A couple of years ago over a long and languorous lunch at Le Café Anglais, with chef-patron (and FT food guru) Rowley Leigh, I was lamenting the fact that while the cuisine of Provence is justifiably celebrated its best wines are regrettably overlooked. Rowley is a man of action who requires little encouragement and before I knew it ‘Le Grand Aïoli’ had been born. Rowley had devised a Provençal feast with aim of pairing some of the region’s top wines with classic Mediterranean dishes. The inaugural Grand Aïoli, in June 2010, was a hedonistic affair with a mouth-watering menu encompassing olives, sardines, seabass and beef brisket accompanied by lashings of Cassis and a budget-busting Domaine de Trévallon. All those who attended seemed to enjoy themselves enormously – there certainly weren’t any complaints – so, I guess, it was inevitable that sooner or later we would do it all over again.

The second (and, having since reviewed the margins, almost certainly final) Grand Aïoli took place last Thursday at Le Café Anglais and, I have to say, Rowley surpassed his previous efforts. Word was definitely out in London’s foodie fraternity that good things were afoot as seasoned truffle-hounds like Fergus Henderson, Bill Knot, Matthew Fort, Jeremy Lee and Tom Parker-Bowles could be seen priming their palates with a blameless, coral-pink Coteaux d’Aix: Domaine Oullières 2010 at the bar before we were under starters’ orders.

Glistening bowls of pungent, fresh Aïoli appeared as diners were seated and plates of salt cod, prawns, radishes, sweetbreads and artichokes soon followed. With this magnificent medley we served an organic Bandol Blanc: Mas de la Rouvière 2010, which is made from pure Clairette and has inimitable wild herb scents and flavours which married marvellously with the garlic-infused mayonnaise.

Rowley Leigh serves Bourride

Next up came a Bourride of hake, Gurnard, monkish and John Dory that Rowley served in bowls en place and soon solicited sighs of gastronomic contentment. This piscine tour de force was accompanied by a rare Bellet Blanc 2010 from Domaine de la Source. Made from 100% Rolle this sapid, savoury, straw-coloured, niçeois white did nothing to assist an already straining budget but it did take the food and wine matching to new heights and amply illustrated that you get what you pay for.

A brace of bountiful reds was then brought into play to do justice to a stupendous ‘Grillade des Mariniers du Rhône’. The crowd-pleasing Côtes du Luberon 2009 from the ever-reliable Château la Canorgue stood up well to the culinary alchemy of very slowly-cooked skirt beef with onions and seasoning but the vinous high point was probably the celebrated (and horriblement cher) Château Simone from Palette. This majestic, antediluvian, anachronism is made from a blend of 17 different grape varieties including such rarities as Branforcas, Manosquin and Castels. It has the cassis, cedar and sandalwood characteristics of a venerable old Claret but a wild, untamed touch of the garrigues in the background too – no wonder Winston Churchill was a fan.

We rounded proceedings off with a divine apricot and almond tart alongside the peerless, orange blossom-scented Muscat de Beaumes de Venise 2007 from Domaine de Durban. Although the west London skies were overcast you could feel the warming sun of the Côte d’Azur in the dining room of Le Café Anglais. Who knows? If we can find a generous benefactor we may even do it again next year….

Pestle and Mortar

I’m not sure if it was my idea or Rowley’s. A bit of both probably. It was certainly hatched over a fine lunch with some good bottles open for inspiration. The concept was pretty simple really – to host a Provençal feast partnering classic dishes with local wines. Obviously, this was to be a summer celebration and we had to select a date before schools broke up and mass migration from the capital began. So last Friday lunchtime some 40 diners sat down for the inaugural ‘Grand Aïoli’at Le Café Anglais. In fact we started off standing up, enjoying a glass of a white Coteaux d’Aix 2009 from Domaine des Oullières, that was served as an aperitif with some excellent sardine pâté, saucisson sec and black Niçoise olives. This dry, herb-tinged wine is a new discovery of ours that is grown at altitude on the southern slopes of the Chaînes des Côtes and it is fresher and fruitier than many of its peers. It hails from an unusual blend of Grenache Blanc and Rolle and is très Provençal. The same estate bottles a decent rosé too but it is the scrub-scented white that really transports one to La France Profonde.

As we were seated a second wine was being poured – the Cassis: Clos Sainte Magdeleine 2008. This inimitable white wine comes from the Mediterranean coast between Bandol and Marseilles and is produced, by the Sack family, from a blend of Marsanne, Clairette and Ugni Blanc. It made for a marvellous foil to pungent bowls of freshly-made aïoli that accompanied hard boiled eggs and crudités of thinly sliced fennel, peppers and carrots along with peppery radishes and sticks of celery. My lunch guest, outspoken, wine-writer extraordinaire, Malcolm Gluck kindly provided me with his tasting note: ‘This is one of France’s great undiscovered ‘secret’ whites, preferable to many a soi-disant ‘great’ white burgundy in feel and fruit. It is beautifully textured, like ruffled silk, and it has a genteel finish of gooseberry and citrus.’

The enviably well-appointed Clos Sainte Magdeleine vineyard at Cassis.

Things took on a distinctly piscine theme with the next two dishes to be served. Large platters of lightly-salted (wonderfully flaky) cod with new potatoes, and sea bass cooked with artichokes and olives were passed around all accompanied by lashing more aioli and a delicate,coral-pink Côtes du Luberon rosé from Château la Canorgue. Fortunately we were blessed with a lovely warm day and the high-ceilinged, light and airy dining room and friendly chatter really helped evoke a Provençal ambience to this most relaxed of lunches.  

Some more robust cuisine was called for to partner a chest-thumping red Bandol: Mas de la Rouvière 2003 that, with bottle-age, was beginning to show the forest floor scents and game and mushroom tastes that define a good Mourvèdre. Le Café Anglais rose to the occasion with beef brisket served with chickpeas, and a superb roast ham with French beans. Once again Malcolm waxed lyrical: ‘Astonishing coal-edged tannins, quite remarkably gorgeous and roasted, clinging to fruit which is seems as if it has been pressed in a coffee grinder. There is a herby element, perhaps cinnamon, certainly a touch of white pepper, but more sensually there is chocolate. Altogether a wine of momentous, almost heady, richness.’

Fortunately, I still had the stamina to toy with some lovely mature Brie de Maux

(chef’s licence: ‘there aren’t many cows in Provence’) and a budget-busting glass of Domaine de Trévallon 2006 that was just beginning to show its full potential and earthy garrigue flavours.

While we could have all departed fully sated at this juncture a divine peach and almond tart proved irresistible. Not too sweet with a nice grainy texture, served with small glasses of cold, golden Muscat de Beaumes de Venise 2007 from the peerless Domaine de Durban. A perfect finale to a perfect repast. Those wishing to attend next year’s event would be prudent to contact us and get their names added to the waiting list!

At the beginning of  March I had the pleasure of hosting an evening dedicated to the wines of Domaine Jean-Louis Chave, an estate widely acknowledged as being at forefront of the Rhône valley’s wine making elite. I was at Le Café Anglais on the invitation of the chef-patron, Rowley Leigh, who is passionate about wine (and food) and had devised a sumptuous menu to accompany the wines. The evening presented a (very) rare opportunity to sample examples of the entire cannon of the Domaine’s wines including the horribly expensive ‘Cuvée Cathelin’ and fiendishly scarce ‘Vin de Paille’. Nineteen of us gathered in the private dining room (this representing just about the maximum who can comfortably taste from a single bottle) including restaurateurs, wine journalists, business folk and common or garden wine nuts.

This was to be a tasting of two halves. The first being an ‘academic’ overview of this legendary estate (de Père en Fils Depuis 1481, as proudly displayed on the neck label) featuring the white Hermitage 2005, the red Hermitage 2001, the Ermitage ‘Cuvée Cathelin’ 1998 and the sweet Vin de Paille 1990. The second phase was a more ‘hedonistic’ tasting (and let’s face it, drinking) of the Chaves wines with specially selected dishes.

Phase one passed off well. The white 2005 showed youthful promise with hints of honeysuckle on the nose and a concentrated palate of white stone fruit with hints of roasted nuts. The red 2001 is still an infant but I could happily drink it now. It has a wonderful core of dark, black, berry-fruit and attractive peppery notes. The Cuvée Cathelin is so far beyond the realms of my regular drinking that I find it hard to be objective about it. There is lots of power and concentration here and it tastes like a Vin Luxe. The Chaves insist that this isn’t a ‘special’ cuvée. That said, they’ve only ever made it in 6 vintages (1990, 1991, 1995, 1998, 2000 & 2003) and collectors certainly regard it as a trophy wine. It was first created to provide a vehicle for a distinctive red label that the late artist and Chave family friend, Bernard Cathelin, designed. I think it is an impressive wine and a fabulous expression of the Syrah grape but I just feel like it hasn’t been made for the likes of me. Perhaps it is the wine equivalent of a studio album made by a great live band. I can appreciate its quality, I just can’t relate to it in the same way that I can with the Chaves’ ‘regular’ Hermitage. Maybe in time I’ll acquire more of a taste for it – although who will fund that project remains a mystery.

In common with many great wines the Vin de Paille is understated. On first taste you wonder what all the fuss is about but every time you revisit it, it reveals another facet. It tasted more impressive two hours after opening than when we first broached it. I lack the descriptive powers to do this justice but Keats’s ‘lucent syrups tinct with cinnamon’ spring to mind.

With that hard work out of the way we then tucked into a memorably delicious meal. Scallops with sea kale were accompanied by a mineral-edged white Hermitage 1995 which proved a delightfully happy union. A gently-spiced hare pâté ‘en croute’ was served warm with the only non-Hermitage of the feast, the Chaves’ red Saint Joseph 2006. The cool, youthful, peppery wine was the perfect foil for the gamey meat – a sublime food and wine combination. I am certain that the ‘Lamb en Persillade’ that followed with a red Hermitage 1999 (that was just beginning to reveal its potential) was a grander dish but I had been so beguiled by the previous course I had yet to regain my critical faculties.

To round things off we tasted two mature vintages of red Hermitage with some perfectly à point Saint Marcellin. The 1985 was good but the 1988 was great. This was my wine of the night with evolved fruit and tannins that had softened nicely with age and I fancy some ‘beaded bubbles winking at the brim’  but by then I had drunk plenty and had fully succumbed to the charms of the hill of Hermitage!