America loves the underdog story. We want to hear how out of the most improbable of circumstances rose the greatest of victors. This is an American story: to find glory in the dimmest chances. We see it play out in presidential politics, in the very founding of our country, in literature, music, even branding. In 2010, Harvard Business Review published the article “Capitalizing on the Underdog Effect,” highlighting a study where consumers were given the choice between two different chocolate brands. The article explains, “One brand had an underdog story: We described it as small and new, competing against powerhouses like Lindt and Godiva. The other brand had a top-dog biography, characterized by experienced founders and a big marketing budget. The result: 71% of subjects chose the underdog chocolate.” The more consumers related to the underdog story themselves – historically marginalized groups such as “women, blue collar workers, ethnic minorities” – the stronger their alignment with the underdog brand.

What is it that makes us prefer a certain chocolate because of the businessperson’s journey to make the chocolate? Is it reclamation of our own personal hardships as springboards to success? Is our own “underdoggedness” actually fertile ground for our greatest growth? Or is it just a band-aid we give ourselves to accept the unmerciful casting of “a person in adversity or in a position of inferiority” as the dictionary describes?

In the impending presidential election, each candidate is vying to be the underdog, and each can claim it in different ways. In October of 2011, George Stephanopoulos asked President Barack Obama if he considered himself an underdog in the campaign to reelection, and the president said without hesitating, “Yes. Absolutely.” One could argue that Obama’s history unequivocally makes him an underdog.  A son of a single mother, odds against him, becomes the leader of the free world. Unlike his opponent, Mitt Romney, who, despite his privileged background, has also touted the coveted title of underdog, as every challenger to an incumbent has the ability to do. There is something so American about the branding of candidates as underdogs. It’s the story we want to hear, especially coming out of a recession and feeling like underdogs ourselves. We want someone to relate to, we want to see the restored vision for our own lives played out so that we can believe in it. As the late Democratic Governor Happy Chandler once said, “We Americans are a peculiar people. We are for the underdog, no matter how much of a dog he is.”

There are really two parts to the underdog story – first, the odds stacked against her, and then, her glorious victory. We love the journey from part one to two. We can look to the Revolutionary War as an historical context for the underdog story. Americans were set to lose – no navy, no military, no economy, no odds. However, as stacked as the British may have been in military, skill, training, and resources, there is a great distinction between those who want to fight and those who need to fight. This is the grit of the underdog – the American inspiration was the idea of a free country. The hope of the future was more compelling than the odds of the present. Americans did not win the war on sheer motivation alone (the French had a little something to do with it), but it was the one tool Great Britain did not have in its chest.

As a people, when the odds are not in our favor is when we perform the best, become the most innovative, creative, determined. Perhaps even the Great Recession has only been the groundwork for what will prove to be the most productive time in American history. The bipartisan and often vitriolic rhetoric we have become accustomed to in the past decade could turn out to be the rock bottom we need to strengthen our democracy – not because we embrace it, but because we once again learn that the humility that results from a broken practice gives us crystallized insight. That’s the gift of the underdog. We can only shift when we have finished falling and reached that hard-learned lesson at the bottom.

Photo Courtesy of Wiki Commons

Today would have been, famed American chef and author, Julia Child’s 100th birthday. Child was most famous, perhaps, for introducing French cuisine to the American culinary scene, but she was also an endearing television personality and former spy. In honor of her birthday, we have featured a couple of Child’s more “garnished” recipes, remembering a life full of its own fascinating twists and turns.

1. Cassoulet

One recipe for Julia Child’s cassoulet, a native dish from the Toulouse region of France, says: [It’s] not really something that you should try to make entirely from scratch at home unless you have a day to spare to make the confit…and another day to make the cassoulet.” This is one of those recipes much tougher to pull together in America than France, where certain ingredients are pre-prepared. The cassoulet calls for an—approximately—astonishing 22 ingredients. Many think of cooking as more of an art than a science (we strongly agree), but this recipe calls for a whole lot of “exactly”s, leaving little room for error. Apparently it’s worth it though, and is one tried-and-true, delicious and hearty dish.

2. Soupe a L’Oignon Gratinee des Trois Gourmandes

Onion soup? Complicated? We know what you’re thinking. This recipe, which sounds way more complicated by its french title, incorporates about 16 different ingredients and takes a total of three hours and 15 minutes to prepare, from start to completion. The result, however, looks and sounds absolutely delectable. It’s probably even more fun if you sip the cognac as you go, just don’t go overboard and forget to replenish the recipe’s six tablespoons. (Child is all in favor of the heavily-boozed recipes.)

3. Supremes de Volaille Archiduc

What in the world is that, you ask? We thought you might. We picked this one partially for the incredible-sounding name, which translates in English to “chicken breasts with paprika, onions and cream.” Okay, a little more boring, but here’s how Child describes the wonder herself: “The flesh of a perfectly cooked supreme is white with the faintest pinky blush, its juices run clear yellow and it is definitely juicy.” Okay, that doesn’t sound as tempting as we’d hoped, but apparently this chicken breast is out-of-this-world tender, and the sauce, improbably mouth-watering. And the pictures, oh god those pictures.

Don’t even get us started on Child’s seductive desserts, you’ll have to check back next year for those. And with that, a tip of the hat to a master, and bon appetit!

—Alissa Fleck

Good question. Even those in the wine industry don’t really understand exactly why everyone is so incredibly excited by this often mediocre (and occasionally downright terrible) juice. To be fair, Beaujolais wines tend to be good predictors of that year’s vintage, especially for wines from the Burgundy area. But that doesn’t exactly excuse the over-hyping of this middle-of-the-road product.

For the uninitiated, Beaujolais Nouveau is the first wine released from France for the current vintage, or year. That means that the juice used to make this wine was in grape form only a handful of weeks prior. It is quickly fermented, bottled and air-shipped to the United States in order to make the third Thursday deadline.

While freshness is a good thing for produce, it can be a bad thing for vino. The wine has to ferment, of course, but fermentation is time-consuming. Working against the clock, winemakers oftentimes add what have come to be known as “designer yeasts” to speed up the process. Most of the time when wine is made, the natural ambient yeasts (those occurring in the air and on the skins of the grapes) do the work of fermentation. The designer yeasts work fast, but often impart odd flavors to the finished product. A specific flavor to look for to tell if outside yeast was added to Beaujolais Nouveau is notes of banana.

The Beaujolais region itself is actually a subregion of the Burgundy area. While almost all red wine that comes from every other region of Burgundy is made up of Pinot Noir, the red wines from Beaujolais are made of the lighter, less complex Gamay grape. The simplicity of this grape’s flavor profile makes it a perfect candidate for the quick fermentation and early consumption of the wine it produces.

Only a small percentage of Beaujolais wines were originally intended to be bottled Nouveau. The idea was capitalized upon by winemaker Georges deBouef. His company single-handedly made Beaujolais Nouveau a household name through the 1970s and 1980s. By 1992, half of all wines produced in Beaujolais were classified as “Nouveau.”

All of this notwithstanding, there are actually some very good, thoroughly delicious Beaujolais Nouveau wines out there. The Antonin Rodet Beaujolais Nouveau 2009 ($11 @ Best Cellars, 1291 Lexington Ave. betw. 86th and 87th streets, 212-426-4200) comes from a storied producer who has been making wine since 1875. The grapes are allowed to ferment whole in tanks filled with carbon dioxide. This process is called carbonic maceration, and it achieves a softer red wine with less tannin and an emphasis on light, bright fruit. On the less serious side of Nouveau, this is a great red wine to drink just slightly chilled.

For a more serious Beaujolais Nouveau, look no further than Domaine de la Madone Beaujolais Nouveau 2009 ($12 @ Bottle Rocket Wine & Spirit, 5 W. 19th St. betw. Fifth and Sixth avenues, 212-929-2323). Madone is a tiny producer that makes Beaujolais the old-fashioned way. Carbonic maceration is also used, but producers do not add yeasts to the fermenting wine. The result is a more complex, but still light and quaffable drink. This is a Nouveau that is great on its own, but could even go toe-to-toe with a hanger steak.

Whatever your opinion on this decidedly American phenomenon, there are plenty of good bottles of Beaujolais to try this year.

josh@pennilessepicure.com