Stuck in France

I get stuck in food/taste ruts quite often. I'm not sure what to call it but it's categorized by long bouts of eating the same thing, until I overload my taste buds with the same tastes and swing in a drastically opposite direction. I'm in a yogurt and granola rut right now. Organic blueberry flax granola and greek honey yogurt... I could eat it for every single meal, all day long, for the next two weeks. Last time, it was Pace Medium Picante salsa and Mission Tortilla chips. I ate jars and jars worth of salsa. I can't say it's healthy, but it's taste-bud satisfying and it makes for easy bulk-shopping.

It seems to be the same with alcohol. You can probably chart my wine drinking ruts through this blog. Right now, I'm smack dab in the middle of a Cotes Du Rhone binge. I don't want to drink anything else. And seeing that there are about 2 worthwhile Cotes Du Rhone wines in my price range, there isn't much differentiation in my drinking habits. As for beer, I'm only drinking IPAs. Nothing tastes as rich or as refreshing as a really good, 6%+ IPA. So it's Cotes Du Rhone and a variety of IPAs (Deschutes Inversion IPA and Ninkasi Total Domination IPA, primarily) at our apartment right now and I can't seem to break free. My last alcohol rut was probably Cabernet Sauvignon and Porters... I suppose the difference isn't huge in this case, but I certainly have my patterns.

The weather has been insane here in Washington lately, a big snowstorm (for us) with some nice snow days off of work, an ice storm immediately following, and then big puddles from the snow melt and a bunch of rain. Though the temperatures have been warming up, it's a great time to be drinking rich red wines that serve as fantastic alternatives to turning the heat up all the way to the "Comfort Zone" range. At a dinner party we had last night, a friend brought over a Malbec and Cabernet and Ben, after having a small glass, remarked that he forgot how good a nice glass of red wine can be (the beer drinking seems to have erased his memory) in the chilly weather. I was the designated driver and so I didn't try the Argento Malbec, but everyone around the table seemed to thoroughly enjoy it.

And so the Malbec realization and the wine rut realization merged and I've come up with a resolution (a little late, I know) to drink more variety, beyond the usual big reds I like (into France, Italy, Spain, Germany, Mendoza, South Africa, some more of California and Oregon, and finally into some richer white wine territories). And then I want to pick up writing about it again. I know the blog has fallen off a bit lately with work getting busier and busier and my spare time now filled with using my KitchenAid mixer rather than my Waterford decanter. But, I think it's a ridiculously easy resolution on the scale of self-improvement resolutions.

So off into the wine world 2012 I go. Let me know if you have any pressing recommendations or suggestions on how to break out of ruts - a particularly good varietal would suffice!

Sipping Port in my smoking jacket

This morning while kneeling over one of those irritating table-top ironing boards, I looked over at what I'm calling "The Wine Rack That Ben Built"* and noticed that it was fully stocked with an amazing assortment of wines. I think that this is my initiation into adulthood for many reasons: 1. I have a wine rack aka furniture that didn't come with the room; 2. I have an existing bottle of wine, not just a recycling bin full of empties; 3. Each bottle of wine cost more than $10.

In the wine rack I have an Alamos Malbec, a Pinot Noir from Sonoma (from Lot18.com, a great wine site with super values), a French and a Californian Rose (also from Lot18), a Bonterra Cabernet Sauvignon and a few other easy to drink table wines. I will be tasting and testing and writing about them all... but in a fit of adulthood inspired writing, I wanted to write about something that makes me feel (and seem?) rather ancient: Port.

Port is one of those things that you immediately associate with elderly men and cordial glasses. Maybe a smoking jacket, too. Happily it's not only something pulled out of musty cellars by British men with bad teeth, but it's also pulled out of liquor cabinets by my father, who has decidedly less bad teeth than the British.

My Dad loves port and first served it to us as part of one of my parents' anniversary dinners. We had it with cheese and pears, in tiny little crystal glasses. And I thought it was the worst thing in the world, besides peas, that I'd ever ingested. Lucky for me, my Dad forced me to finish my glass (isn't this backward?)... and continued to make me finish my port glass from then (I was maybe 16) on. I remember having port on the holidays when we were visiting my grandmother, and then at home a few times in the evening while playing cards. And I don't remember liking it very much until a few days ago when I had an amazing port that was on sale at Trader Joes (you can find it at Safeway too). The Warre's Warrior Porto Wine Special Reserve (normally $18, marked down to $14.99), is one of the oldest brands of port still in existence. Warre's was founded in 1670 in Portugal by the British.

Though I don't have any tasting notes to offer you, but that it was a lighter, more palatable port (without sacrificing richness or that fortified sweetness), it did pair amazingly well with the strong cheese we had it with. If you're interested in port already and want a great one, check out the Warre's. It's consistently rated between 88 and 91 points by Wine Spectator and I don't think you can find a better port for under $20.

Some helpful Port drinking hints: If you're going to buy port, buy some pairings too - I prefer Stilton cheese, but a blue cheese will work as well. I also love pears or apples with port. Though some people prefer dark chocolates, but I think the sweetness can be overpowering. When tasting the port with a strong cheese, if you take a small piece of cheese and start to chew it, then have a sip of the port, the two together will combine to become a brand new flavor. For people that are new to port entirely, it's best as a dessert substitute. Port isn't meant to be gulped or chugged, but instead is best sipped leisurely in teensy glasses while talking about your land holdings and your impudent serfs.

*"The Wine Rack That Ben Built" is a long story with a happy ending. About a month and a half ago, as I went to order a wine rack on Amazon.com, Ben decided he was going to make me one. He designed a rack in class, calculated the angles, the lengths, the sizing... and then we went to Lowes, where it cost more than the online wine rack to buy the cart full of tools and supplies. A few mis-cuts, a few more trips to Lowes, one injured shoulder muscle, and weeks and weeks later: he was able to finish it. In summation: it may have taken forever and cost more than the $30 rack on Amazon, but it's gorgeous and a lot more love went into building it than would have gone into a credit card swipe.

Ode to Gourmet Grocery Stores (and wine, of course!)

We have a gourmet grocery store in Tacoma (and the greater Seattle area) called the Metropolitan Market and it is a magical place where you feel so happy that you empty your wallet on needless things like caramel lace cookies and five dollar creme brule desserts that come with free shaped rammakins. About once every few weeks I need something so obscure that I have to go to the Met to find it - like Japanese rice flour for mochi or coconut milk, instant polentas or pre-made tapenades. And about once every few weeks I walk out of the store with whatever obscure item I needed and about forty dollars poorer.

Because yesterday was a part of one of those weeks, I want to write a mini ode to the Met (and don't worry, their wine selection is included here!). Ben and I consider the store our special occasion/fancy/treat store. If I'm having a bad day, it's inevitable he'll suggest that we go to the Met and get a picture sugar cookie (they're always seasonally or event-themed by shape and coloring - fall leaves, Oscar figurines, peaches). And if we want a fancy 22 oz. beer that we can neither afford nor find anywhere else, it's to the Met for an 9% Black Boss Porter in tiny bottles or a regal looking bottle of unpasteurized Trappist monk-brewed Trippel Ale.

When you first walk into the met you're greeted on the right by pastries, and petit fours, decorated cakes and bursting eclairs. On the left, a whole host of hydrangea flowers and potted orchids with gigantic purple sprays. And directly in front of you: every single kind of bread and cheese you'd ever want. They have plates of cheese for tasting - 26 month Goudas and Asagio Parmesan wheels and giant stinking hunks of french blue cheese. The bread wraps around the cheese like a happy food shawl, rosemary breads and little loaves stuffed with garlic - all for about $4-6 a loaf and baked fresh. It's a scary place to walk around in when you're hungry.

After winning some money from a wine contest I entered on Snooth.com (yay!) and deciding to celebrate with... well, wine, we went into the Met to get some cheese to pair with it. They have this amazing little basket in the cheese section where they throw the ends or irregular cuts of their cheese loaves. And you can get a great piece of cheese to try for $1-3. We ended up picking out an English White Cheddar, that 26 month aged Gouda, a French Raclette (a soft cheese that was a bit stronger than brie), and finally an Emmental (a cheese from Switzerland). We added to that the Met's marinated mushrooms and a loaf of French bread and then a wine I'd bought there a while back and hadn't had a chance to drink.

I had been hearing great things about the 2009 Perrin & Fils Côtes du Rhône Reserve and, eager to branch my wine tastes into France a bit, had picked it up. I was worried that the wine would be a bit too spicy and rustic for my tastes, but after opening it up and drinking it next to all of these fantastic cheeses, I fell in love. This wine, for about $10.99 at the Met (it ranges from $9-$15), was everything you'd want in a pairing wine. It went well with cheese, and the salmon I later had for dinner, but I can see it as being a delicious addition to a pork meal as well. The wine smelled extremely peppery and acidic, but the bouquet softened considerably when I actually drank it. Though the pepper and spice remained a prominent feature of the wine, the tannins were smooth and the wine was hardly acidic at all. The finish was remarkably smooth for such a spicy wine. I would highly, highly recommend this wine, especially as a great initiation into the Côtes du Rhône region.