Sandy, the fireworks are hailin' over Little Eden tonight

Loma Prieta Winery

She Said:

G and I hit this winery on a perfect blue sky day.  The views of the Santa Cruz mountains are amazing and worth the windy drive.  Unfortunately, we were not able to snag a seat outside or play bocci ball because of the weekend crowd (thumbs down).  Of the wines I tasted the port was my only favorite. Most ports are too sweet for my taste buds but this port hit the spot.  The flavor reminded me of oozing cherry cordial insides.  Our jovial pourer won his way in to my good graces by pairing each wine with hershey's chocolate, salami, and dark chocolate.  Although most of the wines I tasted fell flat I will definitely go back.  I am a sucker for a good view what can I say.

G Said:
I judge a winery based on the following criteria:

1.  Quality product.  Not just one or two that you really like, but the whole line-up.  Anyone can make generic wine...take in all your fruit, process it all in the exact same fashion, and blend accordingly.  Show me individual, lot-specific attention that highlightsdifferences and unique qualities.  With that in mind...
2.  A quality second-label or lower wine.  It's easy to make a $100 bottle--buy well-farmed grapes and try not to mess it up.  But if a winemaker can take lower-level material and turn that into something head-turning...that takes real talent.
3.  Knowledge of the staff.  Having a winemaker or someone associated with production (for me) is always best, because I ask a ton of geeky questions and will pick a brian or two.  But a knowledgeable tasting room attendant is worth his or her weight in GOLD.  Hear that, wine industry?  Train your staff and hold them to a standard.  And quiz them....for the love of God, quiz them often.  And have them taste around to get a feel for the competition and identify how their wine fills a market niche.  There are wineries who are good about it (and it shows!), and I realize that not every visitor is going to grill the pourer; however, upping the level of general knowledge can only serve to benefit.
4.  Vision.  How does the winery see themselves within the business, and how do they plan to move forward?  What is their winemaking philosophy?  Do they cut corners with equipment?  Where do they see themselves in 5 years?  20 years?  The answers usually separate those in the business who are there to show off wealth and those who really care.
5.  Price.  Does price = elitism?  Yes and no.  The ultimate question is "Is the wine worth it to you?"

Notice how I didn't say anything about grounds or fountains marble walkways or a gift shop.  I could honestly care less.  Not that I don't appreciate a good view or a dog or romantic scenery (yeah, I said it.  Bring on the comments), but it doesn't influence my opinions on the wine.  I'm not fooled by the showpiece...so to all those with $$ to display...your efforts are wasted on me.

Loma Prieta?  To me, it's a showpiece.  They went for the whole "Tuscan-villa" design, and they nailed it.  It looks great--I don't want to take anything away.  They're also at the highest elevation in the Santa Cruz Mountains appellation, so on a clear day you're able to see the ocean from the top of the vineyard.  Hell, I dig a good view.  The wine, though?  Bland and uninspired.  The Viognier (a varietal that I love) left too much to be desired...aromatically-challenged and criminally thin.  Cab and Merlot were nothing to write home about; however, they did do a Pinotage (only 105 tons crushed in the state of California in 2010--but that's up from 82 in 2009).  It was decent...a little overripe, but decent.  I recommend them for an afternoon--find a day with your friends and head up there to spend some time.  But if you're looking for ground-breaking wine, try this instead.

Later, kids.

                                  

Runaway train never going back...

G and She said: We kidnapped this "victim" who will soon be Taiwan-bound for an adventure. We texted her at 8 inquiring what she was doing for the day. When she said she was free we got an idea

and drove her to SLO...

First stop Gus's sandwiches!

Then there was a mini sketchy stop at Avila Farm. G liked the dwarf ponies but She was apparently very frightened and grossed out by these creatures.

Next was Avila Beach bum time.

The "victim" brought ouzo!!!

Then we headed to the Spyglass Inn Restaurant for a Mai Tai

And Firestone beer and a Pina Colada!

And there were oysters, calamari, and avocado egg rolls.

Then there was sex on the beach enjoyment. We just wanted to sit and take the ocean view in.

And once the drinks had settled the eclectic Madonna Inn was a must see. What does pink throwing up look like? The Madonna Inn.

At this point we were pretty tuckered. G was "mother tuckered." But we couldn't pass up some

Toffee Crunch Cake. Which was instant sugar high and impossible to stop eating.

We danced to such hits as Mac The Knife and the Pink Panther soundtrack. Kari had an admirer Jessie who she danced with a couple times. He was a "professional dancer."

G said She said tip: Kidnap a dear friend and hit the road. Take an adventure and make some
memories.

What a life it would be/If you could come to mine for tea/I'll pick you up at half past three/We'll have lasagne

She said: 

The first time I laid eyes on Food Network with chef Michael Chiarello of the show “Easy Entertaining with Michael Chiarello”, I was smitten.  His dark eyes, warm smile, and Italian charm would make any female fan melt.  I DVR his show just so that when I come home from a long day of work, plop on the couch, turn on the tv, he is there welcoming me in to his Napa kitchen.   This weekend I did not have to resort to Michael Chiarello DVR couch surfing, instead G and I dined at his restraunt, Bottega, in Napa Valley.  

Unfortunately, we did not have reservations, but I spotted a couple at the bar signing their bill and knew this was not the time to be shy or casual.  I walked right up, made small talk with the wife, asked her to give me a signal when they were going to get out of their seats, so we could swoop in.  “Great idea”, she said, but why not just take them now?  G and I were bellied up to the bar in 5 minutes flat.   Upon sitting, both G and I had instant restaurant ADD.  Our eyes darted back and forth while bar tenders poured $45 a glass tequila, waiters and waitresses hustled about with steaming platters of culinary eye candy, and the thought that was on both of our minds: Is Chiarello in our midst?  G ordered us a bottle of wine and like ritalin it mellowed us food geeks out some.  The menu deliberation begins.  G and I have a very simple unspoken rule about ordering as a couple: Never order the same thing.  This way you get to taste two very different dishes from the menu and really feel like you had a well rounded dining experience.  My pick was the house made rigatoni, tomato braised Sonoma rabbit sugo, caramelized mushrooms, with house- made ricotta.    The rigatoni was perfectly al denti and held up next to the rich sauce.  The ricotta cheese on top was not overpowering, and when mixed in gave the sweet caramelized mushrooms a nice softness.  This was my first experience with rabbit and I was pleasantly surprised at the tenderness. The consistency reminded me a lot of duck.   

Meanwhile, the Chiarello adventure loomed big in my mind. I left my meal a couple of times to “use the restroom” which really meant poke around and see where Chiarello may be.  There he was with his back to me on the food line,  plating.  I stopped in my tracks, and as if in slow motion, saw him wipe the rim of a plate and lick his fingers.  Some may say this was a rabbit rigatoni induced mirage, but here’s hoping he did the same exact thing before my plate was served.  By the end of the night it looked like he was not going to come out to the bar area and socialize.  When all my hope was about gone, I spotted him out of the corner of my eye talking with the hostess.  I flew out of my seat.  We made eye contact, and my desperateness was quite evident, “One minute, sweetheart, and I will be right with you.”  I stuttered out something like, “I adore you.  Will you come take a picture with me?”  I lead him through the bar, and he got bombarded.  I lost him to two woman and an iphone. Eventually he made his way over, and the three of us posed.  Somehow my camera was on timer, so we stood smiling while the camera just flashed.  After multiple takes, Michael was good natured, and I was mortified.  In retrospect it, just meant I a longer time in his culinary presence.  Next, he signed a Bottega bar napkin and was on his way.  The night was magical.  Award winning food, great conversation with fellow bar eaters, a night with G, my own personal Italian stud, and an audience with my favorite celebrity chef .

G Said:

I'm quite comfortable with the fact that I've lost my girlfriend forever.  Don't believe me?  Take a look for yourself.  

My exact words to him were, "Chef Chiarello, you're a God.  This is really an honor."  You know how you have those moments when you're totally incapable of intelligent thought/speech?  Yeah, that was one of those...but in retrospect, I probably would have said it again!  Even managed to throw in a, "By the way, big fan of your label."  


For those interested, Chiarello's grapes come from his own land and the wine is made by Thomas Rivers Brown (Schrader, Outpost, Maybach, Rivers-Marie, etc).  Brown is a legend in his own right, and if you get some time, I highly recommend taking a listen to an interview he gave in 2009--he has every right to have a massive ego, and is instead of the most down-to-earth in the business and incredibly soft-spoken.


Chiarello is, in his own way, partly responsible for my position in the wine industry today.  When I was in college and thinking about med school, I had this half-serious plan-B for when my plans didn't work out and, invariably, I would need a new direction for my life.  In my apartment kitchen one night, I decided, should my hopes be crushed, that I would open my own restaurant.  I partnered up with my buddy Jared and we do dinner for our wing of the building and whoever else decided to come by...usually on Tuesdays or something.  I had a decent share of failures, but I was learning and I was happy.  So later on when school started, I was cutting class watching PBS (because that's what the cool kids do when they skip class--don't judge) and Chiarello was on talking about wine.  At the time, the only thing I knew about wine was that I could legally buy it and in my narrow world, Kroger had a good selection (I now know this to be factually incorrect!)  If I was going to pursue my culinary destiny, I thought it would be good to know something about wine.  I bought old outdated copies of Wine Spectator from the Kroger shelves (which they NEVER replenish) and just read.  Just sat and read and absorbed.  Most of the time, I had no idea what the hell I was looking at....one of the first issues I bought was all about Germany.  And when you're clueless with regards to wine, German geography, and have no grasp on the language, you're not going to get very far (I still have difficulty with the labels, but the numerical codes are helpful).  But whatever....I didn't care.  I was too caught up, and couldn't get enough material to read.  You can talk to some of my college friends--I'd bring my magazines to dinner, and to class, and to track meets.  Yeah, that's right.  In between races while my friends took naps, I was nose-deep in an article on why 2002 was a shitty growing season in Italy.  Can you see an obsession growing?


It did.


I never went to med school.  


So if She wants to run away with Chef Chiarello, I really have no issue.  When she first bit into her rabbit, I think I saw her eyes roll back.  I went for the pan-seared gnocchi with English pea fonduta--equally impressive!  Not over-filled (which can be a problem with restaurant gnocchi--more is not always more) and just the right amount of sear.  You know...a touch...a kiss....perfect.  And dessert?  Panna cotta with pineapple gelatini.  I believe She's words were, "I'm not usually a dessert person, but tonight, I'm glad I was."  See?  Believer = made.  


And a lesson of the night...something to experiment with in your own lab on your own time:  you can get almost anyone to open up just by asking their name.  

Have a drink have a drive, go out and see what you can find...

She Said:  

Although G and I did not consult a word of the day calendar on Saturday, it was clear that the word ‘foresight’ was Saturday’s buzz word.  G received an invitation back in March to a day of picnicing,wine tasting,  swimming, and much more at a winery, which I have decided to keep nameless.  This winery is only open a few times a year, and it is so fabulous that it needs to be shrouded in mystery.  I had no idea what to expect.  When we parked the car and walked towards the grounds, my mouth literally dropped when I spied the view.  

How could this exist after that long, windy, dusty drive into nowhere? We set up our picnic by the man- made lake and ate our Oakville Grocery sandwiches (my favorite is the turkey and brie), drank some wine, and watched kids play in the water and wine lovers around us laugh and soak up the sun.  G and I felt like we were at an elite wine summer camp.  The glistening water, redwood tree groves, and cool breeze, was too good to be true.  At 2:00 all the wine camp members gathered at a special spot for the commencement of the tour.  We were led by the late, vineyard owner’s/ creator’s stepson who was a wealth of information.  His stories about his step-father were inspiring and the buzz word “foresight” kept popping into the narration.

Here was a man who started his career in pharmaceutical sales and at 47 decided he wanted a career change so turned to the Napa Valley.  He bought 80 acres of land for as little as $100,000 in 1968.  He was told by many that this was a huge mistake and that the land wasn’t even fit to grow a radish.  His foresight told him to ignore the naysayers.  He smuggled Cabernet Sauvignon vine cuttings from Bordeaux by way of Tijuana.   He had no idea the acres he purchased would have three different types of soil and microclimates that would make for a unique Cab growing experience.  His bottle of Cab was the first California Cabernet to break the $100 a bottle mark.  He focused on Cab and never looked back, taking a huge chance.  In addition,he had a 23 year battle with Parkinsons disease, and didn’t let it get in his way. 

As the stepson unraveled these facts through out the tour, I was mesmerized, and it especially hit home with my current state of job uncertainty.  How does one trust one’s gut instincts, throw out one’s routine life and leap forward, embrace a career change and go for it with total determination?  I struggle daily with caring what others think, and here is a man who heard from the peanut gallery and went the exact opposite direction and was a raging success.   Not only was he a wine visionary, but his vast property is also a foresight-seeker”s haven.  Only a true visionary would see acres of forested land and think let’s build a huge man-made lake, waterfalls, a lagoon, a messy bog turned swimming pool, truly a sanctuary of national park quality.  

The wine was entirely too expensive for young’ns such as us to purchase, but we snagged an empty tasting bottle on the way out for posterity sake.  And as for foresight, I think it is fickle.  Everyone has it, but do they embrace it and throw caution to the wind and just embrace the visionary urge?  Probably not.  I feel especially sad for us 20 somethings, all bright eyed and bushy tailed, fresh out of college with tremendous debt, a failing economy, no jobs, and other such tales of woe. I for one am going to tuck this wine memory in my back pocket, and when foresight knocks, I will answer! 

G Said:

Whenever I find a bottle or a place that I really like (and I know that your tastes are similar to my own), I'm quick to recommend.  However, the name of this particular winery will have to remain nameless for the time being.  That being said, the Google-savvy will probably be able to piece together clues and come up with the location.  If you're serious about your wine and your history, you'll understand that this winery is a Napa institution.  They've been producing since the early 70's  and have maintained their growing and winemaking philosophies to this day.

I've been a fan of these guys since I started in the business.  I was fortunate to have a '94 Volcanic Hill, and was hooked.  I'm up in Napa, well, a lot (and for that, I'm incredibly grateful), and for a guy whose tastes tend to gravitate towards tobacco-y, leather-y, asparagus-y Bordeaux, the wine is the most Medoc-like that I think California is able to produce.  She mentioned French Cab clones, and that is only partly responsible for the flavor profile.  Other factors include rainfall, weather, row orientation, soil type and depth, rootstock, vine age, temperature...to name a few...you get the idea.  So French vine does not necessarily equate to French wine (pay attention, Central Coast Pinot-makers).  

With regards to vine age, I'm a firm believer in the school of thought that older vines yield more complex wines.  After a vine is planted, it will begin giving fruit suitable for wine production after three or four years.  Young vines such as these tend to give a more fruit-forward style; and as they approach, say, 7-10 years of age, their production (call it pounds of fruit per vine) escalates and plateaus.  After 10 years, their productivity dips and will eventually settle on something relatively low.  However, grapes from older vines tend to reflect the characteristics of the site on which their grown.  Hello, complexity!  Their wine had it in spades--even had developing tertiary aromas after only two years!  I'm amazed....name me a so-called top-tier Napa wine that can claim that.  

You're looking at a view from the top of Red Rock Terrace overlooking the Gravelly Meadow Vineyard.  If you take a comparative look at the three sites (Red Rock/Grav/Volcanic Hill), the Red Rock Terrace bottling will become the most approachable first.  While still aromatically tight, the wine is incredibly complex and focused with balanced cassis and juniper, along with some nice smoked pastrami and a well-integrated oak profile.  Delicious.  The Gravelly Meadow (my personal favorite)  is very Graves-like, which I dig.  Lean at first take, but still waters run deep.  Definitely built for the long-haul with a firm tannin profile, but seamlessly balanced with with acid and one hell of a mid-pallet.  The Volcanic Hill had some intense tobacco action and the Diamond Mountain-structure that I love so much.  Keep in mind that everything we tasted were 2009s out of barrel, pre-bottle.  

Definitely hitting up the open house weekend for years to come, and without naming names, thank you to all those who made our visit the incredible day that it was--I've always appreciated your wines, and the through your wine and hospitality, you've made two fans for life.  

Thank you, Al.  Without your foresight and values, Napa would never be what it is today.  

Honey, you are the rock/upon which I stand

She Said: 

I am not one who will pick up the phone and call someone just to chat. I text, I check email and facebook a gazillion times a day, and I put calling people on my “to do” list and then feel tremendous guilt when I don’t make this happen.  I would rather see people in person even if it means driving hours.  Luckily, I have the best of friends and no matter how much time has gone by, when we finally do see each other, it is like no time has passed.  Now this is all well and good except for a long distance relationship.  G and I live an hour and a half away.  We work during the week and see each other on the weekends.  We talk on the phone almost every night.  We are on the phone sometimes an hour and a half to two hours a night.  This boggles my mind.  We are definitely not shmultzy (my terminology for those couples who banter back and forth with pet names and shmoopies, and “no, you hang up. no, you hang up....” not how we roll)  We talk about our days and the people who have shared the day with us, things in the news, stories from our past, our take on shows we are watching, and shoot the breeze.  Sometimes one person yawns, there may be a few long pauses, lots of laughter...and sometimes a nugget of wisdom surfaces from deeper conversations.

6/7/11 Nugget:  Both of us are going through tremendous job transitions.  This is not always pretty, and when you are newer in your couple-hood, you want everything to look positive, fresh, put your best foot forward so to speak.  This facade does not last forever, and thank goodness!  Last night I compared G and I to....I believe my exact words were, “you know that thing with the balls that clicks back and forth.”  Immediately G knew what I was talking about the Newton’s cradle.  This cradle I am sure is surrounded by physics and gravity and stuff frankly my mind would explode in knowing, so I won’t fake it.  All I know is those balls move.  One of the balls hits the others and the one on the opposite side pops up.  And it goes back and forth.  A person stares at it for hours and the movement is calming.  And then without explanation when the ball clicking stops, the ball is pulled back again to see the simple all over.  In a relationship I think when one person is down, the other pulls out of their own ego and life and listens carefully. This is one ball being pulled back maybe two if it is a doozy issue.  Then the listener lets go some thoughts, perspective, questions to start the momentum going.  Hopefully nuggets come out of it, both people feel better, and both start moving back and forth.  The next time the roles may be reversed, but the principle remains the same. 

G Said:

1.  An object in motion remains in motion until an outside force acts upon it.  
2.  Force is the change in momentum per change in time, assuming constant mass.
3.  For every action, there is an equal, but opposite reaction.  


So focus on #3. Clacky-clack balls are a great example.  Pull one back and let it go, and on impact one ball from the opposite end will be expelled.  Now pull two and let them go...two balls from the other side move.  Or, for another example, picture yourself standing on the ground...you can be wherever you want.  For my example, I prefer to be someplace like here or here--but you're more than welcome to have your own.  Anyway, you push against the earth with force exerted downwards (a product of your mass and gravity), while the ground pushes up on you with an equal, but opposite force.  If you're sinking or floating, you crazy kid--how'd you pull that off???  But if you lack super-powers, you're staying where you are.  Easy, right?  Word.  The same principle can be applied to relationships.  


Without going into the gruesome, She and I are both going through different job-transition scenarios.  And to be honest, The Man is in various stages of keeping us down.  An outside force?  Perhaps.  But remove that guy from the equation, because frankly (and this is something that She helped me to realize) the degree to which external forces bother you is entirely mental.  So is it really worth it to be angry at someone or something that cant be changed?  No. So for the last few months, we've each had our share of lousy days (Ed. note:  if anyone says that they only have good days, please check their papers, because that is  a liar-liar-pants-on-fire situation) and She and I have traded off serving as each other's earth. See?  One of us pushes down, and the other one pushes up to keep that person grounded.  It's an awesome system, and I definitely recommend trying it if you can--the only catch is that you need to find the right person.  So be judicious!  People who are happy with themselves, are empathetic, and have a solid core of values work best...and you can work from there!  Not everyone fits the bill.  And it's not like we're negative by any means, but She and I are good at preventing each other from taking on a defeatist-attitude...as long as we both keep trying, eventually something will work in our favor.  While that mentality can be difficult to maintain in a seemingly-endless sea of rejection, the only sure way NOT to improve one's situation is to do nothing at all.  

When The Moon Hits Your Eye Like A Big Pizza Pie...

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G Said:  I hate my oven.  This fact must be thoroughly understood.  With that being said, on with the show!

I come from a land where pizza runs wild and free like herds of African animals...where thin crusts are un-adulterated by such "modernist" and "fusion" toppings such as buffalo chicken, carnitas, or, the worst offense of all, pineapple and ham.  I'm a hard-line traditionalist who appreciates the beauty and the simplicity of what, essentially, is peasant-food (and there's a lot of pride behind that).  California Pizza Kitchen, I'm officially putting you on blast.  Behold perfection.

Another point of pride is being able to make it at home--you know, the real way.  From the ground up.  Growing up, the typical Saturday saw my father starting the dough around 2 while watching golf.  Now, I've taken what I've learned and run with it--I've got my own plan and my own routine, but the love is the same.  And now I got to share it with She, who was a champ!  What impressed me the most was how quickly she picked up "the move" (keep it clean, this is a family show)--fold, press, quarter-turn, repeat.  Dough-kneading at its finest.  Seeing her so willing to get her hands dirty is, of course, a huge bonus!  She sure makes it look good.  Oh, and she may worry about her yeast rising, but I taught her to keep the water warm and to throw some sugar in there to rehydrate...works every time.

Back to the oven--I set it on broil, but it seems as if it won't go above 450 F...not cool when you need 550/600 for a good crust, so we needed to make do with what we had.  And if you suggest a stone, I'm way ahead of you.  Even have a peel.  Booyeah.  But even a nice slab won't make it hotter in there...definitely need to build that outdoor coal-burning oven...then need to buy a house to have a back yard to put it in. 

She Said: I have never made pizza from scratch before, but when growing up, this was a regular family tradition for G. When he suggested a pizza making night, of course I said, yes (fyi: if a handsome, Italian man says he will cook for you and teach you how to make authentic Italian food, you must always say YES).  I must admit I had some reservations.  Yeast intimidates me, and first time cooking experiences can tell a lot about your couple style, both good and bad (friends have warned me).  Will one person be the messy cook and drive the clean cook crazy; does one cook follow the recipe and the other not, even the flow of moving about the kitchen may pose a problem, will you bump in to eachother or get in each others way? All of this could be a couple- kitchen nightmare... fortunately, cooking time with G is nothing but relaxing.  When Italian food is on the agenda, Frank Sinatra is played, wine is poured, flour sprinkled all over the counter, hands get dirty, and childhood stories are shared.  We even managed to squeeze a game of wiffle ball in while the pizza sauce was cooking and Clue while the oven was heating.   As I took a bite into the steaming sausage pizza we created together, of course every one of my tastebuds resonated with deliciousness but to me what meant more was all of the other non-traditional ingredients thrown in.    

You spin me right round, baby, right round. Like a record, baby...

She Said: This record player from Target has all the bells and whistles one needs.  Tape player, cd player, radio, and record player all in one old fashioned looking but high quality concert sounding device.  Cheap records are the way to go especially when they are .50 cents at Rasputen Music.  I love the record smell and as I shoved one in G's face he replied, "Ahhh it smells like memories."  We picked out some favorites.  My purchases included:  

-Carole King, Tapestry

-Toto, Toto IV

-Nat King Cole- Love is the Thing

-The Police- Synchronicity

-Fleetwood Mac- Rumors

And together we decided on Huey Lewis and The News, Sports

Headed back with our record finds.  I carefully put Huey on the turn table and placed the needle gently in place.  The snap crackle and pop of the record player got us in the Corona drinking, 4th of July cooking spirit.  Honey Butter Cornbread and  Cheese Stuffed Dates with Prosciutto with the essence of Huey Lewis, If This Is It blasted in to them made for some great eats. 

Cheers!

G Said:  Definitely spent more time eating the date filling than actually stuffing them....50/50 marscapone/goat cheese w/finely chopped basil.  Yeah, I said marscapone.  The other piece of my scheme was the have enough left over for lunch tomorrow.  So while all the guys are arguing over Subway vs.  Punjab (a decent Indian place in Livingston) vs. Gene-o's (some of the worst pizza you'll ever encounter), I'll be locking my office door and re-living the 4th of July!  (Ed. note:  at this particular point in reading, if I had a mustache, I would be stroking it fervently).  

About to go to meet She's mom and friends for patriotic festivities--it's one of my favorite holidays (I think She described it yesterday as "Christmas in summer") and I love the backyard family-focus that it always brings.  Growing up, the 4th always meant grilling LBJ ribs on my grandparents' deck.  If we stuck around long enough, we could see the Hudson River fireworks over NYC, or we'd head back to Branchburg for the 4-H fairgrounds (I've been to a lot of municipal fireworks displays over the years--what can I say--I'm a small-town connoisseur) and those kick some serious redcoat ass.  

Give me liberty or give me death, and don't forget to kiss the chef.