Ensenada: Food and Drink Notes
If you are in California and looking for a budget vacation with great food, I highly recommend Ensenada.
We drove across the border from San Diego during Sunday afternoon and it was a pleasant 2 hour trip. You have to drive from somewhere as there is no airport other than the navy base, but eliminating the flight component from a week long vacation decreases the cost substantially. Add the decreased cost of living and you've got a budget vacation without any real effort.
But the food -- what a wonderful surprise. I expected to be happy because Mexican food is one of my favorite types of food. But I've been more than happy -- I've been almost overwhelmed with food pleasure. Although we've almost been here a week, the variety in Mexican food and flavors that are available have led each of us to be satiated and none of us have yet to tire of the fabulous options.
The first meal, we parked on the small street that leads from the Mex 1 to where we are staying and we walked about a mile. It was Sunday and many stores were closed but we couldn't help but be excited about the options we would have this week.
Eventually, we sat at one of the open air tamale stands and ate ourselves silly on delicious tamales de res y tamales de pollo. The owner plucked each tamale straight from the huge steamer pot and placed them on paper plates where we eagerly untied the tightly tied husks to find deliciously tender masa and wonderfully spiced meat, with a potato added for good measure in the beef offering. I also bought a jar of pickled small yellow peppers mmmm....
From there, we crossed the street and our eyes and noses dragged us into the restaurant with a huge rotating wheel of 10 or so spits turning over a driftwood fire inside an open brick oven. Dos Pollos $140. Los Hermanos it's called -- the logo shows two happy pigs (presumably brothers) sweating in their sombreros inside a pot over a fire. We had a few carnitas tacos (delicious) and discussed the brilliance of their menu offering of la paquetta, which for $220 appeared to be a meal for 8 -- 1 kilo of meat, guacamole, 3 types of salsa, chopped white onions, cilantro, radishes, picked red onions, rice, beans, and a huge stack of corn tortillas from the tortilleria next door. Each day we discuss whether tonight will be the night we go for this option. You know, and whether we should also buy a chicken for good measure...
That first night, we hit the local grocery store to stock up: potatoes, eggs, jalapenos (so *hot* my lips were burning for hours after I cooked with them), some unknown other type of chili that looked like giant habaneros but were tasty and mild, pickled jalapenos and carrots from the deli, nopales, bacon, queso fresco, avacodos ($14 pesos a kilo!), tomatoes (so much tastier than what we can get in this season at home), beer, makings for margaritas, limes, tostadas, chips, beans, hot sauce, and salsa verde. Each morning, Nish and I leisurely compose some form of breakfast from these ingredients to tide us over until our next meal.
One morning, AW came back from his AM walk with pastries from one of the local bakeries. Mmmm... so delicious and buttery without being overly sweet!
Two days ago, we went back to the grocery store for reinforcements to acquire replacements for the few things we'd completely devoured. However, AW had one new item to add to the list -- he wanted chorizo. "It's vacation food," he informed me. "Nish doesn't let me eat it normally because it's so unhealthy."
Nish and I stood in front of the chorizo display and finally, we settled on a single tube of chorizo de cerdo which looked particularly appetizing. However, after a consultation with E, we agreed that perhaps we needed two tubes. So, we put the single tube down and purchased the double tube to its left.
Imagine our surprise yesterday morning to find the label on the double tube read,
Chorizo de Soya
Thankfully, the second ingredient was grasa de cerdo (aka lard) so we weren't in too much trouble, but us Californians were quite amused at the soy-lard combo, which clearly isn't vegetarian friendly, and probably isn't that much healthier than the original. The best guess we could come up with is that it stretches the meat further, which, for once, was a use of soy in a meat-replacement product that E could get behind. For the record, the soy chorizo was actually quite tasty, although I suspect AW will silently never forgive us for missing his one big chance at the real thing before he and Nish move to New York.
Another food highlight was the deep-fried fish tacos by the docks at 8 pesos each. Mmmmm.... it's what Ensenada is famous for, and for good reason. So tasty, fried to order and not too greasy, so many salsas to select from, it's heaven. Like the paquetta, this is another option we regularly discuss as to whether we'll be going back for more. The problem there is that it's downtown, near the cruise ships and full of all of the hawking, yelling, tourist crap, and annoyance that we successfully avoid by staying outside of town. Given that Ensenada is supposedly the least border-town-ish of the border towns, I can say with conviction that I would not enjoy a visit to Tijuana or Rosarito, which, supposedly, make this chaos, debauchery, and peddling look like nothing.
In truth, we haven't had a bad meal yet, although AW and nish did end up with some unidentified organ meat concoction as one of their selections at a Mexico-city-style lunch restaurant offering clay pots of various meat preparations. That was one of the few times on this trip when all of our plates weren't cleaned completely, but we agreed that even though we only enjoyed 3 of the 4 selections of meat (the birria and unidentified spicy stewed pork were amazing, the mole was okay), given the 10 handmade tortillas, beans, rice, salsas and drinks (jamaica for me, 1 coke in a glass bottle and two bottled waters), that lunch was still a steal for a total of less than $110 pesos.
As for drinks, it's what you'd expect, with one twist. Coke has sugar and not corn syrup and thus is a popular option for both E and AW. Bottled water is a necessity as the water in our condo is salty (even in the shower!) and filled with who-knows-what that white film on the bottom of the pan when we boil it is. And, in contrast to the water, it's almost impossible to get a bad margarita, and the beers are always fresh, cold, and light.
The twist is the wine. North of ensenada is a wine region known as the Valle Guadalupe. The oldest winery in Mexico is Santo Thomas, and their winery offers brief tours and tastings. The whites all have an unfortunate common funkiness to them. But several of the heavier reds are quite nice. We bought a bottle of the cabernet sauvignon to enjoy at home. We had plans to go winetasting in the valley, but Mexico-time took over and that plan never really materialized. That's okay, though, since we were able to sample several of the local products with our amazing meal at Laja restaurant (which will get its own post, later).
So, yeah. In our typical true-relaxation vacation style, we've spent time and effort on flavor and food-related adventures, and we've put very little effort into anything else.
Showing posts with label wine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wine. Show all posts
July 4, 2008
April 6, 2008
Zazu, Michael Mina, (and Cyrus, vicariously)
Friday night, after fighting the traffic from Silicon Valley to Sonoma County, we had a delicious meal at Zazu, thanks to the recommendation of R's little bro, an up-and-coming sous-chef in the area, who acted as our culinary and wine guide for the weekend via cell phone.
We were meeting up with a hard-core group of east-coast visitors who'd been living in a rented house in Healdsburg and had been wine-tasting and restaurant hopping for 2-days straight by the time we arrived, so we deferred to them on the bottle of Brogan Cellars Pinot Noir to start.
Light, bright fruit, and playful on the palate, it was an excellent way for a group of 6 to wait for their table at the bar with nothing but bread. Plus, as we were sitting there, we could look straight into the kitchen, which caused D & C to point and say, That's totally Zoi from top chef.
It was. She even came out to say hi to the table during our meal, and she was quite gracious and nice. Given my recent exposure to Kaki's fame, I was doubly impressed with Zoi's presence and obvious sincere gratitude to her patrons.
Once seated, we enjoyed the antipasto plate that, in truth, was the star of the evening -- home-cured meats (including a paprika-spiced salumi that was to die for)... cheeses galore... olives... mmmm... what's not to like? We washed these treats down with a lovely Barbera and listened to the visiting group's tales of their amazing visit to Cyrus, which, according to some, is properly receiving better reviews than the French Laundry these days.
And, in keeping with the theme of the weekend, while we were close to satiated after the first course, we powered through entrees and desserts to fill out the evening (and our bellies). In an acknowledgment that it would be next to impossible to find a wine that would match the table's homey comfort food entree selections of steak, ribs, duck, and lemon asparagus ricotta lasagna we left ourselves in our server's hands and enjoyed a pleasantly versatile (if a bit hot for a pinot noir) Emeritus.
Saturday, after a day of wine-tasting and a picnic, we rounded up the troops to drive to San Francisco to check into our hotel, relax, and prepare for the final meal of the trip at Michael Mina.
But, somehow, one of the east-coast visitors made us stop at In-n-out on the way to the city. That's right! You're only in Norcal once every 4 or 5 years. Why not? So, of course, despite living here, and being full to a ridiculous level, I had fries. And they were good...
As for Michael Mina, I must say, I was pleasantly surprised. I'd heard mixed reviews, and in particular, I'd heard that many people felt it was overpriced and that the food really wasn't the star of the show, that rather it was about ambiance, tourists being able to say that they had been there, and the caché.
According to our visitors, Little-R was right, when he said that he expected Cyrus to out-perform Michael Mina. They said it did. But really, that's nothing to cry about. If people in Sonoma are arguing about whether Cyrus is out-performing French Laundry right now, and if you throw in price as a factor, and trust the descriptions from our visitors (Best meal of my life, I hate fancy restaurants and I felt welcome, plus it was some of the best food I've ever eaten..., they brought a whole plate of sweetbreads for me when I jokingly mentioned that I was disappointed with the few that were on my entrée -- and they only charged me $15 for it...) I would not be surprised that Cyrus is outperforming FL according to some -- with arguably equally caliber food, amazing service, and more flexible options for appetite and timing, all for less than a luxury car-payment... Let's just say Cyrus is very high on our to-visit list now.
Standing on its own, however, Michael Mina is no slouch. It is at the same price-point as my least favorite Michelin Two-Star Manresa, and better than Manresa in every way that I care about. In fact, it's definitely on the short list of best high-end restaurant meals I've ever enjoyed.
The service was slightly more stiff than I prefer, but given the location, I can understand that my more relaxed preferences may not be the same as the majority of their clientele, and I can not fault their execution -- it was precisely timed, knowledgeable, and polite.
The location is amazing (something locals may run the risk of forgetting): it's in a gorgeous historic hotel facing Union Square.
The wine list is extensive, and the servers and sommellier are knowledgeable, kind, and willing to recommend (politely) their preferences, even when they may be less expensive than the bottle you suggested. Specifically, the sommellier recommended we go with a lower priced Merry Edwards Pinot Noir than the one we had selected, and the table enjoyed two bottles of his recommendation (the 2005 Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir) with joy (although I opted for white wine by the glass to pair with my very light fish-based meal selection, I tasted the Merry Edwards and found it to be lightly earthy-on-the-nose, light balanced fruit, and a pleasure to drink that would have been wonderful with the majority of the table's selections).
The trio approach to serving food is fun. I liked the idea of three variations on a common theme all in one plate. I've seen it done occasionally on some menus, but I've never seen an entire menu based on the concept (with a few classic options for those who wanted to opt out). I found it clever, and I know it takes more time and effort to do 3 well-prepared approaches to an ingredient than 1, so I also found it technically impressive, and a great way to educate my palate about variety in food.
The trio welcome platter was an excellent way to start a meal. And the pinnacle of the triangle immediately focused the group on a lively conversation -- it was a small cup of uni panna cotta, topped with uni suspended in a gelée, and a sprinkling of dried seaweed and toasted rice pearls. Immediately, people had opinions. Many people made a face at the strong flavors. I found it to be one of the best flavor/texture combinations I've ever had. And, I was very impressed with the bold move of offering fish-pudding to start. That takes confidence!
Perhaps part of the reason I loved my meal was that I was in the mood for something lighter and I went the fish route. I have since learned that Mina's rise to excellence was partially as the co-founder and conceptual developer of Aqua, so perhaps my desire for seafood was a wonderful coincidence.
Regardless of why or how it ended up in front of me, the tropical crudo trio was one of the best (if not the best) preparations of raw fish I have ever enjoyed. The fluke, well, I didn't expect to be wowed, but I was. Kampachi, I expected to adore, and I did. But, in particular, I was amazed at how much I enjoyed the spanish mackerel, which typically, I avoid in sashimi form, due to what I perceive to be its overly fishy flavor. The quality of all three types of fish was divinely fresh, the servings were larger than I would have expected, and each collection of 3-4 slices was perfectly plated on a 3-grooved long plate, with gorgeous mini-cubes of the selected accoutrements and colorful glazes of sauces below, that when eaten together in the same bite with the fishes made me *very* pleased.
I very much enjoyed my salted, seared, and poached presentations of cod as the second course as well. And the white burgundy the server selected for my pairing was one of the best flavor pairings between wine and food I've ever had.
The cheese plate was amazing, as evidenced by my ability to eat all of the cheese and many of the selected side-flavor presentations despite my need for perfect posture due to the expansion in my belly from the day's picnic, wine-tasting, in-n-out, not to mention my growing self-preservation sense that after the last 36 hours, I should really avoid all food.
All-in-all, I was very impressed with the restaurant, the service, the food, the wine, the location, and, how they handled our large party of 7. All courses were served French-style at exactly two perfectly timed moments (women, then men). Dishes were cleared unobtrusively. Wine was poured appropriately and politely. They added a gratuity of 20% to the bill, which while some may find presumptuous, in our case was somewhat of a blessing because it effectively killed all discussion of gratuity (unlike the occasional discussion that an added tip on top of 18.5% for the group can incite) -- because the service had been impeccable for 3.25 hours, we were more than happy to pay 20% and no one felt the need to ask if the others were tipping more. And, they accepted 4 credit cards and divided the bill into 1/7, 2/7, 2/7, and 2/7 without a lifted eyebrow.
Friday night, after fighting the traffic from Silicon Valley to Sonoma County, we had a delicious meal at Zazu, thanks to the recommendation of R's little bro, an up-and-coming sous-chef in the area, who acted as our culinary and wine guide for the weekend via cell phone.
We were meeting up with a hard-core group of east-coast visitors who'd been living in a rented house in Healdsburg and had been wine-tasting and restaurant hopping for 2-days straight by the time we arrived, so we deferred to them on the bottle of Brogan Cellars Pinot Noir to start.
Light, bright fruit, and playful on the palate, it was an excellent way for a group of 6 to wait for their table at the bar with nothing but bread. Plus, as we were sitting there, we could look straight into the kitchen, which caused D & C to point and say, That's totally Zoi from top chef.
It was. She even came out to say hi to the table during our meal, and she was quite gracious and nice. Given my recent exposure to Kaki's fame, I was doubly impressed with Zoi's presence and obvious sincere gratitude to her patrons.
Once seated, we enjoyed the antipasto plate that, in truth, was the star of the evening -- home-cured meats (including a paprika-spiced salumi that was to die for)... cheeses galore... olives... mmmm... what's not to like? We washed these treats down with a lovely Barbera and listened to the visiting group's tales of their amazing visit to Cyrus, which, according to some, is properly receiving better reviews than the French Laundry these days.
And, in keeping with the theme of the weekend, while we were close to satiated after the first course, we powered through entrees and desserts to fill out the evening (and our bellies). In an acknowledgment that it would be next to impossible to find a wine that would match the table's homey comfort food entree selections of steak, ribs, duck, and lemon asparagus ricotta lasagna we left ourselves in our server's hands and enjoyed a pleasantly versatile (if a bit hot for a pinot noir) Emeritus.
Saturday, after a day of wine-tasting and a picnic, we rounded up the troops to drive to San Francisco to check into our hotel, relax, and prepare for the final meal of the trip at Michael Mina.
But, somehow, one of the east-coast visitors made us stop at In-n-out on the way to the city. That's right! You're only in Norcal once every 4 or 5 years. Why not? So, of course, despite living here, and being full to a ridiculous level, I had fries. And they were good...
As for Michael Mina, I must say, I was pleasantly surprised. I'd heard mixed reviews, and in particular, I'd heard that many people felt it was overpriced and that the food really wasn't the star of the show, that rather it was about ambiance, tourists being able to say that they had been there, and the caché.
According to our visitors, Little-R was right, when he said that he expected Cyrus to out-perform Michael Mina. They said it did. But really, that's nothing to cry about. If people in Sonoma are arguing about whether Cyrus is out-performing French Laundry right now, and if you throw in price as a factor, and trust the descriptions from our visitors (Best meal of my life, I hate fancy restaurants and I felt welcome, plus it was some of the best food I've ever eaten..., they brought a whole plate of sweetbreads for me when I jokingly mentioned that I was disappointed with the few that were on my entrée -- and they only charged me $15 for it...) I would not be surprised that Cyrus is outperforming FL according to some -- with arguably equally caliber food, amazing service, and more flexible options for appetite and timing, all for less than a luxury car-payment... Let's just say Cyrus is very high on our to-visit list now.
Standing on its own, however, Michael Mina is no slouch. It is at the same price-point as my least favorite Michelin Two-Star Manresa, and better than Manresa in every way that I care about. In fact, it's definitely on the short list of best high-end restaurant meals I've ever enjoyed.
The service was slightly more stiff than I prefer, but given the location, I can understand that my more relaxed preferences may not be the same as the majority of their clientele, and I can not fault their execution -- it was precisely timed, knowledgeable, and polite.
The location is amazing (something locals may run the risk of forgetting): it's in a gorgeous historic hotel facing Union Square.
The wine list is extensive, and the servers and sommellier are knowledgeable, kind, and willing to recommend (politely) their preferences, even when they may be less expensive than the bottle you suggested. Specifically, the sommellier recommended we go with a lower priced Merry Edwards Pinot Noir than the one we had selected, and the table enjoyed two bottles of his recommendation (the 2005 Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir) with joy (although I opted for white wine by the glass to pair with my very light fish-based meal selection, I tasted the Merry Edwards and found it to be lightly earthy-on-the-nose, light balanced fruit, and a pleasure to drink that would have been wonderful with the majority of the table's selections).
The trio approach to serving food is fun. I liked the idea of three variations on a common theme all in one plate. I've seen it done occasionally on some menus, but I've never seen an entire menu based on the concept (with a few classic options for those who wanted to opt out). I found it clever, and I know it takes more time and effort to do 3 well-prepared approaches to an ingredient than 1, so I also found it technically impressive, and a great way to educate my palate about variety in food.
The trio welcome platter was an excellent way to start a meal. And the pinnacle of the triangle immediately focused the group on a lively conversation -- it was a small cup of uni panna cotta, topped with uni suspended in a gelée, and a sprinkling of dried seaweed and toasted rice pearls. Immediately, people had opinions. Many people made a face at the strong flavors. I found it to be one of the best flavor/texture combinations I've ever had. And, I was very impressed with the bold move of offering fish-pudding to start. That takes confidence!
Perhaps part of the reason I loved my meal was that I was in the mood for something lighter and I went the fish route. I have since learned that Mina's rise to excellence was partially as the co-founder and conceptual developer of Aqua, so perhaps my desire for seafood was a wonderful coincidence.
Regardless of why or how it ended up in front of me, the tropical crudo trio was one of the best (if not the best) preparations of raw fish I have ever enjoyed. The fluke, well, I didn't expect to be wowed, but I was. Kampachi, I expected to adore, and I did. But, in particular, I was amazed at how much I enjoyed the spanish mackerel, which typically, I avoid in sashimi form, due to what I perceive to be its overly fishy flavor. The quality of all three types of fish was divinely fresh, the servings were larger than I would have expected, and each collection of 3-4 slices was perfectly plated on a 3-grooved long plate, with gorgeous mini-cubes of the selected accoutrements and colorful glazes of sauces below, that when eaten together in the same bite with the fishes made me *very* pleased.
I very much enjoyed my salted, seared, and poached presentations of cod as the second course as well. And the white burgundy the server selected for my pairing was one of the best flavor pairings between wine and food I've ever had.
The cheese plate was amazing, as evidenced by my ability to eat all of the cheese and many of the selected side-flavor presentations despite my need for perfect posture due to the expansion in my belly from the day's picnic, wine-tasting, in-n-out, not to mention my growing self-preservation sense that after the last 36 hours, I should really avoid all food.
All-in-all, I was very impressed with the restaurant, the service, the food, the wine, the location, and, how they handled our large party of 7. All courses were served French-style at exactly two perfectly timed moments (women, then men). Dishes were cleared unobtrusively. Wine was poured appropriately and politely. They added a gratuity of 20% to the bill, which while some may find presumptuous, in our case was somewhat of a blessing because it effectively killed all discussion of gratuity (unlike the occasional discussion that an added tip on top of 18.5% for the group can incite) -- because the service had been impeccable for 3.25 hours, we were more than happy to pay 20% and no one felt the need to ask if the others were tipping more. And, they accepted 4 credit cards and divided the bill into 1/7, 2/7, 2/7, and 2/7 without a lifted eyebrow.
Sonoma Wine -- Hanna, Stryker, and Verité
Hanna was just as beautiful, but less impressive than last time. They have a low $5 tasting fee (refunded with purchase), which is nice. But, I had my heart set on buying their reserve Sauvignon Blanc, and they no longer make it. So, I was sad.
Their larger production wines are solid, and reasonably priced for the region. But, overall, they have moved away from some of the smaller production wines I loved them for and even at the winery, it feels much more like a solid business winery (nothing wrong with that) than a local operation.
Their standard sauvingnon blanc is, as always, a great pleasure to drink, but at $18/bottle, it's not a fabulous value (just a good one), so we bought a couple of bottles, but on our next visit, we may skip them, since we can get it at Safeway (and I will the next time I feel like rewarding myself). Their Bismark reds are good, so we bought one or two bottles, but we left much more in love with the setting and the pictures we took than the wine.
From there, we headed to Stryker to eat our lunch in what has to be one of the most beautiful picnic settings in the world. Our visiting friends had purchased quite a selection of cured meets, cheeses, breads, and tabouleh, so we feasted in grand style with a glass of the 2004 Stryker Rockpile Merlot (at $36 plus a discount for a promotion, this wine was quite a value -- and we brought another bottle home to lay down).
And finally, thanks to little-R's recommendation, we found ourselves at Verité for one of the best wine-tasting experiences I've ever had. We were greeted by a friendly Wine Educator (how cool is that title?) who explained the layout of the winery and the grapes used to make the wine before she escorted our group of 12 to a formal dining-room like setting where we learned she was an advanced somellier who would be leading us on a wine-class-like tasting through the 6 pre-poured glasses of heaven for 90 minutes.
At $25 to taste, it was not cheap. But, I've paid $80 for similar-length wine-tasting classes taught by professionals with her credentials, and she conveyed just as much useful knowledge as they did during those courses.
Unlike many wineries, Verité does not refund your tasting fee with purchase. However, their wines are amazing and their price point is quite high. During the class, you taste and could finish six 1/2 glasses of their great Bordeaux-style stuff while you are walked through comparisons between what is in front of you and the various styles in Bordeaux that the winemaker/vigneron is trying to achieve.
The discussion made me nostalgic for my days in La Rive Gauche when I first learned to drink wine. How spoiled I was...
Given the nostalgia, I was a marked sucker, and while I didn't fall prey to the aged offerings, I did buy the most expensive bottle of wine I've ever purchased. But, it was heavenly now, and the older versions had aged so wonderfully, that I felt compelled to act and store it for a special occasion. Perhaps our 5th wedding anniversary.
Plus, I did the math and determined that given what the sell the bottles for, the value of the tasting in the glasses was way more than the nominal fee they charge (as in, to buy the bottles and replicate the tasting for 12 would have cost $75.83 per person). And, on our exit, the wine educator gave us 4 half-bottles of wine to enjoy when we reached our hotel, which had they been for sale in 1/2 bottle units, would have cost at least $250.
So, upon leaving, I didn't feel like I'd been swindled into spending entirely too much on wine. Rather, I was giddy and filled with expectation of great things to come. So yeah. Verité winery. An amazing local Bordeaux-inspired experience. And it's cheaper than going to France...
Hanna was just as beautiful, but less impressive than last time. They have a low $5 tasting fee (refunded with purchase), which is nice. But, I had my heart set on buying their reserve Sauvignon Blanc, and they no longer make it. So, I was sad.
Their larger production wines are solid, and reasonably priced for the region. But, overall, they have moved away from some of the smaller production wines I loved them for and even at the winery, it feels much more like a solid business winery (nothing wrong with that) than a local operation.
Their standard sauvingnon blanc is, as always, a great pleasure to drink, but at $18/bottle, it's not a fabulous value (just a good one), so we bought a couple of bottles, but on our next visit, we may skip them, since we can get it at Safeway (and I will the next time I feel like rewarding myself). Their Bismark reds are good, so we bought one or two bottles, but we left much more in love with the setting and the pictures we took than the wine.
From there, we headed to Stryker to eat our lunch in what has to be one of the most beautiful picnic settings in the world. Our visiting friends had purchased quite a selection of cured meets, cheeses, breads, and tabouleh, so we feasted in grand style with a glass of the 2004 Stryker Rockpile Merlot (at $36 plus a discount for a promotion, this wine was quite a value -- and we brought another bottle home to lay down).
And finally, thanks to little-R's recommendation, we found ourselves at Verité for one of the best wine-tasting experiences I've ever had. We were greeted by a friendly Wine Educator (how cool is that title?) who explained the layout of the winery and the grapes used to make the wine before she escorted our group of 12 to a formal dining-room like setting where we learned she was an advanced somellier who would be leading us on a wine-class-like tasting through the 6 pre-poured glasses of heaven for 90 minutes.
At $25 to taste, it was not cheap. But, I've paid $80 for similar-length wine-tasting classes taught by professionals with her credentials, and she conveyed just as much useful knowledge as they did during those courses.
Unlike many wineries, Verité does not refund your tasting fee with purchase. However, their wines are amazing and their price point is quite high. During the class, you taste and could finish six 1/2 glasses of their great Bordeaux-style stuff while you are walked through comparisons between what is in front of you and the various styles in Bordeaux that the winemaker/vigneron is trying to achieve.
The discussion made me nostalgic for my days in La Rive Gauche when I first learned to drink wine. How spoiled I was...
Given the nostalgia, I was a marked sucker, and while I didn't fall prey to the aged offerings, I did buy the most expensive bottle of wine I've ever purchased. But, it was heavenly now, and the older versions had aged so wonderfully, that I felt compelled to act and store it for a special occasion. Perhaps our 5th wedding anniversary.
Plus, I did the math and determined that given what the sell the bottles for, the value of the tasting in the glasses was way more than the nominal fee they charge (as in, to buy the bottles and replicate the tasting for 12 would have cost $75.83 per person). And, on our exit, the wine educator gave us 4 half-bottles of wine to enjoy when we reached our hotel, which had they been for sale in 1/2 bottle units, would have cost at least $250.
So, upon leaving, I didn't feel like I'd been swindled into spending entirely too much on wine. Rather, I was giddy and filled with expectation of great things to come. So yeah. Verité winery. An amazing local Bordeaux-inspired experience. And it's cheaper than going to France...
January 5, 2008
A Great Storm
You might have heard about the California storm that we've been experiencing. Torrential downpours. Winds so severe they closed the bay area bridges to avoid additional big-rigs from blowing over. A landslide on highway 17.
When I arrived home around 7:30 PM, the last few blocks of my drive were from another place and time. Instead of my pseudo-urban, busy, well-lit subdivision full of Christmas lights and blow-up decorations, I found myself driving in the country at night, unable to see anything except what my headlights illuminated. In addition to the blackness, when I got out of the car, it was beautifully silent (except for our neighbor's generator, but they have a newborn baby, so I was glad they were prepared). I wonder if that's what our neighborhood was like when it was first built.
Given the all-electric kitchen, we drove downtown, where they have power, and went out to a simple Italianesque dinner at a restaurant that used to be a regular in our rotation but somehow fell out. We remembered why we used to like it -- the food is good and there are simple options, the service is great, the specials were delicious, the owners are quirky (the head chef often sings opera while strolling through the restaurant), and the wine list is short, but well-selected and reasonably priced. We enjoyed a delicious, light Ventana Pinot Noir that they sell for around $38, which is very impressive given the retail price of $28.
After the big night on the town, we came home and lit candles to brighten the house and tone down the eerie glow of our flourescent lantern. We have a few decorative candles, but that's it, they are just decorative. The wicks are primarily unburnt. Until last night. Thanks to the storm, I realized that candles are nice, they give a soft glow to the room, and they smell good. They just feel relaxing.
And they make a nice relaxing side to a resounding round of scrabble that goes 'til midnight. (I lost. By one point. Apparently, Slavak is not a word.)
This storm was an excellent opportunity for me to work on my New Year's Resolution:
to be more calm and roll with the punches.
My sister and mother were *supposed* to visit this weekend (no travel due to the storm). Last night, I was *supposed* to come home and run on my treadmill (which requires power).
But hey, I wouldn't have been able to enjoy the dark neighborhood, the candles, or scrabble if things had gone as they were *supposed* to.
Now I just have to figure out how to roll with today's planned long run of 11 miles and the predicted thundershowers and I'll be in great shape.
You might have heard about the California storm that we've been experiencing. Torrential downpours. Winds so severe they closed the bay area bridges to avoid additional big-rigs from blowing over. A landslide on highway 17.
When I arrived home around 7:30 PM, the last few blocks of my drive were from another place and time. Instead of my pseudo-urban, busy, well-lit subdivision full of Christmas lights and blow-up decorations, I found myself driving in the country at night, unable to see anything except what my headlights illuminated. In addition to the blackness, when I got out of the car, it was beautifully silent (except for our neighbor's generator, but they have a newborn baby, so I was glad they were prepared). I wonder if that's what our neighborhood was like when it was first built.
Given the all-electric kitchen, we drove downtown, where they have power, and went out to a simple Italianesque dinner at a restaurant that used to be a regular in our rotation but somehow fell out. We remembered why we used to like it -- the food is good and there are simple options, the service is great, the specials were delicious, the owners are quirky (the head chef often sings opera while strolling through the restaurant), and the wine list is short, but well-selected and reasonably priced. We enjoyed a delicious, light Ventana Pinot Noir that they sell for around $38, which is very impressive given the retail price of $28.
After the big night on the town, we came home and lit candles to brighten the house and tone down the eerie glow of our flourescent lantern. We have a few decorative candles, but that's it, they are just decorative. The wicks are primarily unburnt. Until last night. Thanks to the storm, I realized that candles are nice, they give a soft glow to the room, and they smell good. They just feel relaxing.
And they make a nice relaxing side to a resounding round of scrabble that goes 'til midnight. (I lost. By one point. Apparently, Slavak is not a word.)
This storm was an excellent opportunity for me to work on my New Year's Resolution:
to be more calm and roll with the punches.
My sister and mother were *supposed* to visit this weekend (no travel due to the storm). Last night, I was *supposed* to come home and run on my treadmill (which requires power).
But hey, I wouldn't have been able to enjoy the dark neighborhood, the candles, or scrabble if things had gone as they were *supposed* to.
Now I just have to figure out how to roll with today's planned long run of 11 miles and the predicted thundershowers and I'll be in great shape.
March 4, 2007
Well-Aged Pleasure
Tonight, P & F came over for a home-cooked meal to celebrate P's birthday.
I made fresh pappardelle and put the pasta machine to work for the first time. It was laborious, but fun. I was amused to see that even in the 2 hours between when I made the pasta and I cooked it, it had started to dry into the consistency you think of when you think of pasta. Hard. Yellow. Slightly crunchy.
As for the sauce, I cheated. I used leftover frozen bolognese from E's birthday dinner.
And for the wine. Well, it was glorious.
We opened a bottle of 1998 La Braccesca.
Heaven.
God bless the owner of the wine store in Cortona who picked out the 6 bottles I shipped back in 2001. As I learned more about wine I realized he didn't take advantage of my ignorance and actually did pick quite a wonderful selection. They have been aging and waiting for the right moment since their arrival. Tonight's selection was the first of the 6. It was perfect. It makes me think the others may be near their time as well...
In fact, the whole meal was in it's prime: the pasta machine has been here at least a year, waiting patiently in line for its first use. The pasta had dried for 2 hours (or the first few noodles had, anyways). The mustard greens were fresh. The bolognese had aged in the freezer. And the egg tarts that P & F brought had been obtained after waiting in a long line in Chinatown.
Sometimes, a little waiting is a good thing.
Tonight, P & F came over for a home-cooked meal to celebrate P's birthday.
I made fresh pappardelle and put the pasta machine to work for the first time. It was laborious, but fun. I was amused to see that even in the 2 hours between when I made the pasta and I cooked it, it had started to dry into the consistency you think of when you think of pasta. Hard. Yellow. Slightly crunchy.
As for the sauce, I cheated. I used leftover frozen bolognese from E's birthday dinner.
And for the wine. Well, it was glorious.
We opened a bottle of 1998 La Braccesca.
Heaven.
God bless the owner of the wine store in Cortona who picked out the 6 bottles I shipped back in 2001. As I learned more about wine I realized he didn't take advantage of my ignorance and actually did pick quite a wonderful selection. They have been aging and waiting for the right moment since their arrival. Tonight's selection was the first of the 6. It was perfect. It makes me think the others may be near their time as well...
In fact, the whole meal was in it's prime: the pasta machine has been here at least a year, waiting patiently in line for its first use. The pasta had dried for 2 hours (or the first few noodles had, anyways). The mustard greens were fresh. The bolognese had aged in the freezer. And the egg tarts that P & F brought had been obtained after waiting in a long line in Chinatown.
Sometimes, a little waiting is a good thing.
October 10, 2005
Oregon: It's another country
This weekend, E and I took a mini-vacation to meet up with friends from Manhattan in Portland, Oregon.
I've traveled to many foreign countries. I'm familiar with culture shock. But, I didn't expect to experience it merely one state north from my roots. I suffered from the idea that since I was raised in Northern California, Oregon just couldn't be that different. I was wrong.
At first, we were baffled by the amazing beer and relative lack of public celebration thereof. Then, we were confused by the sub-Italian pace of life. Finally, we all sheepishly agreed that the Willamette Valley made some good Pinot, but with nowhere near the consistency that the acclaim it has received would indicate. While enjoying the Meditrina release party at Sokol Blosser, we were given an explanation. No doubt, the man with the fake leaf wreath hat had no idea that he was explaining our entire Oregon experience. But explain it, he did:
This valley? Well, it's famous for 6 products. All of them agricultural.
#1? That's ornamental nursery plants. (makes sense, I thought, reminiscing on the multiple fields of pretty flowers we'd passed on our drive.)
#2? Well, that's hazelnuts, of course. This valley makes 95% of the hazelnuts consumed in the United States. (Huh. Roasting on an open fire, indeed.)
#3? Christmas trees. (Yup. We'd seen many fields of those in various stages of growth.)
#4? Unofficially. Marijuana. (An unofficial lightbulb went off in each of our heads. The explanation for the culture shock is that the whole state is totally roasting on an open fire, as it were.)
#5? Wine. (Number 5? This explains our underwhelm. When the wine is outranked by the unknown previous 4, well, California wine will spoil you. Seriously, though, we tasted some excellent Willamette Valley Products, and the scenery was gorgeous. But, overall, the hype was a bit too much, when the entire region is taken as a whole. In particular, we recommend avoiding Archery Summit if you're not into driving long distances to be treated like crap for the privilege of paying $10 to taste a $120 Oregon Pinot Noir that is the poster child of inexplicable trendy wine rag fame.)
#6? Huckleberries. (They are crazy about 'em up there. Who knew?)
The short story is this: if you are looking for a great, cheap destination with fabulous regional food options and the opportunity to feel as if you didn't leave anything undone after 3 days of walking and driving around to experience the northern bounty, we *HIGH*ly recommend Portland. (Caveat #1: If you are single and are looking for a night scene, this may not be the best option for you. Caveat #2: Despite what seems to be a slower pace of life, you will not have enough time to do all of your work for the weekend if you are a 3L taking a full load. You will return relaxed, fat, refreshed, full of beer that is better than the wine, and even further behind than when you left on your schoolwork.)
This weekend, E and I took a mini-vacation to meet up with friends from Manhattan in Portland, Oregon.
I've traveled to many foreign countries. I'm familiar with culture shock. But, I didn't expect to experience it merely one state north from my roots. I suffered from the idea that since I was raised in Northern California, Oregon just couldn't be that different. I was wrong.
At first, we were baffled by the amazing beer and relative lack of public celebration thereof. Then, we were confused by the sub-Italian pace of life. Finally, we all sheepishly agreed that the Willamette Valley made some good Pinot, but with nowhere near the consistency that the acclaim it has received would indicate. While enjoying the Meditrina release party at Sokol Blosser, we were given an explanation. No doubt, the man with the fake leaf wreath hat had no idea that he was explaining our entire Oregon experience. But explain it, he did:
This valley? Well, it's famous for 6 products. All of them agricultural.
#1? That's ornamental nursery plants. (makes sense, I thought, reminiscing on the multiple fields of pretty flowers we'd passed on our drive.)
#2? Well, that's hazelnuts, of course. This valley makes 95% of the hazelnuts consumed in the United States. (Huh. Roasting on an open fire, indeed.)
#3? Christmas trees. (Yup. We'd seen many fields of those in various stages of growth.)
#4? Unofficially. Marijuana. (An unofficial lightbulb went off in each of our heads. The explanation for the culture shock is that the whole state is totally roasting on an open fire, as it were.)
#5? Wine. (Number 5? This explains our underwhelm. When the wine is outranked by the unknown previous 4, well, California wine will spoil you. Seriously, though, we tasted some excellent Willamette Valley Products, and the scenery was gorgeous. But, overall, the hype was a bit too much, when the entire region is taken as a whole. In particular, we recommend avoiding Archery Summit if you're not into driving long distances to be treated like crap for the privilege of paying $10 to taste a $120 Oregon Pinot Noir that is the poster child of inexplicable trendy wine rag fame.)
#6? Huckleberries. (They are crazy about 'em up there. Who knew?)
The short story is this: if you are looking for a great, cheap destination with fabulous regional food options and the opportunity to feel as if you didn't leave anything undone after 3 days of walking and driving around to experience the northern bounty, we *HIGH*ly recommend Portland. (Caveat #1: If you are single and are looking for a night scene, this may not be the best option for you. Caveat #2: Despite what seems to be a slower pace of life, you will not have enough time to do all of your work for the weekend if you are a 3L taking a full load. You will return relaxed, fat, refreshed, full of beer that is better than the wine, and even further behind than when you left on your schoolwork.)
January 9, 2005
Vacation: Food and Wine Report
Kangaroo.
Turns out, them's good eats. I know, I was shocked too. I ordered it at one restaurant on a whim. I figured, since Kangaroos are the Australian version of our racoon, it would probably be gamey, stringy, and fairly disgusting. But, instead, it was a very pleasant meat, served rare, with a taste reminiscent of duck (an oddly low fat duck) and the consistency of rare filet of beef.
Other Food.
Anything and everything you want, except there's not a single decent Mexican food place in the whole country. There's a serious opportunity there. Someone. Go. Do it. Burritos, Tacos and Margaritas belong on those beaches!
Like California, there's a strong commitment to good food and large immigrant communities from almost every well-known food nation to offer their expertise. In continuation of that pseudo-California, but ha-ha, not really at all theme, Aussies call the first course the entree, and what Americans refer to as the entree, they call the mains. Also, Chilled oysters are served all over Sydney for about 1/2 the price of their Californian cousins. Loving shellfish, I took advantage of this on two occasions, once as an entree, once as a mains.
The best meal of the trip, hands down was enjoyed over a 3-hour view of the harbor from Forty One on the forty-second floor of Chiefly Tower in downtown Sydney. We had the 3-course offering, which when the mini intra-courses were included came to a delicious total of 6. The amuse-bouche included an asian soup spoon piled with wakame, salmon tar-tar, and roe. Pre-loaded spoons of ocean delight, can you get more lazily decadent? We also managed to drink A$50 worth of water. We had come from a day on the beach and were thirsty, the service just kept pouring... in hindsight, we should have ordered another bottle of wine for the same money and opted to re-hydrate with water at a more reasonable price after we left. Oh well.
The filet mignon was fabulous, as were my oysters, served with a martini-sorbet shot topped with the freshest pop-in-your mouth caviar I've had since 1999 (ahh, the bubble years). We finished with the cheese plate for two, and we were pleased to see that it contained several Australian offerings--the Victorian double-cream brie was as good as any french equivalent I've ever had, and both times we had Australian goat cheese, it was fabulous. Add a good Yarra Valley Pinot Noir and fireworks (someone hired a private fireworks display over the harbor, apparently they do that...) and it was well worth the ridiculous price (which would have been at least 35%-40% more in California).
Asian food, interestingly, was almost half the price of the equivalent quality food in California. No doubt this is partially because we stayed in Chinatown and were close to some of the good finds (our hotel had a cheap and FABULOUS malaysian restaurant despite the sparse decour). But, it also probably a combination of the proximity to Asia and the lack of popularity with non-asian clientele. E and I had one of the best Sushi meals we've ever had in a small restaurant where every person there besides us was either a Japanese tourist or of easily recognizable Japanese descent (most appeared to be hosting relatives for the New Year). The fish was as fresh as it comes and the entire meal including wine and sake cost less than half of what we would pay at home. Street sushi bars are much more popular than sit-down sushi restaurants, and many offered A$2.50 plates. This is raw fish people! That's too cheap.
Table Wine.
Good cheap wine is of slightly higher quality than the average Californian bottle of comparable price. The price differential between the two is low enough that I suspect a slight change in currency values and the inverse comment was/would be true. If a bottle is less than A$15 it invariable comes with a screw-top, which is quite helpful to travelers taking wine on picnics or opening a bottle for a glass but wishing to store the rest for later. The Hunter Valley is the only wine region close to Sydney (2-3 hours away with traffic). To be honest, we had much better wine from the bottle shop than from any of the wineries we visited in Hunter Valley. When looking at a wine region map, the 12 well-known regions are clustered around Adelaide and Melbourne. Next trip, we'll be heading there. In particular, this trip, we had a few great Yarra Valley and Mornington Peninsula Pinot Noirs, and McClaren Vale Shirazes (Shirazs? Whatever, Syrahs.)
Oaked Wines.
I learned that in Australia and New Zealand, wood chips and/or sawdust from used barrels or oakshavings from the barrel making process are often dunked in the must to impart oak flavor. I'd never heard of this process before and was amused to find that they refer to it as "teabagging." Yet another important cultural difference. Kiwis, Aussies, be careful when using this term in the US.
Botrytis.
I'd heard somewhere that there was a sweet wine made from moldy grapes. Noble rot, it's called. Mmmmm, sounds delicious. Just like toe jam from stomping the grapes. I tasted quite a bit of Semillon Botrytis in Hunter Valley, the oldest wine region in the Country. The "stickies" were definitely some of the better wines made in this region: sweet, fruity, and well... too sweet and fruity for me at 11 AM. But I could see how they could be enjoyed. Mainly by people who love dessert, that is, people not like me. But at least they weren't horrible like many of the other wines we tasted. In fairness, we only visited 3 wineries and had another winery's Shiraz with lunch (which wasn't bad with food, but definitely was not great). So maybe the other 136 wineries in the region produce innovative, delicious, and wonderful wines. But, Judging by the quality of what people were willing to pour (dirty, sedimenty, oxidated-to-the-point of vinegar "shiraz" at one establishment) and the level of "education" at the tasting rooms, I just think this region still has a ways to come before it catches up with the younger regions to the West. But, it taught me about Botrytis, which is responsible for Sauternes, and "teabagging" which is good for a laugh.
Overall, the food and wine were excellent.
Kangaroo.
Turns out, them's good eats. I know, I was shocked too. I ordered it at one restaurant on a whim. I figured, since Kangaroos are the Australian version of our racoon, it would probably be gamey, stringy, and fairly disgusting. But, instead, it was a very pleasant meat, served rare, with a taste reminiscent of duck (an oddly low fat duck) and the consistency of rare filet of beef.
Other Food.
Anything and everything you want, except there's not a single decent Mexican food place in the whole country. There's a serious opportunity there. Someone. Go. Do it. Burritos, Tacos and Margaritas belong on those beaches!
Like California, there's a strong commitment to good food and large immigrant communities from almost every well-known food nation to offer their expertise. In continuation of that pseudo-California, but ha-ha, not really at all theme, Aussies call the first course the entree, and what Americans refer to as the entree, they call the mains. Also, Chilled oysters are served all over Sydney for about 1/2 the price of their Californian cousins. Loving shellfish, I took advantage of this on two occasions, once as an entree, once as a mains.
The best meal of the trip, hands down was enjoyed over a 3-hour view of the harbor from Forty One on the forty-second floor of Chiefly Tower in downtown Sydney. We had the 3-course offering, which when the mini intra-courses were included came to a delicious total of 6. The amuse-bouche included an asian soup spoon piled with wakame, salmon tar-tar, and roe. Pre-loaded spoons of ocean delight, can you get more lazily decadent? We also managed to drink A$50 worth of water. We had come from a day on the beach and were thirsty, the service just kept pouring... in hindsight, we should have ordered another bottle of wine for the same money and opted to re-hydrate with water at a more reasonable price after we left. Oh well.
The filet mignon was fabulous, as were my oysters, served with a martini-sorbet shot topped with the freshest pop-in-your mouth caviar I've had since 1999 (ahh, the bubble years). We finished with the cheese plate for two, and we were pleased to see that it contained several Australian offerings--the Victorian double-cream brie was as good as any french equivalent I've ever had, and both times we had Australian goat cheese, it was fabulous. Add a good Yarra Valley Pinot Noir and fireworks (someone hired a private fireworks display over the harbor, apparently they do that...) and it was well worth the ridiculous price (which would have been at least 35%-40% more in California).
Asian food, interestingly, was almost half the price of the equivalent quality food in California. No doubt this is partially because we stayed in Chinatown and were close to some of the good finds (our hotel had a cheap and FABULOUS malaysian restaurant despite the sparse decour). But, it also probably a combination of the proximity to Asia and the lack of popularity with non-asian clientele. E and I had one of the best Sushi meals we've ever had in a small restaurant where every person there besides us was either a Japanese tourist or of easily recognizable Japanese descent (most appeared to be hosting relatives for the New Year). The fish was as fresh as it comes and the entire meal including wine and sake cost less than half of what we would pay at home. Street sushi bars are much more popular than sit-down sushi restaurants, and many offered A$2.50 plates. This is raw fish people! That's too cheap.
Table Wine.
Good cheap wine is of slightly higher quality than the average Californian bottle of comparable price. The price differential between the two is low enough that I suspect a slight change in currency values and the inverse comment was/would be true. If a bottle is less than A$15 it invariable comes with a screw-top, which is quite helpful to travelers taking wine on picnics or opening a bottle for a glass but wishing to store the rest for later. The Hunter Valley is the only wine region close to Sydney (2-3 hours away with traffic). To be honest, we had much better wine from the bottle shop than from any of the wineries we visited in Hunter Valley. When looking at a wine region map, the 12 well-known regions are clustered around Adelaide and Melbourne. Next trip, we'll be heading there. In particular, this trip, we had a few great Yarra Valley and Mornington Peninsula Pinot Noirs, and McClaren Vale Shirazes (Shirazs? Whatever, Syrahs.)
Oaked Wines.
I learned that in Australia and New Zealand, wood chips and/or sawdust from used barrels or oakshavings from the barrel making process are often dunked in the must to impart oak flavor. I'd never heard of this process before and was amused to find that they refer to it as "teabagging." Yet another important cultural difference. Kiwis, Aussies, be careful when using this term in the US.
Botrytis.
I'd heard somewhere that there was a sweet wine made from moldy grapes. Noble rot, it's called. Mmmmm, sounds delicious. Just like toe jam from stomping the grapes. I tasted quite a bit of Semillon Botrytis in Hunter Valley, the oldest wine region in the Country. The "stickies" were definitely some of the better wines made in this region: sweet, fruity, and well... too sweet and fruity for me at 11 AM. But I could see how they could be enjoyed. Mainly by people who love dessert, that is, people not like me. But at least they weren't horrible like many of the other wines we tasted. In fairness, we only visited 3 wineries and had another winery's Shiraz with lunch (which wasn't bad with food, but definitely was not great). So maybe the other 136 wineries in the region produce innovative, delicious, and wonderful wines. But, Judging by the quality of what people were willing to pour (dirty, sedimenty, oxidated-to-the-point of vinegar "shiraz" at one establishment) and the level of "education" at the tasting rooms, I just think this region still has a ways to come before it catches up with the younger regions to the West. But, it taught me about Botrytis, which is responsible for Sauternes, and "teabagging" which is good for a laugh.
Overall, the food and wine were excellent.
October 9, 2004
Grape Things
I finally was able to enjoy half of a Friday (my non-class day). So, I went to the wine store and picked up some 2003 Cotes-du-Rhone, 2001/2002 Bordeaux, and several other economically priced oddities that found their way into my basket.
The best discovery? Ciardella Vineyards 2000 Santa Cruz Mountains Pinot Noir. At $5.99, I took a chance and bought 3 bottles. Last night, E & I had one and I'm about to go back and buy the rest of their supply. Apparently, Thunder Mountain used to use grapes from the Ciardella Vineyards. For whatever reason, they don't anymore.
My guess is that the Ciardella family decided to make their own Pinot. Light, true to the Santa Cruz Mountain Pinot (less earth, medium fruit, not too acidic), and delicious, I'd say they did a decent job. But, given that the Thunder Mountain pinots were selling for $24 in 1999, it seems that the Ciardella family didn't market their product effectively. I wouldn't pay $24 for this wine, but I'm cheap. I will however pay $5.99--in fact, this may be the highest quality $6 wine I've had outside of Europe.
Woo Hoo for grape-growing families that strike out on their own.
I finally was able to enjoy half of a Friday (my non-class day). So, I went to the wine store and picked up some 2003 Cotes-du-Rhone, 2001/2002 Bordeaux, and several other economically priced oddities that found their way into my basket.
The best discovery? Ciardella Vineyards 2000 Santa Cruz Mountains Pinot Noir. At $5.99, I took a chance and bought 3 bottles. Last night, E & I had one and I'm about to go back and buy the rest of their supply. Apparently, Thunder Mountain used to use grapes from the Ciardella Vineyards. For whatever reason, they don't anymore.
My guess is that the Ciardella family decided to make their own Pinot. Light, true to the Santa Cruz Mountain Pinot (less earth, medium fruit, not too acidic), and delicious, I'd say they did a decent job. But, given that the Thunder Mountain pinots were selling for $24 in 1999, it seems that the Ciardella family didn't market their product effectively. I wouldn't pay $24 for this wine, but I'm cheap. I will however pay $5.99--in fact, this may be the highest quality $6 wine I've had outside of Europe.
Woo Hoo for grape-growing families that strike out on their own.
August 9, 2004
Wine Notes
Overall, I'm impressed with the Santa Cruz Mountain wineries we visited last weekend. They are closer to home than our other regular wine destinations and easily competitive in terms of quality (many of the grapes are brought in from the regions we like anyways).
The Ridge Montebello tasting room was disappointing after our last experience at their Lytton Station location. Lytton Station is easily accessed, the staff was friendly, helpful, and poured for us 5 minutes before closing. Monte Bello is annoyingly located at the top of a winding mountain road (they don't call it Ridge/Monte Bello for nothing), they only had 5 bottles open for tasting, and the only selections that were noteable were on the $5 select tasting menu. The service staff wasn't very personable, and they close at 4 PM, on the dot. It's obvious that they want you (and by you, I mean young adults who don't look like they're going to drop several thousand dollars on wine) out even if you just arrived up the long winding mountain. But, it's still Ridge wine, so that makes the trip worth it.
Testarossa has an amazing facility, a great story (they've evolved from electrical engineers who knew nothing about wine production to one of the world's best pinot makers in 10 years), a friendly staff and excellent wine. Unfortunately, their wine is a little outside of the student price range. Justifiably so, with their recent awards.
Thankfully, just when we needed a good value, Picchetti, a gamble, emerged the clear favorite of the trip. It was a new wine for all of us, but everyone really enjoyed at least one of their offerings and we all agreed that it had the best combination of value and ambience (not to mention peacocks!). How can you disagree with a winery that hosts a weekly party with live music for its wine club members? Yup. I joined another wine club...
Overall, I'm impressed with the Santa Cruz Mountain wineries we visited last weekend. They are closer to home than our other regular wine destinations and easily competitive in terms of quality (many of the grapes are brought in from the regions we like anyways).
The Ridge Montebello tasting room was disappointing after our last experience at their Lytton Station location. Lytton Station is easily accessed, the staff was friendly, helpful, and poured for us 5 minutes before closing. Monte Bello is annoyingly located at the top of a winding mountain road (they don't call it Ridge/Monte Bello for nothing), they only had 5 bottles open for tasting, and the only selections that were noteable were on the $5 select tasting menu. The service staff wasn't very personable, and they close at 4 PM, on the dot. It's obvious that they want you (and by you, I mean young adults who don't look like they're going to drop several thousand dollars on wine) out even if you just arrived up the long winding mountain. But, it's still Ridge wine, so that makes the trip worth it.
Testarossa has an amazing facility, a great story (they've evolved from electrical engineers who knew nothing about wine production to one of the world's best pinot makers in 10 years), a friendly staff and excellent wine. Unfortunately, their wine is a little outside of the student price range. Justifiably so, with their recent awards.
Thankfully, just when we needed a good value, Picchetti, a gamble, emerged the clear favorite of the trip. It was a new wine for all of us, but everyone really enjoyed at least one of their offerings and we all agreed that it had the best combination of value and ambience (not to mention peacocks!). How can you disagree with a winery that hosts a weekly party with live music for its wine club members? Yup. I joined another wine club...
May 31, 2004
Spoiled Rotten
Well, I did finally finish my academic "please-oh-please-take-me" journal write-on. I took it to the post office and sent it certified mail as we left town for a weekend of bliss. The end of school-related work took a while to be real. In the car, I kept asking myself, what do I have to do next? Then I'd smile and think, "nothing."
E's parents were in town, so the four of us drove south on the 101 from Silicon Valley until we reached Soledad, where we went on a tour with the winemaker at Paraiso Vineyards. Paradise. Literally. Winds, Mountains, Grapes. Some of the highest quality-to-price pinot noirs being made in California today. What more could I want to start my vacation?
After a leisurely lunch and the purchase of too much wine, we drove south to our eventual destination, the sleepy fishing town of Morro Bay. Our hotel had breathtaking views, a fabulous restaurant, and a bird-filled estuary next door (a huge blue heron watched us without moving while we laughed at the cacophony of a bird-watcher's dream). The original plans had called for a more popular beach destination like Santa Barbara or Pismo Beach, but we all agreed that we made the right choice with a less tourist-filled destination.
The weekend just kept getting better, and now, I feel on top of the world thanks to several wonderful discoveries and experiences:
1. Portable Hot Tub Technology. Enough Said.
2. Long gorgeous drives in the country to reach and taste wines in the Santa Ynez Valley, Paso Robles Wine Country, and San Luis Obispo Wine Country.
3. Going to Hearst Castle for the first time.
4. Going to the Madonna Inn for the millionth time with my grandparents. (If you've never been, it's an experience not to be missed.)
5. Dinner at Windows on the Water. Two nights in a row. It was that great. The view of sunset over morro rock brings a silence to the restaurant--it's too beautiful to describe. The bouillabaise was the best I've ever had (besides my mother's), and the cilantro-grilled shrimp were perfectly spiced with black pepper. The wine list is extensive and full of local selections (which tend to be much more reasonably priced than their more well-known Napa and Sonoma cousins). And dessert? Well, I'm not much of a dessert person, but the lemon mouse inspired me to try one this summer.
Now, I'm home, relaxed, with memories of ocean views, wine geeking, and my belly full of excellent food. I joined one of the wine clubs of the wineries we visited (thankfully, one of my previous memberships has expired) and have plans to join one more when I get around to it.
It was the perfect gluttonous celebration of the great things in life: Family. Food. Relaxation. Sleep. Wine. Mountains. Ocean. Conversation to tie it all together.
Now, finally, I'm ready to go back to being a working stiff. Has it really only been 9 months?
Here's to hoping I can button at least one pair of my work pants after the weekend of stuffing myself silly.
Well, I did finally finish my academic "please-oh-please-take-me" journal write-on. I took it to the post office and sent it certified mail as we left town for a weekend of bliss. The end of school-related work took a while to be real. In the car, I kept asking myself, what do I have to do next? Then I'd smile and think, "nothing."
E's parents were in town, so the four of us drove south on the 101 from Silicon Valley until we reached Soledad, where we went on a tour with the winemaker at Paraiso Vineyards. Paradise. Literally. Winds, Mountains, Grapes. Some of the highest quality-to-price pinot noirs being made in California today. What more could I want to start my vacation?
After a leisurely lunch and the purchase of too much wine, we drove south to our eventual destination, the sleepy fishing town of Morro Bay. Our hotel had breathtaking views, a fabulous restaurant, and a bird-filled estuary next door (a huge blue heron watched us without moving while we laughed at the cacophony of a bird-watcher's dream). The original plans had called for a more popular beach destination like Santa Barbara or Pismo Beach, but we all agreed that we made the right choice with a less tourist-filled destination.
The weekend just kept getting better, and now, I feel on top of the world thanks to several wonderful discoveries and experiences:
1. Portable Hot Tub Technology. Enough Said.
2. Long gorgeous drives in the country to reach and taste wines in the Santa Ynez Valley, Paso Robles Wine Country, and San Luis Obispo Wine Country.
3. Going to Hearst Castle for the first time.
4. Going to the Madonna Inn for the millionth time with my grandparents. (If you've never been, it's an experience not to be missed.)
5. Dinner at Windows on the Water. Two nights in a row. It was that great. The view of sunset over morro rock brings a silence to the restaurant--it's too beautiful to describe. The bouillabaise was the best I've ever had (besides my mother's), and the cilantro-grilled shrimp were perfectly spiced with black pepper. The wine list is extensive and full of local selections (which tend to be much more reasonably priced than their more well-known Napa and Sonoma cousins). And dessert? Well, I'm not much of a dessert person, but the lemon mouse inspired me to try one this summer.
Now, I'm home, relaxed, with memories of ocean views, wine geeking, and my belly full of excellent food. I joined one of the wine clubs of the wineries we visited (thankfully, one of my previous memberships has expired) and have plans to join one more when I get around to it.
It was the perfect gluttonous celebration of the great things in life: Family. Food. Relaxation. Sleep. Wine. Mountains. Ocean. Conversation to tie it all together.
Now, finally, I'm ready to go back to being a working stiff. Has it really only been 9 months?
Here's to hoping I can button at least one pair of my work pants after the weekend of stuffing myself silly.
January 17, 2004
The Beginning of the Semester
Finals stole my life for almost 4 weeks. Then the holidays kept me captive, and then Egypt. But now, I'm in the beginning of the semester. The time of year when 15 hours of class and keeping up on the reading leaves gobs of free time to enjoy.
So in my spare time, I've been blissfully doing normal stuff. Cheerfully, I filled my car with gasoline at my regular station. Grinning, I picked up and dropped off stuff at my dry cleaners. E and I sleep in the same bed, talk about nothing, watch the Simpsons, and have already put in an appearance our favorite pho joint (after a record breaking absence of 2 full months!).
Ecstatically, I made a grocery list and went food and wine shopping. With my spoils, I made bolognese sauce from scratch and froze 2/3 of it for future use.
With the remaining 1/3 of the bolognese sauce, I made lasagna. I took a risk and tried the newfangled barilla no boil lasagna noodles. The noodles worked fairly well. Next time I use them, I'll go heavier on the sauce, since it appears that they soak up more liquid than boiled noodles (in hindsight, this seems fairly obvious...). Unfortunately, the last lasagna I made, I made the noodles from scratch and the memory of that lasagna put this lasagna to shame. But, we still had company over for lasagna, wine, and conversation that night and we've been living off of lasagna leftovers.
And last night, a group of E's friends and their significant others went out to celebrate birthdays, weddings, etc. Eleven of us sat around a table at Maggiano's and socialized while eating family style. I got to order the wine, because people are kind and like to indulge me. What did I do? Giddily, I ordered a magnum of Querceto Chianti Classico.
Magnums are cool. 12 glasses of wine in one bottle. It's even better when they are reasonable priced and you get both a huge cool-looking bottle at the table as well as decent dinner wine at $4.50 a glass. My selection was a hit and we ordered a second magnum to go with the second course.
So, other than this crazy waking up early thing I've got going on, my life is back to normal with chores, friends, activities, and food. I'm happy.
Finals stole my life for almost 4 weeks. Then the holidays kept me captive, and then Egypt. But now, I'm in the beginning of the semester. The time of year when 15 hours of class and keeping up on the reading leaves gobs of free time to enjoy.
So in my spare time, I've been blissfully doing normal stuff. Cheerfully, I filled my car with gasoline at my regular station. Grinning, I picked up and dropped off stuff at my dry cleaners. E and I sleep in the same bed, talk about nothing, watch the Simpsons, and have already put in an appearance our favorite pho joint (after a record breaking absence of 2 full months!).
Ecstatically, I made a grocery list and went food and wine shopping. With my spoils, I made bolognese sauce from scratch and froze 2/3 of it for future use.
With the remaining 1/3 of the bolognese sauce, I made lasagna. I took a risk and tried the newfangled barilla no boil lasagna noodles. The noodles worked fairly well. Next time I use them, I'll go heavier on the sauce, since it appears that they soak up more liquid than boiled noodles (in hindsight, this seems fairly obvious...). Unfortunately, the last lasagna I made, I made the noodles from scratch and the memory of that lasagna put this lasagna to shame. But, we still had company over for lasagna, wine, and conversation that night and we've been living off of lasagna leftovers.
And last night, a group of E's friends and their significant others went out to celebrate birthdays, weddings, etc. Eleven of us sat around a table at Maggiano's and socialized while eating family style. I got to order the wine, because people are kind and like to indulge me. What did I do? Giddily, I ordered a magnum of Querceto Chianti Classico.
Magnums are cool. 12 glasses of wine in one bottle. It's even better when they are reasonable priced and you get both a huge cool-looking bottle at the table as well as decent dinner wine at $4.50 a glass. My selection was a hit and we ordered a second magnum to go with the second course.
So, other than this crazy waking up early thing I've got going on, my life is back to normal with chores, friends, activities, and food. I'm happy.
December 18, 2003
Ahhhhh....
And I'm done. E and I just returned from a nice long Italian dinner at our favorite local joint. We talked about nothing and everything, for the first time in several weeks. Along with Pasto Ceppo and Pasta Norma, we sipped down a bottle of Guiseppe's recommendation: Vigorello. Wow--the perfect way to celebrate the end of the semester. It's light, full bright red fruits, and with the perfect hint of oak, although it was a little heavy on the sediment, if that bothers you. It's my new second favorite Super Tuscan, after Tignanello, which will always claim number one because of the memories from the night in San Gimignano when I first had it.
As for the exam, it's over. The whole semester is over, in fact. One-sixth down. Amazing.
The long story is that H and I crammed as much as we could in our under-prepared heads and compiled as many helpful documents as we could for the open book exam. We managed to cover it all, but definitely not at the level we'd covered everything else. We were scared, actually.
But, I assume we owe a huge Thankyou to the vibes sent my way from Sua Sponte. Yesterday, when it became ridiculously apparent that H and I were not going to be completely prepared for our exam, we had to make a choice. We each named what we thought the essay portion would cover, and we covered those portions extensively. Apparently, someone was listening. It was almost scary how dead-on my guess had been... I called it down to the sub-sub-rule on the first issue and the general topic of the follow up question was exactly what I suspected. A Big Huge Thanks is all I have to say.
So, the next time I have to think about law school is when I return from my two-week vacation in Egypt. For now, it's all fun, family, holidays, gift shopping, bowl games, and getting back into the swing of being a normal human.
And I'm done. E and I just returned from a nice long Italian dinner at our favorite local joint. We talked about nothing and everything, for the first time in several weeks. Along with Pasto Ceppo and Pasta Norma, we sipped down a bottle of Guiseppe's recommendation: Vigorello. Wow--the perfect way to celebrate the end of the semester. It's light, full bright red fruits, and with the perfect hint of oak, although it was a little heavy on the sediment, if that bothers you. It's my new second favorite Super Tuscan, after Tignanello, which will always claim number one because of the memories from the night in San Gimignano when I first had it.
As for the exam, it's over. The whole semester is over, in fact. One-sixth down. Amazing.
The long story is that H and I crammed as much as we could in our under-prepared heads and compiled as many helpful documents as we could for the open book exam. We managed to cover it all, but definitely not at the level we'd covered everything else. We were scared, actually.
But, I assume we owe a huge Thankyou to the vibes sent my way from Sua Sponte. Yesterday, when it became ridiculously apparent that H and I were not going to be completely prepared for our exam, we had to make a choice. We each named what we thought the essay portion would cover, and we covered those portions extensively. Apparently, someone was listening. It was almost scary how dead-on my guess had been... I called it down to the sub-sub-rule on the first issue and the general topic of the follow up question was exactly what I suspected. A Big Huge Thanks is all I have to say.
So, the next time I have to think about law school is when I return from my two-week vacation in Egypt. For now, it's all fun, family, holidays, gift shopping, bowl games, and getting back into the swing of being a normal human.
September 13, 2003
Wonderful Wine
I love when I go to a restaurant with a reasonably priced wine list. It's even better when I try something cheap I've never heard of and it's awesome. That's the kind of thing that'll get me back to a restaurant every time. Sommelliers take note.
This week's happiness:
A light (but not watery) pinot from the elusive silver cove vineyards. Balanced fruit, hints of minerals on the nose, and only $28 at the restaurant. Just as good as its neighboring carneros pinots that go for $30-$50 at the vineyard and who knows what in restaurants. Given that restaurants have a 100-300% markup, I'm going to call and see if I can get myself a case...
An oaky zinfandel from Buehler Vineyards. Not a ridiculous cup full of jammy fruit, not overly tanniny, surprisingly sophisticated for a zin, and only $26 at the restaurant. I'm interested in trying the estate reserve zin, if the standard stuff is this good.
I hate wine tasting in the Napa Valley--crowded, traffic, high ratio of pretentious idiots to people who actually love wine, tasting fees at most vineyards (which are often staffed by unhelpful and snotty staff). But, lately I've been thinking that I should go during the week some time to avoid the crowds. That would solve most of my problems with the place. Silver Cove and Buehler are excellent reasons to go. Particularly since silver cove is impossible to find online (chances are, if I can taste there, it'll be me and the owner in a garage with the vats) and Buehler makes a white zin. How can I not wine taste at a napa winery that isn't scared to be labeled white trash?
I love when I go to a restaurant with a reasonably priced wine list. It's even better when I try something cheap I've never heard of and it's awesome. That's the kind of thing that'll get me back to a restaurant every time. Sommelliers take note.
This week's happiness:
A light (but not watery) pinot from the elusive silver cove vineyards. Balanced fruit, hints of minerals on the nose, and only $28 at the restaurant. Just as good as its neighboring carneros pinots that go for $30-$50 at the vineyard and who knows what in restaurants. Given that restaurants have a 100-300% markup, I'm going to call and see if I can get myself a case...
An oaky zinfandel from Buehler Vineyards. Not a ridiculous cup full of jammy fruit, not overly tanniny, surprisingly sophisticated for a zin, and only $26 at the restaurant. I'm interested in trying the estate reserve zin, if the standard stuff is this good.
I hate wine tasting in the Napa Valley--crowded, traffic, high ratio of pretentious idiots to people who actually love wine, tasting fees at most vineyards (which are often staffed by unhelpful and snotty staff). But, lately I've been thinking that I should go during the week some time to avoid the crowds. That would solve most of my problems with the place. Silver Cove and Buehler are excellent reasons to go. Particularly since silver cove is impossible to find online (chances are, if I can taste there, it'll be me and the owner in a garage with the vats) and Buehler makes a white zin. How can I not wine taste at a napa winery that isn't scared to be labeled white trash?
August 11, 2003
Ahhh...
The vacation consisted of 7 wineries and 2 days of nothing but good food, wine, gorgeous countryside and conversation with friends. I'm very relaxed.
If you ever happen to be looking for a restaurant in downtown Paso Robles (Say, for example, if you are taking the 101 from the San Francisco Bay Area to Santa Barbara), YOU MUST GO TO ALLORO. The food was superb. I decided not to have risotto ai frutti di mare (my standby) in favor of gnocchi piemontese, which was divine in two ways: one, the gnocchi was perfectly formed and consistently light; two, the sauce was a drool-inspiring balanced combination of strong mushrooms, tomatoes, cream, and several herbs. The risotto, ordered by one of my friends, came in a gargantuan dish, and it was just as good if not better than my gnocchi, both in al dente consistency and in balance of fresh seafood/shelfish with the lighter flavors of tomato, wine, and herbs. The two other diners in our party had homemade spinach ravioli and they raved as much as the rest of us. Tiramisu was excellent, as was the after diner coffee.
The food was amazing, but more importantly, this restaurant that we chose by rock-scissors-paper turned out to have a wine list that has received the "one of the best wine lists in the world" award from The Wine Spectator. Mind you, a good wine list in my estimation includes values--good wine that costs very little and is only appreciated by people who happen to be adventurous enough to try it despite its lack of prestige and popularity. So the best part about Alloro according to me? They had enough variety and quality on their wine list that I was able to order a bright and cheery Valpolicella from Veneto and a clean, fruity white Fruili (pinot grigio) for a total of $40. Two bottles of excellent wine, in California, at a nice restaurant, for under $40? I was in Heaven. Fruili, in particular is wine that I love to buy in Italy for EU 8-10. Several times, I have asked, where could find this value wine in the US. Always, the response was a laugh, and "Beviamo tutti qui, in Italia." (We drink it all here, in Italy) Apparently, a few bottles make it to Alloro. Go try some.
In blogland, blogger gave the archives back, so I guess I won't migrate to MT this week. I also managed to get comments up on the site, via Haloscan. Very easy instructions and script generator. If you're looking for a friendly comments host, I recommend 'em. If you're solvent, I recommend donating.
This week promises to be full of sleeping in, catching up with friends before I disappear into the black hole of school, working out, taking care of chores, more good food, drinking some of the wine from the trip, and, of course, more relaxing. Monday, my new life begins.
The vacation consisted of 7 wineries and 2 days of nothing but good food, wine, gorgeous countryside and conversation with friends. I'm very relaxed.
If you ever happen to be looking for a restaurant in downtown Paso Robles (Say, for example, if you are taking the 101 from the San Francisco Bay Area to Santa Barbara), YOU MUST GO TO ALLORO. The food was superb. I decided not to have risotto ai frutti di mare (my standby) in favor of gnocchi piemontese, which was divine in two ways: one, the gnocchi was perfectly formed and consistently light; two, the sauce was a drool-inspiring balanced combination of strong mushrooms, tomatoes, cream, and several herbs. The risotto, ordered by one of my friends, came in a gargantuan dish, and it was just as good if not better than my gnocchi, both in al dente consistency and in balance of fresh seafood/shelfish with the lighter flavors of tomato, wine, and herbs. The two other diners in our party had homemade spinach ravioli and they raved as much as the rest of us. Tiramisu was excellent, as was the after diner coffee.
The food was amazing, but more importantly, this restaurant that we chose by rock-scissors-paper turned out to have a wine list that has received the "one of the best wine lists in the world" award from The Wine Spectator. Mind you, a good wine list in my estimation includes values--good wine that costs very little and is only appreciated by people who happen to be adventurous enough to try it despite its lack of prestige and popularity. So the best part about Alloro according to me? They had enough variety and quality on their wine list that I was able to order a bright and cheery Valpolicella from Veneto and a clean, fruity white Fruili (pinot grigio) for a total of $40. Two bottles of excellent wine, in California, at a nice restaurant, for under $40? I was in Heaven. Fruili, in particular is wine that I love to buy in Italy for EU 8-10. Several times, I have asked, where could find this value wine in the US. Always, the response was a laugh, and "Beviamo tutti qui, in Italia." (We drink it all here, in Italy) Apparently, a few bottles make it to Alloro. Go try some.
In blogland, blogger gave the archives back, so I guess I won't migrate to MT this week. I also managed to get comments up on the site, via Haloscan. Very easy instructions and script generator. If you're looking for a friendly comments host, I recommend 'em. If you're solvent, I recommend donating.
This week promises to be full of sleeping in, catching up with friends before I disappear into the black hole of school, working out, taking care of chores, more good food, drinking some of the wine from the trip, and, of course, more relaxing. Monday, my new life begins.
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