pumpkin soup fit for the season. The main course was to be a boneless leg of lamb prepared with goat cheese, spinach and pine nuts. I also had fresh beets to make a delicious beet greens dish, but alas, I forgot about the beets themselves and they stayed in the refrigerator. And there were also some simple skillet potatoes cooked with rosemary.
The wine selected was the 2004 Damilano Barolo Lecinquevigne, something that Wine Spectator described as a full-bodied wine with round, chewy tannins, “but turns slightly hollow on the finish.” I’ve only drank a Barolo once before, several years ago at an Italian restaurant in Chicago’s Loop with my sister, Roberta, and her husband Jack. Barolo has been called the “king of wines,” however by 2007 the king’s thrown was being usurped.
Lettie Teague writes in Food and Wine that, “the Barolos of only two decades ago bear little resemblance to the wines of today.” A new breed of winemakers had decided that Barolo needed a new look and feel with some Cabernet added to the traditional Nebbiolo grape, then aged in French oak rather than the Solvenian casks used by traditionalists. Interestingly, it was the Frenchman Louis Oudart who, back in the mid-19th century, left his mark on this Piedmont wine after being solicited by the Marchesa of Barolo. The modernists also wanted a wine that could be drank young, whereas the traditionalists required barrel aging for a minimum of two years, followed by further aging in the bottle.
Interestingly, Barolo has earned the moniker of being the Burgundy of Italy. As Teague writes: “First, Nebbiolo is a lot like Pinot Noir, the great red grape of Burgundy, in that it is also thin-skinned, difficult to grow and possessed of beguiling aromas. Second, Barolo, like Burgundy, requires its followers to memorize many names—not only dozens of producers (traditional and otherwise) but also names of communes and vineyards. And finally, like Burgundy, Barolo can be quite inconsistent. The highs are high and the lows, very low. And it doesn’t come cheap.”
The Damilano follows the traditionalists’ style using Nebbiolo only, selected from five different estates. Like a Pinot Noir, the wine’s color in the glass is a deep cranberry that is easily seen through. It was very subtle and friendly, working well with the strong flavors in the lamb. As the meal went on, there was a period when the tannins burst forward, giving this wine some real muscle, but by the time the meal was ending, those tannins had softened again and the wine finished delicate and smooth. Wine Spectator, I thought, gave it an undeserved 88 points; I thought it was a 90-pointer. And it was definitely a good find at $34, as its normal retail price is pegged at $50.
I rate this with a 9 on my 10-point scale on the left.
Here’s the recipe for the stuffed leg of lamb.
Take a 5-pound boneless leg of lamb, untie it and spread it out on a cutting board. Cut slits into the meat at about 2-inch intervals to help the meat lay flat. Cut away any excess fat. Cover the meat with plastic and pound the hell out of it until it’s about three-quarters of an inch thick. Salt and pepper it, then place a layer of freshly washed spinach greens on the meat. On top of that, crumble goat cheese, about 6 ounces-worth. Sprinkle pine nuts on top of that. Then roll the meat back up tightly and tie it with kitchen twine.
In a dish, mix a cup of flour with 1 tablespoon each of salt and pepper, and 1 teaspoon each of thyme and fennel seeds. Roll the lamb in this mixture until it is evenly coated. Then in a cast iron skillet, heat sesame oil until hot. Sear the lamb on all sides, including the ends, in the hot oil. When finished, leave the lamb in the skillet and place it into a 400-degree preheated oven. Cook about 40 minutes until the internal temperature is 140 degrees for medium rare. Let it rest outside of the over before slicing and serving.