There are three types of people in this world: those that like cherries, those that like cherry-flavored, and those that like neither (or both, which makes this category 4 I suppose). I’m wedged into the latter but have slowly learned to appreciate the seasonal gift of fresh cherries.
Please don’t get me wrong. There are no agendas, no personal allergic antedotes, nothing of the sort. Growing up fresh cherries weren’t a part of my family menu. To us, cherries were the gloopy, glossy globes that didn’t need a cherry pitter but a can opener. Something tells me that’s not quite the way Mother Nature intended them to be enjoyed but purely an act out of mankind’s thifty desire to preserve their short season.
It’s only been the past few years that I’ve learned to have my way with fresh cherries in the kitchen and that has resulted in a slight cherry crush. I don’t want to eat cherry pie or clafoutis unless you can convince me you made it yourself and please for the love of god keep any fauxcherryanything far away from me. That includes Luden’s.
Still, I can’t help but get a teensy bit excited when I see cherries.
We were really happy to sample the new PomWonderful drinks as a prelude to the holiday season. Pom Mango, Pom Hula, Pom Coconut. And since we’re not going away for Christmas this year, it was an excuse to pretend we were lounging under an umbrella on the beach, listening to the waves pound against the shore, and watching the sunset as we tasted the new varieties. (For the record, these were sent to me as samples, but as people who know me know, I don’t always write about the samples that I’m sent, not unless I like them, anyway – those crabcakes shaped like baseballs come to mind...)
The more wines you try, the more you'll develop your palate-it's that simple. And how you try them makes all the difference. I know when you see wine tasters doing a lot of curious slurping it seems like a highly mysterious activity...but it's not. Swirl, sniff and spit, that's all it is. So why do we swirl? What are we looking for exactly? What is acidity? Tannin?
The email was very cryptic: “The Blindfold Dinner, April 24, 2012, at Osteria Mamma”. There wasn’t even a time, let alone an explanation. But still, how could we resist? After all, Osteria Mamma is our favorite Italian restaurant and the email is from Filippo, one of Mamma’s two sons who I became friends with first while taking an Italian Wine Specialist course and then from endless dinners at their restaurant. I hit the “reply” key on the email and write “Peggy and I will be there. What time?”