A new venison, asparagus Milanese, the return of coffee bar syrups, and steely Chablis - includes recipes and related article

Sunset, March, 1995 by Jerry Anne Di Vecchio

Sue Jenkins lives in Blenheim, New Zealand, where she keeps bees, raises boys, and is the energy behind food activities at the Marlborough Wine & Food Festival. So when visitors like me show up, she hauls us around behind the scenes. And that's how I heard about cervena, a product of red deer, before it was official.

On our outings, we often passed these deer in high-fenced paddocks. They were brought to New Zealand by settlers, and like many introduced wild animals that have no predators, the population exploded. Sue's father was among the first ranchers to deal aggressively with their environmental destructiveness. He rounded them up and farm-fed them to create a new venison source. As production grew, strict quality controls were established for breeding, feeding, dressing, and packing. The result is called cervena. Leading supermarkets in the West now carry cervena, sometimes fresh, usually frozen--though you can always order it fresh. Only the tender, luxury cuts--from the loin section and the leg--are available, and they cost from 25 to 50 percent more than comparable beef cuts.

Cervena is darker red and more richly flavored than beef. It behaves a lot like beef when cooked, but because it is so much leaner, tender cuts are moistest if cooked very rare to rare (125 [degrees] to 135 [degrees]). Cervena is best seasoned by simple, classic red-meat sauces like the one here with brandy and green peppercorns.

If you can't locate cervena, call Cervena Co. at (800) 877-1187 for a nearby source.

A TASTE OF THE WEST

Cervena with Brandy Sauce

2 cervena tenderloins
  (about 1 lb. total)
  All-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons each butter or
  margarine and olive oil
2 tablespoons brandy
1/4 cup minced shallots
2 teaspoon fresh or dried
  thyme leaves
1/4 cup regular-strength
  chicken broth
1/4 cup whipping cream
2 teaspoons drained
  canned green
  peppercorns
  About 2 teaspoons
  lemon juice (optional)
  Fresh thyme sprigs
  Salt and pepper

RELATED ARTICLE: BOB THOMPSON ON WINE

What is Chablis?

Olympia oysters and French Chablis do what they do, I think, because each is intensely evocative of one tiny place. Olympias come only from a couple of small bays in Puget Sound. Chablis comes only from the chalky hills around a small town in France.

People who try to be poetic about wine drive themselves daft in their search for the right words to describe Chardonnay as it grows in Chablis. Start with apples. More precisely, start with the freshly peeled skin of one of the powerfully redolent varieties. Add the faintest hint of burnt match.

This is not exact, but how many people are familiar with the smell of gunflint, or whetstones, these days? After these, you have to chip in with your own details. However, once you have the basic outline, the grape will never confuse you again.

There is a hierarchy of Chablis wines. Most are called simply Chablis. From a dozen or so vineyards (some of them identified within quotation marks in the following list) comes Chablis Premier Cru, which costs more. Finally, just seven vineyards (some again named within quotes in the list) have the right to call themselves Grand Cru, and they charge carriage-trade prices.

Chablis of all three types smell and taste much like one another. Compared with regular Chablis, the costlier Premiers Crus feel firmer, the Grands Crus outright steely. Steeliness is what makes Chablis more brilliant with oysters than Chardonnays from elsewhere. When the oysters happen to be Olympias, the more steel the better.

Chablis to try ($9 to $12): Laroche St.-Martin, J. Moreau, Long-Depaquit, La Chablisienne.

Chablis Premiers Crus ($15 to $20): Long-Depaquit Premier Cru, Long-Depaquit "Vaillons," Louis Michel "Montee de Tonnerre," Domaine Laroche "Vaudevey," Domaine Laroche "Fourchaume."

Chablis Grands Crus ($24 to $30): Long-Depaquit "Moutonne," Domaine Laroche "Blanchots," J. Moreau "Vaudesir."