When I sold wine full time, I made it a point to never judge customers based on what they were buying. The only time a customer’s choice frustrated me was when they came in looking for so-called “cooking wine.” The store I worked at carried them, of course, these big, fat bottles on the lowest shelf, with nondescript labels that said “Sherry” or “Port” or whatever else the liquid inside claimed to be. These were a far cry from the historical, artisanal wines they were imitating, more akin to Kraft Singles masquerading as a freshly cracked wheel of Parmigiano-Reggiano. And though we sold them, I always tried to convince the guest to buy a bottle of the actual wine they needed. Sure, the hand-harvested Madeira or the traditional sherry will cost a few dollars more than the jug wine, but I promised them that their dish would turn out 10 times better for the price.
Of the most common cooking wines, Marsala was both the most frequently sought after and, against my best efforts, the most frequently bought in jug form. It comes from the Italian island of Sicily, and it’s most famous for its use in the Italian dish chicken Marsala, where it’s reduced to make a rich and flavorful sauce.
Though Marsala has been overshadowed by Italy’s other wines and even by other fortified wines, I’ve found that it’s almost a perfect nexus of affordability, uniqueness and versatility. My go-to bottle is the VecchioFlorio Marsala Superiore DOC from Cantine Florio ($15). They produce a dry and a sweet version (and each is clearly noted as such on the front label). Both are made with the native Sicilian grapes grillo and cataratto, and they play with a similar array of flavors: a savory nuttiness that swings somewhere between roadhouse peanuts and candied pralines.
The dry version is what you’ll want to cook with, but it’s the sweet versions that are typically best for baking and for drinking by themselves (I used a few bottles of it to get me through last month’s single-digit temperatures). These sweeter versions come in one of two sweetness levels, either the lighter “semi-secco” or the decadent “dolce.” Blame it on my Cleveland County upbringing, but it’s these dolce wines that are where Marsala reaches its peak for me for my palate. Cantine Florio’s Oltre Cento Dolce ($20) is the perfect example: oozing with heady notes of vanilla bean and baked fig. Sure, it would pair with almost any cake or pie, but why bother baking when we could just drink our dessert?
Need a recipe for your next Marsala adventure? Let me know on Instagram at @sethebarlow or via email at [email protected]. … Just promise me you won’t use “cooking wine.”