Inspired in part by the Sassy Radish, I decided to experiment with the salad dressing. Two tomatillas, tomato, lemon juice, a clove of garlic, a handful of cilantro, sour cream, green onions, a garlic scape and olive oil were tossed into the cuisinart. The dressing was chunky, zesty and perfect for a salad of black beans, corn, spring red onions and a crumble of feta cheese over red leaf lettuce.
Experimentation can be good, especially on a warm summer evening.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Eating Takes Work
We had reason to celebrate - a Monday morning presentation represented the end of a three-month long project. What better way to celebrate, than with Tom Douglas' Serious Pie, a place with amazing, wood-fired, thin crusted pizza, really, the perfect pizza.
We began with a salad of butter lettuce, poached cherries and smoked buffalo mozarella (brachhio, maybe?). The pizzas then arrived - three beautiful creations. Roasted potato with a shake of parmesan. Marinara and cheese. Mushroom with truffled cheese. All fabulous. I accompanied with a tasty glass of dolcetto.
And then it was time for dessert. A sister restaurant of Dahlia Lounge, we ordered off of the Serious Pie menu from the Dahlia menu. Our waitress delivered two slices of the famous coconut cream pie and a steaming bag of Dahlia donuts, with vanilla and raspberry dipping sauces. The coconut cream pie was all that I remembered - a flaky crust, a rich and thick cream studded with chunks of fresh coconut and a layer of lightly sweetened cream, covered in white chocolate curles and flakes of freshly roasted coconut. It was heaven. I didn't even taste the donuts, but was told that they were delicious.
After two bites of pie, Jeff remarked "This is really rich". "Yes" I mumbled, my mouth full of coconut cream goodness, "Eating this takes work."
We began with a salad of butter lettuce, poached cherries and smoked buffalo mozarella (brachhio, maybe?). The pizzas then arrived - three beautiful creations. Roasted potato with a shake of parmesan. Marinara and cheese. Mushroom with truffled cheese. All fabulous. I accompanied with a tasty glass of dolcetto.
And then it was time for dessert. A sister restaurant of Dahlia Lounge, we ordered off of the Serious Pie menu from the Dahlia menu. Our waitress delivered two slices of the famous coconut cream pie and a steaming bag of Dahlia donuts, with vanilla and raspberry dipping sauces. The coconut cream pie was all that I remembered - a flaky crust, a rich and thick cream studded with chunks of fresh coconut and a layer of lightly sweetened cream, covered in white chocolate curles and flakes of freshly roasted coconut. It was heaven. I didn't even taste the donuts, but was told that they were delicious.
After two bites of pie, Jeff remarked "This is really rich". "Yes" I mumbled, my mouth full of coconut cream goodness, "Eating this takes work."
Sunday, June 17, 2007
the Mourvedre
Every once in a while, a bottle of wine really gets to me. From the first to last sip, I am infatuated, loving the sensations of the wine as it crosses my lips, tasting the nuances as it dances on my tongue, enjoying the lingering after taste of each sip. Several years ago, I remember enjoying a bottle marketed for Valentine's Day; I can't remember much about the wine, but I do that I enjoyed so much, I tried to get extra bottles from my wine club (even though the relationship that marked the bottle's consumption ended a few days later). I felt this way the first time I tasted a Gruner Veltliner and still dream of the amazing 2005 Brachetto d'Acqui Prieto of several months ago.
The other night, my wine seller neighbor Stephanie hosted a little party. I brought along my corn salad, she supplied me with a steady stream of bubbly and wine. I had to duck out for an airport run, returning in time to hang out with a few last stragglers. Walking out of her apartment after getting me a glass, Stephanie grabbed a 2004 Jade Moutain Mourvedre. I inhaled, took a sip, and instantly, felt my knees go a bit wobbly. I was in love.
A red wine, it had accents of chocolate, berries and tobacco. It tasted warm, well-balanced, not to oaky and not too alcoholic. For me, it was the perfect balance of tastes and satisfaction.
I had never heard of mourvedre. At first look, my wine bible, the Oxford Companion to Wine, didn't seem to list the varietal. What the hell, I thought? Then, perhaps due to the glass of wine I was drinking while researching mourvedre, realized that I'd confused my u's and o's and Oxford did cover it (thus restoring my confidence in the heavy tome). My new favorite wine is "Spain's second most important black grape variety after Grenache and once Provence's most important vine". It's also called Mataro in the New World (which I guess would be California).
Mourvedre/mataro wasn't that popular until the 1980s, although, considering the amount of wine I consume, it may still not be that popular. At that time, the Rhone Rangers, a group of California wine makers (including favorites Bonny Doon and Cline) decided to be a bit more creative with the blending, "which provided a useful outlet for the produce of old grenache and mataro (mourvedre) vines which had previously languished out of favor." And, the old vines were located primarily in Contra Costa county, which makes sense; while Jade Mountain Winery is based in Napa, the grapes were grown at Evangelho Vineyard in Contra Costa County (a geographic area also known as Silicon Valley). And, the bottle is labeled "Ancient Vines 1890". Amazing that the vines weren't attacked by phylloxera.
Wikipedia had an interesting notation:
"Mourv/(R)dre, is a variety of red wine grape grown around the world. In Portugal and the New World. It is known as Mataro, whilst in some parts of France it is known as Estrangle-Chien ("dog strangler")."
Great, I've fallen in love with a wine that is also synonymous with dog stranglers.
The other night, my wine seller neighbor Stephanie hosted a little party. I brought along my corn salad, she supplied me with a steady stream of bubbly and wine. I had to duck out for an airport run, returning in time to hang out with a few last stragglers. Walking out of her apartment after getting me a glass, Stephanie grabbed a 2004 Jade Moutain Mourvedre. I inhaled, took a sip, and instantly, felt my knees go a bit wobbly. I was in love.
A red wine, it had accents of chocolate, berries and tobacco. It tasted warm, well-balanced, not to oaky and not too alcoholic. For me, it was the perfect balance of tastes and satisfaction.
I had never heard of mourvedre. At first look, my wine bible, the Oxford Companion to Wine, didn't seem to list the varietal. What the hell, I thought? Then, perhaps due to the glass of wine I was drinking while researching mourvedre, realized that I'd confused my u's and o's and Oxford did cover it (thus restoring my confidence in the heavy tome). My new favorite wine is "Spain's second most important black grape variety after Grenache and once Provence's most important vine". It's also called Mataro in the New World (which I guess would be California).
Mourvedre/mataro wasn't that popular until the 1980s, although, considering the amount of wine I consume, it may still not be that popular. At that time, the Rhone Rangers, a group of California wine makers (including favorites Bonny Doon and Cline) decided to be a bit more creative with the blending, "which provided a useful outlet for the produce of old grenache and mataro (mourvedre) vines which had previously languished out of favor." And, the old vines were located primarily in Contra Costa county, which makes sense; while Jade Mountain Winery is based in Napa, the grapes were grown at Evangelho Vineyard in Contra Costa County (a geographic area also known as Silicon Valley). And, the bottle is labeled "Ancient Vines 1890". Amazing that the vines weren't attacked by phylloxera.
Wikipedia had an interesting notation:
"Mourv/(R)dre, is a variety of red wine grape grown around the world. In Portugal and the New World. It is known as Mataro, whilst in some parts of France it is known as Estrangle-Chien ("dog strangler")."
Great, I've fallen in love with a wine that is also synonymous with dog stranglers.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Fremont 5K
I ran the Fremont 5K Friday night, reaching my personal best time, 36 minutes, for a 5K. For those of you paying attention, this was about 3 minutes faster than the St. Paddy's Day Dash, although about flat with the Beat the Bridge Race a few weeks ago.
A few things about the race. It was an evening race, so very different dynamic than the usual early morning start. It was also on the smaller end, maybe 350 runners. And, the planners also sponsored a briefcase relay, which meant that I got to see teams of people dressed in wacky clothes, including riffs on the office worker garb, with a few carrying briefcases.
The race began/ended at Adobe Plaza, where a too small beer garden had been set up. Sadly, garlic was roasting in the oven and we had to skip the beer garden, but I was treated to a delicious spaghetti dinner after.
A few things about the race. It was an evening race, so very different dynamic than the usual early morning start. It was also on the smaller end, maybe 350 runners. And, the planners also sponsored a briefcase relay, which meant that I got to see teams of people dressed in wacky clothes, including riffs on the office worker garb, with a few carrying briefcases.
The race began/ended at Adobe Plaza, where a too small beer garden had been set up. Sadly, garlic was roasting in the oven and we had to skip the beer garden, but I was treated to a delicious spaghetti dinner after.
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