lsanderson | Hmm, who do I know that likes the Loire?

Loire Reds Liked It Hot
By ERIC ASIMOV

ACROSS Europe, the 2003 vintage provoked disbelief. In regions where winemakers ordinarily pray that their grapes will ripen sufficiently before autumn, a torrid heat wave sent them scurrying back from their August vacations to pick the grapes before they turned into raisins. This was California weather, not the sort of marginal growing climate in which vintage anxiety is the trade-off for wines that can scale the heights.

Extreme heat can throw everything out of whack. Ripening is accelerated, and if growers do not pick the grapes at the right time, they will have too much sugar, resulting in wines that are higher in alcohol, with jammy, baked flavors and without the crisp zing that makes them refreshing. Great uncertainty awaited the 2003's.

The early indication is that the reds are faring much better than the whites. The 2003 Beaujolais vintage was excellent, rife with wines of unusual intensity. And, as the Dining section's wine panel found out in a tasting of 25 red wines from the Chinon and Bourgueil regions of the Loire Valley, the 2003 vintage was superb there as well.

Swiss Chard and Smoky Bacon Bring Earthy Wines Into Focus
By FLORENCE FABRICANT

THE red wines of the Touraine region of the Loire Valley displayed earthy, spicy, mineral-rich flavors in our tasting, but frequently within a framework of gentle refinement. They know their place at the table, joining in the culinary conversation without dominating the proceedings.

Stalking Kosher Game (Hold the Giraffe)
By KARA NEWMAN

IN the strictly kosher kitchen at Levana on the Upper West Side, Bill Spitz, the chef, ladles a deep-hued sauce of veal stock, cassis purée and juniper berries over slices of venison, each slice faintly pink at the middle. Stalks of vibrant green broccolini are tented above the venison, and the dish is whisked out to the dining room.

This is kosher? Yes, but check your delicatessen expectations at the door. This is kosher game.

Being Rachael Ray: How Cool Is That?
By KIM SEVERSON
LAKE LUZERNE, N.Y.

AT the stove in her little cabin in the Adirondacks, about a dozen miles from where she graduated from high school in 1986, Rachael Ray spent a night last week making pasta with sweet Italian sausage and canned pumpkin.

With her mind more on conversation than cooking, Ms. Ray cut a nice gash in her thumb. She bandaged it up, laughed it off and kept chopping.

Even with her wound, wine breaks and the start of a dozen stories she would never quite finish, the dish took half an hour.

Her mother, Elsa Scuderi, who is 71 and lives in the cabin, walked in from the garden when dinner was almost ready.

"Did you burn something?" Ms. Scuderi asked.

"No, mamacello, I didn't burn anything," Ms. Ray replied. She flashed the wide grin that critics of her performances on the Food Network compare to that of Batman's nemesis, the Joker.

Though the nation's food elite might cringe, Ms. Ray, 37, is one of the most influential people cooking today. Let the big-name chefs fuss with foams and sous vide. She'll stick with hot dog nachos and "jambalika," a dish that is kind of like jambalaya. With more than 4 million books in print and four shows on the Food Network, Ms. Ray has shown America the way back to the kitchen.

A Street Treat From Nice
By MARK BITTMAN

THERE are few better ways to greet guests than with socca, the chickpea "pizza" from Nice. It's dead easy, impressive, new to even many sophisticated eaters and conveys a sense of your own competence like nothing else.

Recipe: Socca (Farinata)