Wine Wednesday: Daou Chardonnay

So, a funny thing happened recently. I'd written a scene (see below) about what foods  pair well with Chardonnay. And--less than a week later!--I ordered a glass of Daou Chardonnay and paired it with almost the exact meal that my character had insisted wouldn't work. 

And you know what? It was good. 

I'm not sure you could do this with every Chardonnay but Daou has a creaminess and a weight to it that totally worked. 

There's a lot of ripe fruit on the nose: peaches for sure,  plus melon, and maybe a little yellow Delicious apple. Along with a very pronounced vanilla cream verging on caramel scent and a sweet, floral note that I couldn't quite identify. Honeysuckle? Jasmine? Texas Bluebonnet? Something light and delicate and airy--but not powdery. 

The lush fruit flavor and creamy mouthfeel were also present when I tasted the wine. Along with baking spices, caramel, cotton candy, and hints of buttery, toasted oak.

Sadly, I'd moved out of Paso Robles before Daou moved in. I think if they were making wines in Paso when I'd lived there I'd have been drinking it all the time. 

So, the meal I paired this wine with was the Pork Belly Bao Buns at Hotel Zaza in Houston (HOISIN-SESAME GLAZED PORK BELLY | CUCUMBER | CARROT | SCALLIONS | JALAPEÑO & HERB SALAD). I picked the dish and the wine for entirely different reasons, and only realized that--on paper and in theory--it was a horrible idea after the fact. But, honestly? I think I need to try out-of-the-box ideas more often. 

Oh, and here's part of the scene that had me cracking up in retrospect:

Allegra snaps a few more pictures, and then we settle in to eat. I have my own version of her “are you a local?” test—a non-verbal one, which she passes by not even hesitating to pick up her tostada with her hands. 

“Good?” I ask, amused by the happy little noises she’s making. 

“So good,” she responds between bites. “How’s yours?”

“Also good,” I say. The meat is perfectly smoked, with just the right amount of heat from the chipotle glaze. The blue corn tortillas are pillowy perfection, and the paper-thin sliced radishes add a note of crispy, spicy freshness. Before I think better of it, I find myself asking, “Wanna bite?”

She’s chewing, so she doesn’t answer right away, but the calculating look in her eyes makes me wary. Too intimate, I think to myself, as she puts down her tostada and carefully wipes her fingers clean. Too much like a date. 

“On one condition,” she says at last, then quickly amends, “Two conditions. If I can also try your beer, and if you’ll try my pairing as well, and let me know what you think.”

“Fair enough,” I say as I hand her my plate. She pushes hers across the table. We exchange drinks, and dig back in. 

The tostada is also excellent. The crab is sweet and buttery, the avocado and crema are offset by fresh green notes from the jalapeno and cilantro—but that’s all as I’d expected. The wine, on the other hand, is a revelation. It’s got…a weight to it and a creaminess. Almost like a Stout, except that (of course) it tastes nothing at all like a Stout. What it also doesn’t taste like is anything at all like my memory of what a typical white wine tastes like. Cheap. Generic. Yep, the lady might have a point.

“Well?” she asks, after I’ve gone back for a second sip. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re right,” I say as I hand her the glass, and we go back to our original dishes. “I think I could learn to tell wines apart.”