What to Drink with Fried Cream Cheese
I grew up in a house very particular about its Chinese takeout. It couldn’t be some cheap, white cardboard chow mein masquerading as the good stuff. It had to have flavor, depth, texture, and appeal. Nor could it merely be your standard American-influenced fried whatever. My family loved Pork & Pickle Soup, Black Bean Sauce, and Duck. I can’t forget the first time in college, eating Beef & Broccoli from a takeout container. Nonsense on stilts.
As an adult, my relationship to Chinese cuisines (for there are many, many regional differences and subtleties rather than some Brobdinagnian bloc of “Chinese” cuisine. If you can appreciate that Kansas City barbecue sauce is sweet, tomato-based, and hickory-inflected while Carolina sauce is cider vinegar and hot pepper-based - and even that depends on where in Carolina you are - then you can appreciate the regionality of Chinese cuisines) remains nuanced. I love a good Chengdu hot pot, some cold Hunan sesame noodles, and, yes, pickled greens.
Perhaps this is quotidian for living in a city like Boston. But, I think, it is still outside the norm for most American experiences. It’s still General Tso and Cashew Chicken, Pork Fried Rice and Crab Rangoons (not that there’s crab in many examples of them). And there’s nothing inherently wrong with any of it. It’s part of the cultural fabric of American eating. You don't expect the plate that hits the table at an Olive Garden to be the same as what comes from a trattoria kitchen in Modena (or, at least, I’m lighting a candle in front of Saint Anthony hoping that’s true). Tastes adapt to meet expectations, and vice versa.
How do you elevate something that is, by definition, an unelevated experience? There’s a wine for that. In fact, there’s four. Each of them bring a vibrant lift, an almost pulsing freshness, a vibe that’s authentically enjoyable and makes your takeout night a moment to remember. After all, if you’re going to eat fried cream cheese, you might as well do it better than everyone else does.
Hofgut Falkenstein, Niedermenniger Herrenberg Weißburgunder Trocken
The ultimate IYKYK in our shop. Pinot Blanc from the Mosel region of Germany, where the gradient of the hillside is so steep, one misstep can send you falling a thousand feet down. This is a racingly acidic, almost criminally fresh white wine that’s absolutely bone dry. If you can’t bring yourself to drink it on a Wednesday night, it will age in your cellar for a decade or more.
Southeast of Vienna, Austria, the climate is warm and continental. A lot of sun hits here, and grapes get juicy and ripe. Luckily, the wind keeps everything in check. These are some of the highest-altitude vineyards in all Austria. Zahel’s Grüner vines are 45 years old, which lends them a concentrated, abundant flavor. Certified biodynamic, this is a wine that looks to the future while remembering the past.
Weingut Brand, The Electric Acid Test Chardonnay
Like skinny ties and the Marvel Cinematic Universe, oaky Chardonnay is over. People want this robust grape, with all its citrus and grassy notes, to have personality and structure, rather than a lazy banana peel superficiality. Luckily there is Weingut’s Electric Acid Test Chardonnay from the Pfalz region of Germany. Just over the border from France, the Pfalz is a stony, sunny region along the Rhine river. This Chardonnay is sharp, salty, and so deep you’ll be able to appreciate its subtle nuance right down to your fortune cookie.
The grapes here are grown so close to the ocean in Oregon that you can hold the bottle to your ear and hear the gulls cawing. This is a blend of Pinot Gris, Gewürztraminer, Riesling, and Muscat, each with a touch of skin contact to build a refreshingly tannic white wine. This is an exotic trip of a wine, with notes of hibiscus ginger tea, turmeric, and even a mandarin orange creamsicle thrown in to boot. You’ll never look at Orange Chicken the same way again if you have it with Big Salt Orange Rosé.
