COMFORT FOODIE
Let The Bubbly Flow
In celebration of the simple wonder that is Champagne
Comfort Foodie is a series featuring a deep dive into comfort foods and what they mean to me and the larger culture.
Bells tinkled lightly as the door opened, and an older couple walked into the cafe.
“Bonjour,” they said as one.
“Bonjour,” came the chorus from staff and patrons alike.
It was just past nine in the morning in Paris, and the cafe was pleasantly crowded — full of life, with people dropping by for their morning coffee and maybe a bit of pastry. An older gentleman in the corner doing a word puzzle with a waitress who would stop by periodically to peer over his shoulder and offer advice.
A pair of Asian tourists sat at the window, speaking quietly and laughing softly. Mostly, though, they were neighborhood people stopping in to say hello, stand at the bar with an espresso, and exchange a bit of gossip. There I sat, in the middle of it all, alone with my journal, a light-hearted book, and a glass of Champagne.
In her book “Endangered Pleasures,” author Barbara Holland wrote, “To my way of thinking, the ideal breakfast is probably a glass of Champagne and a perfectly ripe pear, perhaps with a spoonful of caviar eaten straight from the jar. This should be served with sunlight spreading across the table, or, better, outdoors on a balcony or flagstone patio, in the company of a single well-behaved honeybee and someone with whom you’re madly in love.”
“Come quickly, I am drinking the stars!” ― Dom Pérignon
Champagne has an air of untroubled decadence and carefree indulgence. It’s one of those few alcoholic drinks that, together with the Bloody Mary, are deemed acceptable in the morning. There is some science to suggest that the chemical compositions of many brunch foods pair nicely with Champagne, but I think it’s because of the bubbles.
A girl I once knew loved to drink Champagne at the Four Seasons on Sunday mornings. Dressed in jeans, cowboy boots, and a comfortable sweater, she insisted on being accompanied by the Sunday New York Times, a fine cigar, and a well-groomed man. Now that’s my kind of girl.
No one knows exactly who first invented Champagne, but it began to appear sometime in the late 17th century. Dom Pérignon, the French monk who is often incorrectly accredited with its invention, did however invent many of the techniques still used today, including a wire hood and stronger bottles. In fact, for Pérignon and many of his contemporaries, the carbon dioxide that caused the wine to sparkle was not an intended effect. It was seen as a sign of poor wine-making.
Because of the long, cool growing season, the grapes were harvested late, resulting in not all the yeast on the grape skins having time to convert the sugars in the wine before the cold temperatures stopped the fermenting process. In the Spring, when the temperatures rose, a second fermentation, caused by the remaining yeast, occurred. The pressure built up in the bottles and caused many of them to explode, taking a walk through the wine cellar in the Spring hazardous.
Pérignon imported heavier bottles from England that could withstand the pressure and invented a method for binding the corks to prevent bursting. Today, the second fermentation is controlled by adding yeast and sugar into the bottle combined with a method for removing the sediment without having to decant the bottle, but the basic methods for making Champagne are much the same.
To be called Champagne, the sparkling wine must be from the Champagne region of France, otherwise it’s simply sparkling wine. Champagne is best drunk with a comparable food to bring out the flavor, but it need not be complicated — a chunk of cheese, a slice of pear, or even a single, perfectly ripe strawberry. Champagne needs a companion, be it food or friend, as it was never meant to be drunk alone.
It’s neither necessarily meant to be chugged from a brown paper bag, or from a plastic glass, although there are times when the brown bag can be wonderful. Such as a mid-winter picnic consisting of nothing more than ice-cold Champagne in Central Park, or on the slopes of Aspen, or even watching a fabulous sunset on the beach — anywhere. Still, if you can manage a few tulip-shaped flutes, all the better.
Champagne is traditionally considered a special treat, a celebratory drink for special occasions. Consequently, many people think of pairing it with fancy food. But I would counter that with an entirely different approach. Like the pairing of many foods, wines and spirits, contrast can be the most elegant approach. So too with Champagne.
Despite popular opinion, I consider Champagne a comfort food, like pizza, French fries, chocolate chip cookies, and mashed potatoes. We act like it’s only for special occasions when nothing could be further from the truth.
The ideal breakfast is probably a glass of Champagne and a perfectly ripe pear, perhaps with a spoonful of caviar eaten straight from the jar.
My fondest memories of Champagne are not because of the quality of the bottle, but because of the place and time, I found myself in. Old Town Warsaw, eating pierogis and drinking Champagne outside in a public square older than anything in America. With a perfect margarita pizza in the Soho neighborhood of Manhattan on a cold rainy day. Accompanying bread, cheese, and grapes in the middle of the Philadelphia zoo on a fine spring day. With piping hot pommes frites, lightly salted and served in a newspaper cone, on the banks of the Seine.
I believe what makes the moment special is the Champagne itself. It elevates even the mundane to something worth celebrating. There is no point in adding Champagne to something already special. Make it the star and pair it with something ordinary like pizza or nachos.
As the author Hester Browne once said, “Always keep a bottle of Champagne in the fridge for special occasions. Sometimes, the special occasion is that you’ve got a bottle of Champagne in the fridge.”
