Press

On the Rocks: Sanguine for sangria, chefs pack their own fruit punch

Portland Tribune
August 25, 2006
By Anne Marie Distefano

"Hey, check this out," my friend Brent says. He wants me to see something he's got in his dorm room, but he won't elaborate. I have to see it for myself.

It turns out to be a trough lined with garbage bags and filled with red wine and oranges. The trough is borrowed from a biology lab. The oranges are from the dining hall. I don't know where he got the wine, since we are both sophomores in college and not yet 21 years old.

This is my first exposure to sangria. Brent explains that the fruit slowly flavors the wine over time. There's going to be a party in his dorm in two days, and by then, the sangria will be ready. He asks me if I want to try it.

"I thought you said it wouldn't be ready for two days." "That's OK, we can have a small taste," he says.

He's much too proud of this sangria not to show it to everyone he knows, and much too good a host not to offer each of us a small taste. Before the party starts, it's all gone.

Brent's sangria probably is very close to the beverage in its earliest form. It comes from Spain, where oranges grow, and probably originated with a dodgy batch of wine that needed a little livening up.

You can put any kind of fruit - apples, peaches, pears or pomegranates - into wine and call it sangria. Traditionally, brandy is added to give the drink some backbone, but, more essential than any single ingredient, it's part of the sangria tradition to have your own house recipe.

Now that I'm well past 21, I've found that many bars and restaurants in Portland have proprietary blends. As the recent wave of long sunny afternoons puts me in the mood, I've been sampling sangria all over town - in expected and unexpected places.

It comes in white, too

At Lauro Kitchen, chef de cuisine Jennifer Buehler personally oversees the making of a refreshing white wine sangria. "It's just me playing around," she says of the current recipe, a light concoction freshened with a trio of orange flavors from fresh sliced oranges, orange juice and Grand Marnier. Lemons, ginger, vanilla and sugar also linger in the background.

Buehler pairs the drink, served in a tall wine glass, with pinchitos muronos, an appetizer of bite-size pieces of tender pork, grilled on skewers. The spices on the meat - cumin, coriander and especially smoked paprika - contrast with the fruit and spices of the sangria and sun pours in the window.

Down the street at Nuestra Cocina, the sangria is red and potent enough to stand up to the rich, spicy flavors of Mexican cuisine. Shannon Gonzales, who owns Nuestra Cocina with her husband, executive chef Benjamin Gonzales, says she likes her sangria robust and a bit sweet. In the restaurant, it's served over ice, but she prefers it cold and straight up in a small glass.

Shannon Gonzales' recipe calls for cabernet sauvignon, peeled oranges and unpeeled lemons. She spices it with cinnamon, cloves and vanilla, which give it an autumnal flavor, and spikes it with brandy. A deep maroon in color, it complements a hearty appetizer of sopas - crisp little cups made of cornmeal batter and filled with spicy chorizo and black beans.

Pairs well with paella, limbo

Across town at the taqueria ¿Por Qué No?, the house-made sangria sits in a big glass jar on the crowded countertop. Made with red wine, fruit and a "secret ingredient," it's light and reminiscent of fruit punch. This more thirst-quenching version of sangria suits the place, which is bright, crowded and a little hectic.

The popular new North Portland bar Vendetta serves sangria sometimes, although not on the day of my visit. However, the bartender is kind enough to point me down the street to the Fifth Quadrant, another new bar, owned by Old Lompoc Brewing.

The place feels new, and it's full of families. The sangria is sweet-tart, with berry flavors, and it's a pretty raspberry color. I sit by the window and watch a limbo contest that's going on in the street - I don't think that happens every day, though.

Now that I have a basis for comparison, it's time to head to an authentic Spanish restaurant to see how they do it. Patanegra serves both white and red sangrias, along with tapas, paellas and Spanish wines. "Be careful," the bartender says when I order the white. He ladles a mixture of white rum, vodka and peaches into a glass, and tops it off with sparkling wine.

The recipe comes from Ricardo Segura, co-owner of the restaurant. It looks gorgeous and tastes even better. It is strong, though - strong enough to go hand in hand with another Spanish tradition, the afternoon siesta.

annemariedistefano@portlandtribune.com