Food, Wine, Good (and Evil) Spirits

whiskey_shot_248.jpgWe'd been drinking since Happy Hour at that Korean Pirates of the Caribbean on Wilshire. We guzzled 5000cc's of Amber Ale, and dined on authentic cuisine: "tteokbokki" and "potato skins." Post-Happy Hour pricing pushed us on to the streets. We decided to regroup at a home-base off Franklin.

We drank whiskey shots and warm beer on the breezy patio. Our friends were at that bar-that-offers-free-tacos-with-every-drink. The house descended on to the watering hole recently annexed by the hip-seeking Manifest Destiny of gentrification. Friends from varied areas of my life crowded into a corner of the cantina.

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wallysmain.jpgAs a wine lover in Los Angeles, there is a wide range of dinners, tastings and classes one can attend every month and unless you have unlimited funds, you have to become fairly selective in where you spend your wine tasting budget. I've heard many great things about Wally's Annual Central Coast Wine & Food Celebration, but was never able to attend until this year. This past Sunday, I decided to take a chance. For me, the biggest factor in whether I'm going to drag myself (and my designated driver, a.k.a my husband) out to an event is what we call "bang for the buck." I don't normally go to festival-type functions because I want to talk to the winemakers about their offerings, which rarely happens when you're trapped in a tiny room with other, equally excited, wine lovers who you have to elbow out of the way just to get a 1-ounce pour. Plus, it's hard to feel like you're getting your monies worth when you only remember tasting 20 wines...and that's if you're taking notes.

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Old FashionedIt all started with a Napoleon. And a desire for a cocktail after dinner. The Napoleon, uneaten, and so taken away in a box from a late lunch at Petit Trois was the itch, scratching my brain. It’s eggy vanilla aroma permeates the car on the way home and a bottle of newly purchased Bulleit Rye clinks next to me. I get the vision of a vanilla driven rye cocktail sipped along with that Napoleon.

Ludo’s Napoleons aren’t delicate fine things with a slick of sweet white icing across the top. No, they’re robust and sturdy finished off with a perfect shard of bruléed confectioner’s sugar. They are so thick that I’ve never eaten one by cutting down a bite with my fork. Instead I pluck off the top layer of crunchy puff paste and the clinging pastry cream, which leaves another layer of the same to munch later open-face sandwich style. This is the life of the food obsessed.  Upon googling rye and vanilla I found Brandon at Kitchen Konfidence and  a recipe for an Old-Fashioned made with vanilla sugar. I always keep a jar of sugar studded with vanilla beans in the pantry, so his recipe was quick to put together.  Here’s my version. I’m making some vanilla syrup to keep in the fridge for the next one.

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italiantable.jpg“So, Gary, what was your favorite wine of the night?”

It was about 11:15 and dinner had been over for about forty-five minutes, but no one had left the table. 

Our guests had been drinking water and nibbling on three types of chocolate in a desperate attempt to get back in driving condition before heading home.  It was at this point that I thought we should hear which of the nine wines we served were the favorites.

“I liked the Pigato and the Gattinara but the Sforzato kept getting better and better.  Maybe that one.”

The dinner was in part my personal graduation exercise after completing a fairly intensive Italian wine class given by the North American Sommelier Association, which is the only United States Sommelier Association affiliated with Associazione Italiana Sommelier, Italy’s premier sommelier society.  My wife, Peggy, had talked me into taking the course because of an ever growing interest in Italian wines that took hold after a trip to Tuscany about two years ago.

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altThe quest for health and wellness continues. Kombucha is an acquired taste. A few years back, I picked some up at my local health food store. I was totally tuned off. This past year, I tasted homemade Kombucha at my friend, Carrie’s. I was hooked.

I loved it so much that when I left her house, I was gifted a little glass jar filled with my very own Kombucha culture. The 93 mile drive home was done with a big smile on my face.

My little jar sat in the passenger seat; I had company. The next day I purchased the few ingredients I needed to concoct my own black tea, fizzy cocktail. I was in business.

After my visit to Carrie’s I made it endlessly.  There was always a batch brewing. I had to ration out the kombucha in the fridge so it would last the entire week. I lost weight, my sweet tooth subsided, and I was addicted.

Then I took a break. You ask why? I cannot answer that.

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