More Wine!

From California:

Chardonnay, estate bottled Iron Horse, Green Valley (Russian River Valley), Sonoma, 2007.
We tried this oaked Chardonnay right after Iron Horse's unoaked version. The unoaked was a pale greenish-silver-straw color, versus the ever slightly more lemony yellow color of the oaked. The fragrances were worlds apart. While the unoaked was herbal and green-appley and briny, the oaked version immediately struck my nose with intense vanilla and coconut fragrances and just a touch of funky washed-rind cheese (in a good way).
Whereas the unoaked was highly acidic to the point of being unbalanced, this wine was a perfect marriage of acid and tannins, with the barest hint of sweetness and delicious vanilla and tropical fruit flavors. I definitely recommend this one - as does the rest of my class!

Gewurtztraminer, estate bottled Navarro Vineyards, Anderson Valley, Mendocino, 2006.
Looking for an exciting wine? I have found - in my extremely limited experience - that Gewurtztraminers smell totally different from other wines, and in a very delicious way - brown sugar and warm spice (nutmeg, clove), fruity and floral (orange blossom, rose, and lychee). It was a bit sweet, fairly acidic, and the taste matched the wonderful fragrance.

Zinfandel, Dry Creek Old Vines, Dry Creek Valley, 2005.
Wow. A red wine that I almost liked! The aroma was super sweet and spicy - like dried fruit and black peppercorns, and it tasted of fresh pomegranate and Black Mission figs and dried blueberries and prunes. Even though it's a dry wine, the intense fruitiness lent a touch of sweetness that stayed perfectly in balance with the tannins and acid, and the flavors lingered for quite some time.

Elysium, Quady Winery, Black Muscat, 2007.
A dessert wine made from rare black Muscat grapes. It smelled and tasted strongly of black cherry juice, and was super-sweet and caramely, and very lovable. Mmm ... to drink this with cheese ... would make me very happy ...

Highlights from Today's Tasting

Vouvray, Goulaine, Loire, France, 2007.
Made from Chenin Blanc grapes in the Loire Valley of France. A pale gold or straw color with a hint of green. Smells oddly (but strongly) of salt-cured olives, as well as guava, honey, flowers, and quince. However, upon a second sniffing the olive smell had completely dissipated and it smelled just like sweet guava. A semi-dry wine (hint of sweetness) that is highly acidic and refreshing, with very complex, delicious honey and tropical fruit flavors.
Vouvray is one of the most underrated wines, but according to this prime example, one of the best whites around!

Orpheus, Petite Sirah, Lolonis, Redwood Valley, Mendocino, California, 2005.
Petite Sirah is a distinct variety of grape, not to be confused with its parent, Syrah/Shiraz (it is a cross between Syrah and Peloursin).
This organic red wine has a superbly complex aroma of dried figs and berries, dark chocolate, black pepper, and coconut. It has a very full body, and the taste - spicy and reminiscent of fresh pomegranate, with just the right amount of tannins - would perfectly complement rich, fatty meats. One of the few red wines I've found tolerable...
(I'm currently trying to overcome my dislike of wine, particularly reds. If I say something is okay, it's an excellent wine!)

Ten year Tawny Port, Taylor Fladgate, Douro, Portugal, n.v.
Yum. Sadly, the only exceptions to my wine aversion are sweet whites (still or sparkling - particularly late harvest Riesling or Gewurztraminer, botrytis wines (Sauternes), presumably ice wine (I haven't tried any yet), the sweeter Champagne-style wines, and fortified wines). Which means I like Port. And this Port was delicious! It smelled so caramelly and nutty, like molasses and brown sugar and pecan pie, and the taste was of all those fragrances, plus fresh black figs and dried fruit and honey. It was sweet and acidic and oh so good. I would love to try it with a nice rich Colston Bassett Stilton...

So it begins ... Wines class

Well I feel like a total slacker. The posts have been few and far between, and I'm not about to fix that today. Tonight my brain needs to recover from the onslaught of information it received in Day 1 of Wines class. However, over the next three weeks I hope to type up all my notes and post them here - a crash course in oenology for blog readers and an excellent way to drill everything deeper into my head!

The weather has continued to be fantastic - mid-50's and sunny with many opportunities for hiking in the woods. My friends and I went to see Alice in Wonderland at the local theater this weekend, and rather than pay good money for popcorn, we brought a whole layer cake in with us. Mind you, this was a homemade flourless chocolate cake, filled with fresh strawberries and a marvelous concoction of heavy cream, sour cream, brown sugar and vanilla, whipped 'till fluffy. We constructed it in a Pyrex cake pan so it would be optimally transportable (and purse friendly). So while Alice and the Mad Hatter drank tea and threw scones, we stuffed our faces with cake...

Ah! Warm at last!

...Warm enough to wear short sleeves, for the snowdrops to bloom, to smell summer on the air, to realize that graduation is just over three months away...

It's in the mid-50's today (apparently it was yesterday as well, but I was holed up in my room with a cold). I went for a nice long hike in the woods and picked some chickweed, watched the birds and chipmunks, and accidentally startled some pregnant does.

Earlier we drove out to Quattro's and bought four pounds of bacon, tomato and basil pork sausages, and pheasant summer sausage.

With dinner tonight I made a nice salad of the chickweed dressed with olive oil and sliced sauteed baby ramps. So simple, but the first handpicked salad of spring is a truly wonderful thing.

The most tragic event of my life

And I'm saying that with only a trace of sarcasm.

I was in 3rd or 4th grade at the time. This was when we lived on the Sammamish plateau, a dreary, rainy place. I came home from school on that fateful afternoon, hungry for comfort - it had been a bad day. My mom put a pot of water on to boil and took out a box of pasta. Nothing soothes like a hot bowl of noodles in the chilly November. I pulled up a stool to the bar counter and rested my head on folded arms. "Sweetie," my mom called after the pasta was done. I picked my head up and watched as she carried the pot over to the sink and drained the farfalle into a waiting colander, "would you like anything on your pasta?" And this is where I choked up.

You need to understand something. I haven't always been the butter queen that I am today. Yes, butter tasted good - but it was too good to be right. Eating butter was a bad thing. A very bad thing that should be accompanied by remorse and guilt and apologies. My mom loved butter then, and still does. Salt too. Every starch she ate - pasta, rice, potatoes - was dabbed with golden butter and sprinkled with salt. But we drank 0% skim milk and lowfat this and nonfat that, and butter was the epitome of weakness. Frowned upon. Only weaklings with no self control ate butter or added salt. It was unhealthy and fattening and an embarrassment to be seen eating it.

But oh how I craved a bowl of buttered noodles that afternoon. In the past I would frequently sneak a bite of my mother's pasta or rice, and it was always so yummy, sinfully good. I never let my parents catch me. I was a good daughter, and I didn't want to let them down. I wanted that buttered pasta so badly it hurt, but I couldn't say it. Even if I had the guts to answer her, it would be a quiet, shameful request. So I told myself to be strong, and answered, "No". "Are you sure? No butter or salt? How about some cheese?" This was too much. I started to cry. She was being so sweet and caring and I couldn't handle it. And she probably wouldn't even get mad at me if I did say yes. My stomach twisted up as I let out a huge sob and said "No, I'm okay". She handed me a bowl of hot but dry pasta, then began dressing hers. Two pats of butter. Several shakes of the salt. She stirred it with her fork and sat up next to me, rubbing my back. We ate in silence as the tears flowed, running into my bowl and seasoning the noodles.

And the worst part was that there was no going back. This would remain the only time in my childhood that she pushed me to ask for butter. If only I had said "yes". It would have opened the door to a new, better childhood paved with butter, rather than dry, bland noodles. If I had said "yes" I would be free to ask for butter again and again. But this one incident planted me firmly on non-hedonistic territory and there was no turning back.

Or at least for another five years.

Mmmm... Butter

It's not often that the butter served at a table overshadows the bread. But St. Andy's brings out a little three-compartment dish to go with the warm cheese biscuits, featuring Ronnybrook Farms butter - plain and herbed - and some type of compote or chutney (last week it was apple; today a pepperonata of sorts). My favorite butter-eating game is to see how little bread is required to consume the allotted amount of butter. But when the waitstaff is eager to bring more butter, at what point do you stop? Today, it was six, mostly shared by Natalie and me. That's five more than most tables ever eat. And I only ate three-quarters of one biscuit. The remainder was slathered on my fish and eaten with a spoon, my idea of dessert. Yeah, I'm crazy.

Today Sarah and I each had another riding lesson. I worked on trotting variations and some cantering. It's definitely been too long, according to my legs!

Here's a must-read from the NYT today: Hip Hop Cuisine.

Happy March!

We're that much closer to spring!

On my walk today I saw a pair of bluebirds. Is it just me, or did they return really early this year?! Maybe this couple is lazy, and they never left. Or I was hallucinating. After all, there's half a foot of snow on the ground.

But talk of maple sugaring is in the (ever slightly warmer) air. I contacted a local farm that is willing to share their stash of sap, so hopefully this weekend we can attempt to make syrup. Yes, I know we'll need 10 gallons for just one quart of syrup. But real maple syrup in any amount is a pretty special thing.