The concept, red wine with fish, is now as firmly entrenched in culinary phraseology as red wine with meat and white wine with fish. Exactly how does this work, and why?
To get a handle on this, you need to go back to the basic methodology first explicated in the 1989 book by David Rosengarten and Joshua Wesson called Red Wine with Fish. Rosengarten and Wesson proffered a premise that all wines and foods find their match in two basic ways, in terms of similarities and contrast.
Here is the easiest way I can put how red wine can go with fish, based upon matching similar or contrasting sensations:
Since more than anything, it is the bitter or hard tannin components (resulting in excessive contrast with oil and iodine in seafood) found mostly in red wine that are obstacles to matching fish or shellfish, to find the right match you turn to red wines that are minimally contrasting⏤that is, reds that are soft or rounded in tannin, of which there are plenty (I don’t know if he still does, but Wesson was fond of describing these wines as “cross-dressers… red wines that think they’re white”).
Since almost all fish and shellfish find an easier match in wines with some degree of acidity (i.e., having complimenting contrasts), you utilize red wines with at least a modicum of tartness.
Since red wines are indeed best with meatier dishes, you apply this same principle with the use of meatier, as opposed to delicate, types of fish (i.e., going for heightened similarity).
Since many dishes that we eat are sums of their parts or ingredients, we increase the chances of successful red wine matching by cooking seafood with ingredients or techniques that are more likely to match red rather than white wines, finding components that match in terms of both similarity and contrast.
Since red wines, by nature (i.e., fermented with skins, as opposed to whites which are not), are more complex than white wines, we go one step further in our food preparation by consciously utilizing ingredients with some degree of umami—the “delicious,” high amino acid related sensations typically found in soft yet complex styles of wine such as Pinot Noir and other red wines made from lower tannin grapes.
For those of us who started in the restaurant business in the 1970s or '80s, the (at the time) novel idea of serving red wine with fish became just what the doctor ordered because of the growing consumer preference for red over white wines. In a multi-course dinner, for example, we found that we could start with a sparkling or white wine with a seafood appetizer course, and then dive directly into a succession of red wines matched with either seafood or land bred meats.
Then there is the simple fact explaining why red wines often work: Many seafood courses simply taste better with a red rather than white wine; given both the way many red wines are made today (with more emphasis on smoothness of texture, higher acidity, more restraint in body and oak and overall sense of balance), and the way we and many of our favorite chefs cook seafood today (with lots of aggressive ingredients better suited to red rather than white wines). In these contexts, drinking red wine with fish just makes sense.
Many of us, of course, will always have a yen for thick, heavy tannin, super powered reds such as Cabernet Sauvignon or heavy handed Malbec; just like for all the popularity of seafood, we will always love a good, charred, juicy chunk of steak. But if you prefer seafood and at the same time red wines, with sensible guidelines dialed into your own tastes there is no reason why you cannot enjoy a “perfect” match in every meal.
That said, some specific red wine friendly foods we have known and enjoyed well:
ALL TUNA ALL THE TIME
Seared rare or prepared raw (i.e., variations of sashimi, tartare or poke), the higher grades of Pacific ‘ahi tuna are the seafood lovers’ "steak." Because of its red fleshed, high fat meatiness, tuna is one of those fishes that, over 90% of the time, are better matched with red wines. Negligibly tannic, fruity red wines, such as France’s Beaujolais vinified from the Gamay noir grape, are natural tuna matches. But when you crust tuna with bitter peppercorns, char it until branded with grill lines, or dress it up in sauces beefed up with earthy soy sauce, umami rich veal stocks or meaty demi-glace, all of a sudden red wines with stronger tannin underpinnings find balancing notes of similarity.
You can also usually find peppery spiced fruit intensity and generally mild, flexible tannin qualities in red wines made from Grenache (particularly California varietal bottlings, Garnachas from Spain and some of the Grenache-based reds of the Southern Rhône), as well as in Cinsaut (the rare ancient vine California bottlings, or old vine labels from South Africa), near-forgotten spice nuanced California reds made from the historic Mission grape, and the more esoteric Schioppettino from Italy's Friuli Venezia Giulia.
An underrated grape for red fleshed fish and red wine matching is Carignan⏤found in old vine bottlings grown in California, South-West France and Spain⏤which produces reds that are typically moderate in tannin, with bright, acid driven red fruit. Even purer styles of Zinfandel⏤that is, bottlings minimally (or not at all) blended with high tannin grapes such as Petite Sirah, and crafted in the contemporary style with zero new oak⏤fit this category of soft, tuna-friendly varietals, especially given Zinfandel’s intrinsic spice.
But the all-star choice for tuna in these post-Sideways days, of course, is Pinot Noir. “Pinot-Noir-with-everything” is a mantra you hear in many restaurants today, and for good reason: It is the one grape variety producing reds overlapping into virtually all food types—seafoods, leaner cuts of red meats, playfully cooked “other white” meats looking for moderate tannin, and even salads and appetizers better matched with wines with perceptible acidity.
CHARRED OR SMOKY SALMON
Although pinker, less meaty, and slightly stronger in fish oils than tuna, salmon still falls into a category of fish that are usually better matched with red rather than white wines. I’d put this percentage of this working at around 80%; but when you apply preparations resulting in more aggressive sensations—like smoking, wood roasting or grilling, or crusting with pungent herbs and/or peppercorns—you strike notes of similarity pushing the percentage of successful red wine matching closer to 99%. Particularly with Pinot Noir, a wine best finished in toasted French oak, adding the woodsmoky qualities that amplify the grape’s intrinsic spice qualities; as well as Grenache dominated reds that might see a little time in toasty oak (re Gigondas, many Côtes-du-Rhône reds and GSMs from anywhere).
In the Pacific-Northwest, for instance, Pinot Noir and salmon has long been a cultural gastronomic staple, as natural as Chianti with pasta in Tuscany. Native American inspired, open fire, alder or cedar plank cooked salmon is a classic; while modern day regional inflections include pan seared salmon finished with wild berry infused demi-glace (bringing out the berry perfumed qualities of Oregon grown Pinot Noir), or salmon glazed with sweetened soy marinades or ponzus reflecting the Northwest’s Asian-Pacific influences (both sweet and umami sensations mingling with the grape’s perfumed, earth and spice qualities).
But it’s not just Pinot Noir that works for salmon. Former Wine Spectator editor Harvey Steiman has made credible cases for fruit forward, zesty edged, moderately scaled red Zinfandels as natural salmon matches. Going further, when the salmon is roasted with, say, herbs such as basil, dill or chives, or even finished with sun dried tomato or cheese, the even zestier, woodsy, finely textured red wines vinified from Sangiovese (i.e., Chianti Classico, Vino Nobile di Montepulciano or Rosso di Montalcino) makes perfect sense; as would typically sprightly, floral and spice scented wines made from Blaufränkisch (i.e., Lemberger or Limberger) from Austria or Eastern Washington. Try salmon simply charcoal grilled with pungent vegetables (squash, fennel, scallions, etc.), and see if even a lower acid, yet soft and smoky nuanced red such as Tempranillo (from Southern Oregon, California or Spain’s Rioja and Ribera del Duero) doesn’t make a seamless match, which it invariably does.
OYSTERS
At the Grand Central Oyster Bar, conveniently ensconced in New York’s Grand Central Station, they’ll tell you that a soft, zippy Pinot Noir is just as good a match for raw oysters as a sharply dry Sauvignon Blanc. This might not float your boat, but if it does it’s primarily because of oysters’ high umami factor—the softer tannin, spice and earth nuanced qualities of a Pinot Noir can fit the savory components of oysters like a hand in glove. If you're a doubting Thomas, you might try this trick: Grill the bivalves (over wood or charcoal on a grill topper, or with just aluminum foil punched with holes), and you’ll find the smoky sensations in both the wine and oysters working in even easier synchronization. But whether you’re consuming oysters by themselves, baked in any number of ways (from high umami bacon to mildly sweetened black beans), or when added to stews or in other mediums (such as old fashioned Southern style oyster stuffed steak), the point is that oysters are a surprisingly easy fit with red wines—don’t think twice, it’s all right.
MUSSELS
Like oysters, strongly earthy, umami intense mussels—even when stewed, as it usually is, in seafood stock and tart white wine—are one of those foods that open up to either crisp dry whites (offering contrasting notes of acidity) or softly textured reds (offering similarities of earth tones, hot-wired by umami). An interesting thing to try is juxtaposing the two wine types, the white served chilled and the red served slightly chilled (60 minutes in the fridge), and you’ll see how Wesson and Rosengarten’s theorem works in two different ways. Both combinations are definitions of "no-brainer"—requiring no thought, just faith in what your taste buds are telling you, even if unconsciously: That similar sensations of umami pull red wines together with mussels as easily as acidity in white wines.
CHARRED SCALLOPS
One of the longtime signatures of San Francisco’s Traci Des Jardins is scallops pieced with truffled mashed potatoes. She’s also not opposed to browning scallops in butter with smoked bacon and Brussels sprouts, or any of the ways that arouse the senses with clarity and multiplicity of smells. As far as I’m concerned, whenever scallops are flash charred and scented with earth tones and umami driven sensations they become dishes for Pinot Noir—especially those of Burgundy in France, where the varietal perfume always seem more sharply defined, the tannins more supple, and terroir-related earth tones more pervasive. You now, of course, occasionally find that on the West Coast, as varietal styles slowly but surely become more restrained. When scallops are combined with winey balsamic syrups, cured meats such as prosciutto, or pungent vegetables such as spinach or mushrooms, they are more likely to respond to finely delineated reds such as Pinot Noir, although crafty Cinsauts, Grenache-based reds, and the rare yet emerging, transparent scented California Missions are also great ideas.
MIXED SEAFOOD DISHES
Two of the most famous ways of mixing fish and shellfish together in one dish are in the form of bouillabaisse and cioppino—the former fused together by one of the most elemental of spices, saffron, and the latter a San Francisco treat laced with tomato and wine. It is never surprising how well softer tannin, spice scented reds —particularly Pinot Noir, Grenache (a.k.a., Garnacha) or even sleeker styles of Zinfandel—cross so effortlessly with these dishes; although as a classic Mediterranean choice, mildly briny red Bandol (made primarily from Mourvèdre) always makes a striking, if startlingly successful, match⏤a manifestation of both the elements pervasive in this seaside appellation's flavor profile and the savory qualities intrinsic in the Mourvèdre grape.
Then there are the endless variations of paella—rice dishes also based on saffron and cooking in earthy seafood stocks, often in combination with white meats and sausages. Whenever you utilize seafoods in this classic context you are essentially piling on a plethora of high umami components—the one taste sensation that sings most sweetly with soft, multifaceted forms of red wine. Both saffron and tomatoes only intensify the need for varietal reds such as Pinot Noir, Grenache, Cinsaut, and especially supple styles of Tempranillo.
Last but far from least are dishes employing the universally beloved freshwater crustacean: Crawfish. In Louisiana recipes for étouffée or jambalaya, dishes utilizing crawfish are strongly skewed towards red wine friendly ingredients such as chopped onions, bell peppers and celery (the Cajun-Creole “holy trinity”), along with equally umami-rich tomatoes, earthy okra, pungent scallions, and layers upon layers of spices (for vinous purposes, with preferably restrained doses of chile peppers) and “secret” seasonings. It is also a matter of complexity⏤particularly, the umami components of red wines as opposed to less endowed white wines. The most reliable match? Probably all-American red Zinfandels, with their typical jammy sweetness that smooth over strong seasonings, allowing the wine’s intrinsic peppercorn spice to strike a chord of similarity with the Cajun-Creole peppers and spices.
None of this is a matter, as Cole Porter once snappily put it, of “anything goes,” but rather a matter of what makes sense. If you prefer red wine and you love seafood, then you adjust your choice of wines and cook (or order) your dishes in a way that satisfies your predilection, which is just not difficult in these days of hugely variant wines and foodstuffs.