasabi, and I am supposed to do what with it? Really the process is quite simple and just takes a peel and a chop, but for those less adventurous, it’s understandable that trying new things, especially food, is nerve racking. So my advice with any new food is to slice a little bit, smell it, taste it, and then cook it. Be careful, as some thing, like ginger, are very potent.

Since this meal was going to be lighter in nature I decided that a Pinot Grigio would be a great candidate to pair with the meal. Where Chardonnay tends to have a heavier body and a rich buttery flavor that pairs well with alfredo and light pastas, Pinot Grigio is silkier and a bit more delicate, lending itself nicely to the range of flavors in the dish at hand. As I scouted about the store, I wanted to find a bottle with notes of pear and citrus. Lo-and-behold, a bottle of 2008 3 Blind Moose had just that, and it was only $9.

To accompany the Chicken I prepared some rice with chopped green onion and seasoning. When everything hit the plate, the contrasting burgundy cranberries popped against the slivers of green onion. Without the two, the dish would have been beige and boring.

Moist and flavorful, the chicken breast, dredged in flour and browned before cooked throughout, had no thought of being dry, while the balsamic vinegar resonated on the palate giving off that mouth watering effect I was hoping for. Moist bits of onion and fennel provided a base for the sweet pears and cranberries, while the rice soaked in the excess juice from the chicken and pears.

With aromatics of sun ripened citrus, pear, and a hint of melon, the wine filled my nostrils with a scene of a perfect fall day, brisk enough for a coat, but just right with a cup of warm apple cider, or hot chocolate. Resting on my tongue, the wine’s light weight gave way to a stronger acidity and a lingering finish.

Together the meal was a perfect example of the power of pairing. Alone the Pinot Grigio was to acidic, making my lips pucker, and palate tense as it moved down my throat, but together, the wine’s acidity was cut down by the sweetness of pear and cranberry, only leaving the added flavors of the wine, which accompanied the dish perfectly. Alone the herby chicken and rice would have gotten monotonous by the end of the meal, but together the wine was able to bring out the subtleties of the dishe’s fennel, onion, and ginger flavors.

Usually it is the food that induces a coma after the meal, but this time it was the wine. Stimulated by good conversation, Michael and I had no problem finishing the bottle with the meal. With the boom of fireworks outside, as the lighting parade on Michigan Avenue came to a close, the only fireworks we were paying attention to were the ones inside our mouths from another perfect pair.