Wine Of the Week For The Literary Wine Lover


Morgon Gorges Duboeuf Jean-Ernest Descombes - the wine detectiveMORGON – DUBOEUF JEAN ERNEST DESCOMBES – BURGUNDY, FRANCE

Morgon is consistently my favourite Beaujolais Crus. The Georges Duboeuf is a great, very harmonious Morgon with blackcurrant, plum, violet and old rose aromas. The wine offers waves of fresh jammy red berries and ripe cherry flavours. It is a soft, beautifully mature wine. Great with quiches, omelettes, mild barbecue dishes, and Camembert cheese.

Shelf Price: $19.29 + tax

Available at BC gov’t liquor stores and selected private stores.


 —  ‘The Apprentice’ my life in the kitchen by Jacques Pépin —

A delicious, fast read for people interested in culinary art. Anyone who has worked in a restaurant will relate to the following story.

Book’s excerpt:
P’tit, come here.” There was a note of quiet urgency in Chef Jauget’s voice. “P’tit!” I had been at the hotel for a couple of weeks, and chef Jauget was well aware of my first name. He had been a friend of my mother’s during their school years, but family ties or not, Chef showed no favoritism. I was just P’tit, or “Kid”, even though he referred to the older apprentices by their proper first names.
P’tit, run to l’Hotel de France immediately to get our machine à déssosser les poulets,” he said. “I loaned it to the chef there, and he hasn’t returned it. Vite! I need it. And I want you back here. Immediaetly.” Off i went at a full run to l’Hotel de France, which was on the other side of town. The chef there was waiting for me and, when I informed him of my mission, he shook his head and said, “Sorry, the chef at L’Escargot needed it. I sent your machine over to him.”
L’Escargot was at least a mile away. Knowing that I was sure to get a scolding from chef Jauget for taking so much time, i raced to L’Escargot, where the chef greeted my request with shock. “Le Grand Hotel de l’Europe?” he said. “But I thought that the boning machine belonged to l’Hotel Terminus. I returned it to them. Sorry.”
I barely heard his apology. L’Hotel Terminus was a half-hour in the other direction. There, the chef explained that as soon as the boning machine had been delivered to him, he knew it had been sent by mistake. “I have no need for your boning machine, mine’s right over there,” he said, gesturing to some appliances in a corner of the kitchen. “One of my apprentices has just left with the machine to return it to L’Escargot. You probably passed him on the way.”
By then the lunch hour was approaching. I knew chef would be furious. Fortunately, back at L’Escargot, the cook handed me a large canvas bag fastened at the top. “Thought you’d be back. Here it is, “ he said. “Be careful with it, but hurry along. Chef Jauget called; he’s none too pleased with you.” Lugging the bag, I started off toward the hotel. The machine was heavy, and I had to rest frequently. Each time I stopped, I was careful not to slam the bag on the ground. Finally, out of breath and perspiring, I turned the corner of rue Bichat, a few feet from the entrance to le Grand Hotel de l’Europe.
Chef, Robert, the other apprentices, and the waitresses were waiting for me. I lowered the bag to the ground with a proud but thoroughly exhausted smile. They stood there, saying nothing. Suddenly, a horrible doubt crossed my mind. I opened the bag. Inside were two cement blocks. Everyone roared with laughter. Like countless thousands of apprentices before me, I had survived my first rite of passage.

Jacques Pépin was 14 years old at the time. Beaujolais was his favourite wine style.