tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36708389195178137122024-03-05T21:31:28.479-08:00Elixir VitaePersonal and idiosyncratic comments on life's journey, with frequent forays into wine and spirits.Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.comBlogger409125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-54210812437017789462022-02-24T12:04:00.000-08:002022-02-24T12:04:16.840-08:00Current Impressions on Oregon Wines<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnpuo1qwh2-1qFqVBvytFaSj0ClgurWxLRa1e3qdv8x3F6A5aKQTfPGjCtJnzlTBIdVHAxyYsQGDEF5rX_W_4p8q3fEK4PJsB-rmAlU3G39Bq2zz_H0tfg2MU7IJVEIO4bkzF8Z0t6Ni7fOKT7PiusZelSul8JyTeGLwSQhOMPYuDG79T_nFDP9mUV=s1024" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="1024" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnpuo1qwh2-1qFqVBvytFaSj0ClgurWxLRa1e3qdv8x3F6A5aKQTfPGjCtJnzlTBIdVHAxyYsQGDEF5rX_W_4p8q3fEK4PJsB-rmAlU3G39Bq2zz_H0tfg2MU7IJVEIO4bkzF8Z0t6Ni7fOKT7PiusZelSul8JyTeGLwSQhOMPYuDG79T_nFDP9mUV=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Willamette Valley, Steve Rawley, CC</td></tr></tbody></table><p>I recently completed a weekend judging at the 2022 McMinnville Classic Wine Competition. It's a fun competition, with some great people participating who represent knowledgeable locals, influential wine writers and critics, spiced up with savvy veteran winemakers, retailers and consumers.</p><p>The most important function of this competition, for me, is the opportunity to sample a wide spectrum of wines covering all of Oregon to update my 'wine picture'. I discover new and exciting wines and winemakers, see how certain AVAs are developing, and share insights with my peers.<br /><br />My general takeaway from this competition?</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Oregon has done an impressive job in fully developing the entire state as home to an admirable collection of AVAs producing a stunning diversity of styles and varieties.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjr5dG6G1PeFm6HOOiWWrsgk0wV-qhi5NvRFXuSjY-U3cdBKYxOzxWZ3wbTDFq3CXfHn3pHRjsn8guFbiK62HdL6iyHfO8yxUWkPiDOwDIdKmkK4fZl6_HNBGFsKnWB2QGbwbL4fVaDk3kpBnbJuJma4sUyW3CpaPPxpC5bVzYMde2Eu4fc9l8LrR3F=s1024" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="795" data-original-width="1024" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjr5dG6G1PeFm6HOOiWWrsgk0wV-qhi5NvRFXuSjY-U3cdBKYxOzxWZ3wbTDFq3CXfHn3pHRjsn8guFbiK62HdL6iyHfO8yxUWkPiDOwDIdKmkK4fZl6_HNBGFsKnWB2QGbwbL4fVaDk3kpBnbJuJma4sUyW3CpaPPxpC5bVzYMde2Eu4fc9l8LrR3F=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Creative Commons</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></li><li>That incredible passion and persistence of the Founders Generation remains! Sometimes the baton got passed to sons and daughters, sometimes they were handed over to the new true believers. But the energy, the dedication, the passion, all remain as strong as ever. Actually, stronger than ever.<br /><br /></li><li>Is Pinot Noir still the variety that gets the most attention? How could it not be? Oregon is one of the greatest Pinot Noir regions in the world. And it's so much more.<br /><br /></li></ul><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiZp_zU894LIpW4aC2L1t3eepSTNGt2kzgk0cO_4MWrIZ2OwJEYaAurTGYN_5KhqzyHNhEx27fNBz98Qt93Jj9Ephayi7vro6v3ybZPoHaS81SneEXRVKjDBOjY-56ssr6Y5MDOD6ng9_NtPhEkh8-MuqAM4y9R7REQf-GNio1W6D2AL_7pLH-1ZGmb=s2160" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1124" data-original-width="2160" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiZp_zU894LIpW4aC2L1t3eepSTNGt2kzgk0cO_4MWrIZ2OwJEYaAurTGYN_5KhqzyHNhEx27fNBz98Qt93Jj9Ephayi7vro6v3ybZPoHaS81SneEXRVKjDBOjY-56ssr6Y5MDOD6ng9_NtPhEkh8-MuqAM4y9R7REQf-GNio1W6D2AL_7pLH-1ZGmb=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daisy Creek, Creative Commons</td></tr></tbody></table><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Diversity is the operating factor in Oregon Wines. Like Alice's Restaurant, you can get anything you want in Oregon. You don't automatically think "Ah, Dolcetto!" when you're shopping Oregon wines. But it's there, and it's good---good enough to be awarded a gold medal. Likewise Gamay, Tempranillo, Barbera, Zinfandel, some stunning Cabernet Francs, Malbec, Syrah, Mourvedre, Sangiovese, Vermentino, Teroldego Rotaliano, Lagrein, Grenache, including red, white and delicious rose', and even rare varieties and blends from grapes such as Scheurebe, Gewurztraminer, Huxelrebe, Muller-Thurgau---and of course, the noble Riesling<br /><br /></li></ul><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-46254292552732122852022-02-13T14:58:00.000-08:002022-02-13T14:58:45.301-08:00Best Sparkling Wine ~ McMinnville Wine + Food Classic 2022 ~ 40:31 Wines Sparkling Blanc de Noir<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjEWHpI-9lkFst_C_uLBIIpAi3Lj447wrID64Mdnl6ThP2jBUEvXmtVosLpAnzSM0Q2B22eGVZx7W20MWMOA7Q8gyGiJamrDWUlKbpgCBJ35_xXIaLigfbd1uVXN96FFTa-HzcOn1K5sCkf4ezyY7WltmChC681ghZS2zkWoZIcn6pGFnV0hBVEaGQM=s3600" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="3600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjEWHpI-9lkFst_C_uLBIIpAi3Lj447wrID64Mdnl6ThP2jBUEvXmtVosLpAnzSM0Q2B22eGVZx7W20MWMOA7Q8gyGiJamrDWUlKbpgCBJ35_xXIaLigfbd1uVXN96FFTa-HzcOn1K5sCkf4ezyY7WltmChC681ghZS2zkWoZIcn6pGFnV0hBVEaGQM=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kudos to the hard workers in the Back Room.<br />They acquired all the wines,<br /> arranged them in categories and flights, <br />and delivered them to the judges for their deliberations.<br /><br />For wine competitions, as the maxim goes,<br />"You're only as good as your Back Room Crew."<br />And we had a great Back Room Crew!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>If you're not willing or able to taste over 200 Oregon wines, we understand. Not to worry: we've done most of the work for you. The McMinnville Wine + Food Classic had 12 expert judges taste through these wines so we could discover what we found to be the best.<br /><br />Here's an example of what we found: a lovely Blanc de Noir single-vineyard sparkling wine.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhRMde7kG0Ek0Ql4kWidd4BvPg5NEOpIHLIoeaUwTHgnIjYa9JqVEN3O0OgzxrXOINVhV7s57sSGfj4cmLyk5u9SXs3sAFE7lJ30tAtfYiY_c81PlMAszIMdmkYCs9KMKXhbBmoDCuwRn22nmiQFrBqspMCtev7ED0tywlAnmAPsGJnNN9ZRrLjRTJt=s353" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="143" data-original-width="353" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhRMde7kG0Ek0Ql4kWidd4BvPg5NEOpIHLIoeaUwTHgnIjYa9JqVEN3O0OgzxrXOINVhV7s57sSGfj4cmLyk5u9SXs3sAFE7lJ30tAtfYiY_c81PlMAszIMdmkYCs9KMKXhbBmoDCuwRn22nmiQFrBqspMCtev7ED0tywlAnmAPsGJnNN9ZRrLjRTJt=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4cOeeSLpaUmJo7W6kaKICYDt0A7U4xfyVLkB_zQ3XasdbbVy3uPYFf-jemPvNfJNLbNBNi3U46cvMxS9vpSxe9Kc6HkrmUG-Ib_EFuqRYfVZ6j6XIMtnchsVR9e4h8A06re2uSFPOgAYOcFwma76fNGxAfUbXHz4HxkBiR9LvEDwa55iq5o0YZKts=s150" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="150" data-original-width="150" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4cOeeSLpaUmJo7W6kaKICYDt0A7U4xfyVLkB_zQ3XasdbbVy3uPYFf-jemPvNfJNLbNBNi3U46cvMxS9vpSxe9Kc6HkrmUG-Ib_EFuqRYfVZ6j6XIMtnchsVR9e4h8A06re2uSFPOgAYOcFwma76fNGxAfUbXHz4HxkBiR9LvEDwa55iq5o0YZKts" width="150" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhY7mN12J7_uOTSvPo1SY0dWhK4u_zJikCKKiJtOcDC2iHRbGMg8qiJ3j03brfmxLS4g3PHv3dyxJvlm9ED9Gef9Y2rpbw0dHdjqfyRxsB8oxeYypMiD42nqDxWCuWrlqFsdbW41W-Q0xr7Wiw5awIvkXh_VVBysQ5yAb7Bbz4x9mlPVFIRoQ2lfj2_=s150" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="150" data-original-width="150" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhY7mN12J7_uOTSvPo1SY0dWhK4u_zJikCKKiJtOcDC2iHRbGMg8qiJ3j03brfmxLS4g3PHv3dyxJvlm9ED9Gef9Y2rpbw0dHdjqfyRxsB8oxeYypMiD42nqDxWCuWrlqFsdbW41W-Q0xr7Wiw5awIvkXh_VVBysQ5yAb7Bbz4x9mlPVFIRoQ2lfj2_" width="150" /></a></div><br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNcrlAvDBb3MLWLHkDn7nEY-omxFR60S21SiF2OJRMEUcFFAO98wkzM5z_KKJ1QAP8AgeSNo2wBmiCve59tlXxCk0Xvo58CJt5AFwPUpJ7Zo6omOID-hcG4fw98YvAEpW9N-Nhr36zkrfVvYrvxxUylfXd1GpFw8fs2rmonpuyWR09s83ueQmy_H2X=s2560" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="2560" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNcrlAvDBb3MLWLHkDn7nEY-omxFR60S21SiF2OJRMEUcFFAO98wkzM5z_KKJ1QAP8AgeSNo2wBmiCve59tlXxCk0Xvo58CJt5AFwPUpJ7Zo6omOID-hcG4fw98YvAEpW9N-Nhr36zkrfVvYrvxxUylfXd1GpFw8fs2rmonpuyWR09s83ueQmy_H2X=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="40:31 wines"><span style="color: #073763;">Ten Peaks Vineyard/40:31 Wines</span></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Taviraj, Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px;">"40:31 Wines refers to Isaiah 40:31, a long-time favorite bible verse. It’s a beautiful poem about Trust, no matter what – trust and you will find strength. The actual verse goes like this:</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Taviraj, Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 28px; margin: 0px 0px 15px; text-align: center;"><em style="box-sizing: border-box;">For those who trust in the Lord</em><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><em style="box-sizing: border-box;">shall renew their strength;</em><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><em style="box-sizing: border-box;">they shall soar high on wings like eagles;</em><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><em style="box-sizing: border-box;">they shall run and not grow weary;</em><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><em style="box-sizing: border-box;">they shall walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:31"</em></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Taviraj, Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 28px; margin: 0px 0px 15px; text-align: left;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">Adding to the reputation for high quality sparkling wine from Oregon, 40:31 Wines achieved impressive results by scoring a Double Gold Medal, where the wine must receive Gold from all three judges on the panel. The Double Gold automatically elevated the wine to the Sweepstakes round (where all judges taste the wines). There, the 40:31 Sparkling was elevated to Best Sparkling Wine in the competition.<br /><br />If you'd like to know more about 40:31 Wines you can go to <a href="https://4031wines.com/">the website </a>for information, pricing, and ordering.<br /><br />Or you could go to the grand gala tasting event March 11-14 at the Evergreen Air and Space Museum, where you'll find some other vinous treasures in great abundance.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Taviraj, Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 28px; margin: 0px 0px 15px; text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5N7rfXeRL5jmErt4kwS9ghmOnRk7QFvTukn4m9NfKiyt4QrxaS-zxE8d7taSCCQK3vD6cbrf9uAmFztDxJjWuJKmRfCQ1gZmqyuXcBlpsl-vKpZyoqyzjpe7-Po11s0LbFsoVtulQREO7OovJAKhz4-pu0aTK699CIzeBjE2NM4h9BAQHaQ_Ah1k4=s1920" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="1920" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5N7rfXeRL5jmErt4kwS9ghmOnRk7QFvTukn4m9NfKiyt4QrxaS-zxE8d7taSCCQK3vD6cbrf9uAmFztDxJjWuJKmRfCQ1gZmqyuXcBlpsl-vKpZyoqyzjpe7-Po11s0LbFsoVtulQREO7OovJAKhz4-pu0aTK699CIzeBjE2NM4h9BAQHaQ_Ah1k4=w321-h133" width="321" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://macclassic.org/wine-food-event/">The McMinnville Wine + Food Classic<br />Evergreen Air and Space Museum<br />March 11-14, 2022</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br /></span></p><br />Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-6274588009522771522022-02-02T14:31:00.000-08:002022-02-02T14:31:36.633-08:00Best of Show ~ McMinnville Wine Classic 2022 ~ Iris Vineyard Pinot Gris 2020<p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjE9zYeME_VqpS9uMLmyW8y1EELM4yOgcam3WJnh8hVn8jaTv6qE9XEj7lHPm-XPueCmnpesN3Q5qaXsETQUhaM_4VdE-JP6fvSenbCNvCq8yvq-b6bRMYVl6jZG__CJ4qXud-KKva6asAZYTWfSBsp_Q-TyEMt-CFNshFvHTI_ICrei1vesfQX-gxo=s200" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjE9zYeME_VqpS9uMLmyW8y1EELM4yOgcam3WJnh8hVn8jaTv6qE9XEj7lHPm-XPueCmnpesN3Q5qaXsETQUhaM_4VdE-JP6fvSenbCNvCq8yvq-b6bRMYVl6jZG__CJ4qXud-KKva6asAZYTWfSBsp_Q-TyEMt-CFNshFvHTI_ICrei1vesfQX-gxo=w400-h400" width="400" /></a></div>What does it say when a major Oregon wine competition, a highly experienced panel of judges, and an impressive array of submissions, winnows down the final field of 'The Best of the Best of the Best'? <br /><br />It means you might want to stock up on some wine. Quickly. But not too quickly, because it isn't scheduled for release from the winery until March 1, 2022.<p></p><p><br /></p><p>What else do you need to know? Oh, right...the SRP is $15.99.</p><p> </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div class="elementor-element elementor-element-2ec64ab elementor-widget elementor-widget-heading" data-element_type="widget" data-id="2ec64ab" data-widget_type="heading.default" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 20px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline; width: 540px;"><div class="elementor-widget-container" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; transition: background 0.3s ease 0s, border 0.3s ease 0s, border-radius 0.3s ease 0s, box-shadow 0.3s ease 0s, -webkit-border-radius 0.3s ease 0s, -webkit-box-shadow 0.3s ease 0s; vertical-align: baseline;"><h3 class="elementor-heading-title elementor-size-default" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; font-size: 2em; font-style: inherit; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-transform: uppercase; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #990000;">BEST OF SHOW</span></h3></div></div><div class="elementor-element elementor-element-2ec64ab elementor-widget elementor-widget-heading" data-element_type="widget" data-id="2ec64ab" data-widget_type="heading.default" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 20px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline; width: 540px;"><div class="elementor-widget-container" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; transition: background 0.3s ease 0s, border 0.3s ease 0s, border-radius 0.3s ease 0s, box-shadow 0.3s ease 0s, -webkit-border-radius 0.3s ease 0s, -webkit-box-shadow 0.3s ease 0s; vertical-align: baseline;"><h3 class="elementor-heading-title elementor-size-default" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; font-size: 2em; font-style: inherit; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-transform: uppercase; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #990000;">Best White Variety</span></h3></div></div><div class="elementor-element elementor-element-2ec64ab elementor-widget elementor-widget-heading" data-element_type="widget" data-id="2ec64ab" data-widget_type="heading.default" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 20px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline; width: 540px;"><div class="elementor-widget-container" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; transition: background 0.3s ease 0s, border 0.3s ease 0s, border-radius 0.3s ease 0s, box-shadow 0.3s ease 0s, -webkit-border-radius 0.3s ease 0s, -webkit-box-shadow 0.3s ease 0s; vertical-align: baseline;"><h3 class="elementor-heading-title elementor-size-default" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; font-size: 2em; font-style: inherit; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-transform: uppercase; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #990000;">Double Gold Medal</span></h3></div></div></blockquote><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgH-DNdFJbVesWYFsv041CsO9LjfI6CJ1-LBjgJvT0eDM6t8QElKSF6nqscOeDxP9pofjaohwGzUqcfHeMEf_03oKiJz71baJD5O8TzW5lhHOoOHjs4Oug6HHRAy49rRBQEWVcsvNNOrRrileWBUSPhHhjHidddegjcU8m0B_QCp07FiFWUjC_Y9ZMI=s640" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgH-DNdFJbVesWYFsv041CsO9LjfI6CJ1-LBjgJvT0eDM6t8QElKSF6nqscOeDxP9pofjaohwGzUqcfHeMEf_03oKiJz71baJD5O8TzW5lhHOoOHjs4Oug6HHRAy49rRBQEWVcsvNNOrRrileWBUSPhHhjHidddegjcU8m0B_QCp07FiFWUjC_Y9ZMI=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #990000;">IRIS VINEYARDS<br />Oregon Pinot Gris 2020</span></b></td></tr></tbody></table><p>The 2022 McMinnville Wine Classic recently announced its slate of the top-ranked wines. and there were some well-known brands, some start-up brands, and some impressive surprises for all the judges. <br /><br />We judges (I was on one of the four panels) had no knowledge of the brands submitted other than the category each was given. All we knew was the category---Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, Pinot Blanc, etc.---so our entire focus was the wine in each glass.<br /><br />During the 'sweepstakes round', all the judges tasted the wines and were encouraged to comment. Vigorous debate often ensued, with thorough exploration of different facets of the award-winning entries. In the end, the Iris Vineyard Pinot Gris 2020 received the majority of votes.<br /><br />It's safe to say that the small but prestigious winery in the deep Southern Willamette Valley just south of Bend was pleased with the honor. In fact, you could easily conclude that Iris eyes were smiling (sorry).</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMAUWCyRsceTVvSYAd_dTzhUqoQWjVYxxKtJGI8tZEagWBNf-exl8hoxouIZpD8nq6Gk4Jsmoe6mOF9i3JLbB5w02kU9lxpria4GjlosYuySVP-xXoeUwr0J-BuUT2lnSaAhm_XtONyGqw4XjK6MMWprMufPwqjTE8wIrFZXO2m-LGaBqnVVM0qwj7=s667" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="667" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMAUWCyRsceTVvSYAd_dTzhUqoQWjVYxxKtJGI8tZEagWBNf-exl8hoxouIZpD8nq6Gk4Jsmoe6mOF9i3JLbB5w02kU9lxpria4GjlosYuySVP-xXoeUwr0J-BuUT2lnSaAhm_XtONyGqw4XjK6MMWprMufPwqjTE8wIrFZXO2m-LGaBqnVVM0qwj7=s320" width="320" /></a><br /></div><br /><br />So get your orders in now because a wine this good at this affordable price won't stay in stock for long.<br /><p><br /></p><br />Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-83534332800766362562021-12-30T14:42:00.001-08:002021-12-30T14:52:34.054-08:00The Places I've Been; The People I've Met: Harry Waugh<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizEkogoHKqwnu4jnd7GQp-XQ92U3ZIsTfgJBh4cnchjdDO-pg3uBfML_Wl1UabPKy0PXku3skmEuzum5fxaq1cQdqXVvyNWsZDf-m4w7DlewVwS3t10-KW5vcTN51veRR4_ea4OC2Rzx8/s235/harry-waughles+amis+duvins.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="235" data-original-width="215" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizEkogoHKqwnu4jnd7GQp-XQ92U3ZIsTfgJBh4cnchjdDO-pg3uBfML_Wl1UabPKy0PXku3skmEuzum5fxaq1cQdqXVvyNWsZDf-m4w7DlewVwS3t10-KW5vcTN51veRR4_ea4OC2Rzx8/s0/harry-waughles+amis+duvins.jpg" width="215" /></a></div><br /><b><span style="color: #073763;">If you never met Harry Waugh, your life has not been as bright as it could have been.</span></b><p></p><p>Harry was a wine legend, a sophisticated connoisseur who began in a wine shop and worked his way to being a buyer, gaining an impressive reputation for his palate. Harry wrote several books on wine that received great acclaim. He founded the Bordeaux Club, the English chapter of Le Compagnons de Beaujolais, the Zinfandel Club, was a member of the Sainsbury Club, the Wine and Food Club, and a long-standing member of the Chateau Latour Board of Directors. Harry was awarded the MBE for his lifetime of influence on wine. No less an eminence than Michael Broadbent claimed Harry had the finest palate he'd ever known.</p><p><i>Harry Waugh is not to be confused with Alec or Auberon, or Peter, and most definitely not to be confused with Evelyn; prolific family, the Waughs, in writing, society and love of wine.</i></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjC6t1PfaGPwQnQEXfRF9cYkPFhYGmbzWsZECPokzQCHrhYaTTJBsLQEm2DX6tVirrxFD2ODb1qtiaz66xGZdFFlwPQ3s0TBnXaokTIHddCFQe7rrB849CuJc-tmSGY2LtrtNQataBS8xQJ6cDVBCuZCzLKkpc1m4OCJfMsBT8cuJ08gHQKGgPTanrN=s267" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="267" data-original-width="200" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjC6t1PfaGPwQnQEXfRF9cYkPFhYGmbzWsZECPokzQCHrhYaTTJBsLQEm2DX6tVirrxFD2ODb1qtiaz66xGZdFFlwPQ3s0TBnXaokTIHddCFQe7rrB849CuJc-tmSGY2LtrtNQataBS8xQJ6cDVBCuZCzLKkpc1m4OCJfMsBT8cuJ08gHQKGgPTanrN" width="200" /></a></div><p><span style="color: #073763;"><b>In the 1980s, I had lunch with Harry</b></span> when he visited Dallas as part of a Chateau Latour showcase tour. So it was just Harry, me, and a bevy of retailers. restaurateurs and Bordeaux collectors sitting at a massive round table in The Mansion at Turtle Creek in Dallas. I was fortunate enough to be seated on Harry's right. We had an epic multi-course lunch paired with a series of Chateau Latour and Les Forts de Latour. It was the kind of lunch that in the retelling almost always elicits the question "How did you get that job? I want that job!!!"</p><p>Harry was as jovial and friendly as could be. There was a joy, a zest, an almost child-like curiosity to the man, accompanied by keen intelligence and a wicked wit. You soon learned he had a vast knowledge of all things wine, especially of his first and enduring love, Bordeaux wine.</p><blockquote><p>Harry verified his now legendary retort to a man who asked him if he had ever mistaken a Burgundy for a Bordeaux. "Not since lunch," twinkled Harry.</p></blockquote><p>With barely restrained glee, Harry had us taste a 1973 Latour while he related the commonly accepted claim that even in "off" years Latour could be---and usually was-- exceptional. After everyone tasted, all nodded in agreement. Harry winked, and said "It'll do in a pinch, eh?'</p><p><b><span style="color: #073763;">The second time I met Harry</span></b> he was on a press junket with the Washington Wine Commission, along with other luminaries such as Bill St. John and Karen MacNeil. It was summer. It was Eastern Washington. And it was blistering hot under a cloudless sky.<br /><br />My wife was then working with the WWC, so Director Simon Siegl asked if she could accompany the journalists for the press tour, as she was quite experienced in handling the press, had been five times president for the Tri-Cities Wine Society as well as Director of the Tri-Cities Visitor's and Convention Bureau, and knew pretty much everything there was to know about Washington wines.</p><p>Towards the end of the tour, Harry had to leave the group to fly down to Southern California to join his family. I got a call asking if I could chauffer Harry to his SeaTac hotel so he could catch an early flight to Southern California. I said I was delighted to do so.<br /><br />Even though Harry was tired---he was then well into his 80s--he was as vivacious as ever. We rollicked along, reminisced, and he regaled me with some apropos assessments of the wines and wineries he had just visited. Within a few minutes we were like old friends reunited. Harry could make you feel that way.</p><p>It was an amazing moment for me. There I was, cruising along with one of the truly great wine writers, a man whose books I read to help me understand and appreciate wine in all its various forms, being educated, informed, entertained, and amused. Harry didn't talk about wine; he merely shared his deep appreciation for wine.<br /><br />Harry passed away at the age of 97 He was gracefully eulogized by another legend, once his protege, Michael Broadbent.<br /><br />I deeply regret not having spent more time with this remarkable man. <br /><br /><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><a href="https://www.decanter.com/wine-news/obituary-harry-waugh-108938/">Decanter Eulogy for Harry Waugh by Michael Broadbent</a></u></span></p><p><a href="https://www.winespectator.com/articles/harry-waugh-british-wine-merchant-and-california-wine-aficionado-dies-at-97-21110">Wine Spectator Obituary for Harry Waugh</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6pWCQDBrErr3Rt1qk61vnnUiW5ceyQm6sJ01SxTzbbVPBR7ivDTm_snE5kF2LvpLbOHsPpdbXjbmIzASL-wQxm1zIAFzB4zwD1UUkmFM0WUr6FdnhOQt-M_CQrx0hYOf-FyKl-etXyD5s6OKeA6fXlW3ui7KBvNOTIfSV-waaXVCPk3NqVmUmyvRU=s375" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="134" data-original-width="375" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6pWCQDBrErr3Rt1qk61vnnUiW5ceyQm6sJ01SxTzbbVPBR7ivDTm_snE5kF2LvpLbOHsPpdbXjbmIzASL-wQxm1zIAFzB4zwD1UUkmFM0WUr6FdnhOQt-M_CQrx0hYOf-FyKl-etXyD5s6OKeA6fXlW3ui7KBvNOTIfSV-waaXVCPk3NqVmUmyvRU=w360-h128" width="360" /></a></div><p>One of the finest testimonials to Harry is the Harry Waugh Dessert Room in Bern's Steak House in Tampa, Florida.</p><p><a href="https://bernssteakhouse.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/HWR-Dessert-Wine.pdf">Harry Waugh Dessert Room</a> <br />(The Dessert Room Wine List is 17 pages long! Many are available in 1.5 ounce pours and small-bottle formats, so this might be a stellar opportunity for you to try some of those wines you thought were out of reach. Canadian Ice Wine? Bern's has ten. Russian Crimean dessert wine? There are five of those. Great Sauternes, Madeira and Ports? Too numerous to count.)</p><p>Bern and Gert Laxer, founders of Bern's Steak House in Tampa, Florida, were traveling in Europe and received an invitation to visit Harry at home. The visit became legend when Harry enthusiastically opened his cellar and began to pull out a stunning array of dessert wines and fine aged brandies. That evening stayed with Bern, and some years later he opened the Harry Waugh Dessert Room.</p><p>Bern's Steak House is not so much a restaurant as it is a three-act play: first the cocktail lounge with stiff drinks, red damask walls, and golden trim; then the main dining room for a lavish dining experience, and finally, the Harry Waugh Dessert Room. For this third and final act your party walks up the grand staircase to the Dessert Room, lined with private booths for intimate groups, serenaded by a grand piano (the pianoman takes requests and seems to know all the tunes.)</p><p>Here, extravagance is an understatement.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi53oMWvLbrjOkfNiNpZE21YxM44RAtcU-Pk3Bt0qBs848LsiW1YrmwwmjWDGJH-Gi4JLioKcEIUndl2TPYwtyCVvWEFp-PUneJtqIAJ_d6-yuKX2rynnaksn_oRduBnLIq6agjcUv0cYmM5BpWJkI8yZQ_y3LW31C-g1HS9KJjb57D4Y-rFhRquKuU=s2000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1367" data-original-width="2000" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi53oMWvLbrjOkfNiNpZE21YxM44RAtcU-Pk3Bt0qBs848LsiW1YrmwwmjWDGJH-Gi4JLioKcEIUndl2TPYwtyCVvWEFp-PUneJtqIAJ_d6-yuKX2rynnaksn_oRduBnLIq6agjcUv0cYmM5BpWJkI8yZQ_y3LW31C-g1HS9KJjb57D4Y-rFhRquKuU=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If--or I should say when--you go to Bern's I suggest<br />the sampler tray, since it allows a luscious taste<br />of some of the finest, all made in house. Be prepared<br />to share it with a friend; but be aware you will<br />likely battle over the last bite of each.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-2572509498944952762021-12-19T17:12:00.001-08:002021-12-19T17:12:39.920-08:00On Depression<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCT0D1qnnT0CkjXDCek75EDXjLKtFLUb9bSVjMlLW7Ja14CmPKIwd0reyxl5PmuCilUayM9yT1r3wNNelb-d5hmvyVZuUo43NH5TsvL3MsUwM1DrlHtcALZJlo-B9vhheJkb_9t8B54CM/s981/68127_depression-quotes-wallpaper.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="981" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCT0D1qnnT0CkjXDCek75EDXjLKtFLUb9bSVjMlLW7Ja14CmPKIwd0reyxl5PmuCilUayM9yT1r3wNNelb-d5hmvyVZuUo43NH5TsvL3MsUwM1DrlHtcALZJlo-B9vhheJkb_9t8B54CM/w326-h400/68127_depression-quotes-wallpaper.jpg" width="326" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #274e13;"><b>Depression can be described in many different ways. <br />This is one way that resounds to me.<br /><br />It's that time of the year. Winter cold, rainy or snowy and bleak, and the ho-ho-holidays which tell you to be cheery and bright when you are decidedly not. That time when you dwell on people who were there but aren't now. When dark falls early and hard and forces you inside...<br />and inside yourself.<br />We're talking about depression</b></span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Few people like talking about depression. Understandable. It's depressing. Even fewer want to talk about their own depression, for fear of revealing things about themselves, or being judged, or being dismissed as weak or somehow flawed.<br /><br />That doesn't concern me much at my age, so I'm going to talk about depression. If you don't want to read it, that's fine. Perhaps it's easier to ignore---although I certainly don't think so.<div><br /></div><div>I've been troubled by depression my entire life. It has always been there. I don't believe I'm unique in that sense; nonetheless, it's my reality. I can chalk some of its manifestations up to my life experiences, how I was raised, how I learned build defenses, etc., but I believe it is something intrinsic in me that has been aggrandized in certain ways.<br /><br />Early on, I learned to develop defense methods for myself---some I favored, others, while effective, felt demeaning and shameful. Much of that I can attribute to being ACoA--Adult Child of Alcoholics---and in particular one violent alcoholic, my father.<br /><br />I was always by nature an observer. Like Chauncey Gardiner, I liked to watch. Unlike Chauncey, though, I wanted to be a vital part of what I watched. Being 'the observer' will distance you, keep you separate from others, give you that feeling of being alone in a crowd.<br /><br />I negotiated with alienation to balance out the dissonance. The original doctors of mental problems were called "Alienists" because they dealt with people who were alienated from their society, family, partner---or themselves. alienation is the root of it all. That feeling of being separate, alone, unable to communicate what you are feeling, unable to explain how you are behaving; that feeling of distance, of not being connected to, valuable to, anyone else: that is what concerns you constantly.</div><div><br /></div><div>Life often feels as if you are constantly learning how to cope. And I was fairly good at that. I reached a crisis point only once in my life. I was divorced, devastated by a marriage that had slowly disintegrated, separated from my children, a failure at fatherhood. I worked for a person I loathed. A friend became a love (THE love), but time, distance, and circumstances apart made that seem impossible now. I was both alone and lonely.</div><div><br /></div><div>My existence consisted of getting out of bed, driving to work, then driving home without recalling anything I had done all day, and going to bed. Everything else I suppressed. The most difficult things I tried to enclose into cysts to muffle the pain.</div><div><br /></div><div>I longed for numbness, the negation, the null of the void.</div><div><br />Until then I had managed a convincing facade, a mask of an easy-going, even amiable person. In my crisis, I could no longer do that. My condition became obvious to everyone, yet I could not summon up the energy to disguise it.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">There is no pain, you are receding</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">A distant ship, smoke on the horizon</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">You are only coming through in waves</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">When I was a child</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">I caught a fleeting glimpse</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">Out of the corner of my eye</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">I turned to look but it was gone</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">I cannot put my finger on it now</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">The child is grown</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">The dream is gone</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /></span></b><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #274e13;">I have become comfortably numb<br />Pink Floyd</span></b><br /><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>I surrendered to the numbness, The majority of my day was sleeping. The rest of it was performing rote tasks, going through motions, filling the time. I prepared food I wasn't interested in and couldn't taste. Had conversations I forgot before I hung up the phone. For the first time in my life, I could not read. I'd stare at a page, see words that didn't register, and find myself parsing through every sentence to string those words together so they meant something, only to find myself reading the same sentence again, and again, and again with little comprehension.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9RaxmNGvRapE9XlLVCiypK2ItTiSnBONkTLTQofKgeHDRQI4eP0MnEGclrEl0m2NbjssOkPYcLfyzb2gg2xs7ToBIuC9WLgk2F3nqizWKeyGc1pZ7TX67fno-8-zy5OmqQWRT157oqM/s318/plathqyote.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="159" data-original-width="318" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9RaxmNGvRapE9XlLVCiypK2ItTiSnBONkTLTQofKgeHDRQI4eP0MnEGclrEl0m2NbjssOkPYcLfyzb2gg2xs7ToBIuC9WLgk2F3nqizWKeyGc1pZ7TX67fno-8-zy5OmqQWRT157oqM/s0/plathqyote.jpeg" width="318" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Sylvia Plath</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br />I could still listen to music, but only if it was loud. And only certain kinds---Don Henley, Cowboy Junkies, Pink Floyd, and for some reason I never truly fathomed, the Eric Clapton compendium album of his (then) amazing career, which of course was only in mid-stride.<br /><br />The recurring feeling I had was entirely common to depressives: when you are in depression, there is no start, no finish. There's no until. No after. There's only the emptiness of now; the eternal moment of now. Entropy does not exist. Time is devoid of meaning. What you feel you will always feel; all else are faint echoes, fleeting glimpses.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhusmJ8ngw4HWvlPi2vN7LzDtBrKNUJSgkyvHgz1FrRn8vK-An9qBumHp6BTAkfn2t6E7Y_X_NCv2OeK2qP_KwYvqUMaVMhHIJIVSbke-DvLR7fbQhhl8GTMHB7OxCbttMaaMe5KMrcviQ/s268/plath.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="188" data-original-width="268" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhusmJ8ngw4HWvlPi2vN7LzDtBrKNUJSgkyvHgz1FrRn8vK-An9qBumHp6BTAkfn2t6E7Y_X_NCv2OeK2qP_KwYvqUMaVMhHIJIVSbke-DvLR7fbQhhl8GTMHB7OxCbttMaaMe5KMrcviQ/w400-h281/plath.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>I got through it. I built a new life. A good one.</div><div><br /></div><div>Some years later, a doctor prescribed anti-depressants and that made a great difference. I take them to this day. They do not eliminate depression; they help keep me in balance. I remained cautious, approachable but guarded. A later boss called me aloof. I was what my doctor diagnosed as a "high-functioning depressive." I was quiet and, yes, aloof, but could come alive when teaching, selling or making presentations. I was performing.<br /><br />But that was okay. I was in balance. There was the public me and the private me, the introvert and the extrovert.<br /><br />It turns out Plato's metaphoric explanation of human nature was brilliant in its simplicity. You know, the one about the chariot with the black horse and the white horse? It's always about balance.</div><div><br /></div><div>Each day is a balancing act.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-49203453788064257012021-11-23T11:36:00.001-08:002021-11-28T16:56:49.747-08:00Mi Roti Caribbean Street Food<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnVEucKWwpUmpWuGe5b4O1H8qt-PJngykcg8-IQFOnS5tH3XpAaGHb9M-tUQ4fjkJaOEQQ-NoSqCJRfpBb1BIgm26BISES-JyTBCAcjUkN_TO7uZxJL8101taKN4zCM8le_JSTWWccZQ/s225/download.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnVEucKWwpUmpWuGe5b4O1H8qt-PJngykcg8-IQFOnS5tH3XpAaGHb9M-tUQ4fjkJaOEQQ-NoSqCJRfpBb1BIgm26BISES-JyTBCAcjUkN_TO7uZxJL8101taKN4zCM8le_JSTWWccZQ/w200-h200/download.png" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">For a large part of its history, San Antonio was not exactly heralded as a culinary Mecca. Not that there wasn’t good food there, but once you got past the Tex-Mex joints, the barbecue (which in Texas mostly means beef and hot links), and the obligatory over-abundance of steak houses, you got pretty slim pickings. Oh sure, there was the usual sprinkling of Chinese, Italian and German, those because of the land grants to German immigrants to the Texas Hill Country in the 1840s; their descendants still have an impact on the local food scene.</span></div><p><br /></p><p>Beyond that, there just wasn’t a lot of diversity. But that changed. San Antonio grew. The World Fair, swanking up the formerly slightly skeevy and at times dangerous Riverwalk, acquiring a sports franchise—-San Antone grew to be a hustle-bustle bidness town. </p><p>With the massive influx of people, the restaurant scene got pretty dynamic. First came the food carts. A taco truck on every corner? Hell yes, bring it! Then some exotic ethnic fare began to pop up. Then came an explosion of different cuisines--Vietnamese, Thai, Indian, Peruvian, African, Jamaican Jerk, and on and on.</p><p>There's a little flavor of a lot of cultures in one of the fusion crossroads of the world... </p><p></p><h1 style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">CARIBBEAN STREET </span>FOOD!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs62gDvqHzhFtR0tWt3WBUs8lUSJeUT8idix0MLcRvsPDhIOLRlZ4U4Wr4gOlaPW65CtXDqnGYhBFO2SPqcbbxsjpkuWtZD6FH7AMkP_MIebNeWNY_ga2gTRjVoSbZTbJ9kP9a1TBtzi8/s225/download.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs62gDvqHzhFtR0tWt3WBUs8lUSJeUT8idix0MLcRvsPDhIOLRlZ4U4Wr4gOlaPW65CtXDqnGYhBFO2SPqcbbxsjpkuWtZD6FH7AMkP_MIebNeWNY_ga2gTRjVoSbZTbJ9kP9a1TBtzi8/s0/download.png" width="225" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>(Roti is the common flatbread in the Caribbean, similar to pita or chapatties.)</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">I came across this place at the Food Hall in the Pearl Center District in San Antonio. Lots of places to choose from, but this one drew me to it.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi42HjKk8A0EQaBUaFnBM_Vsh6dFEPU8E4-orZokWD2b2hn1TWFyBOlngH3JabMxAOlG9xpqgM01cz194EhFNRA3PiFimTYtiZmpcZrb8Dc2E49o5LK62D8YVVTQE2qlIkBdOTOigCfKcI/s612/roti+menu.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="367" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi42HjKk8A0EQaBUaFnBM_Vsh6dFEPU8E4-orZokWD2b2hn1TWFyBOlngH3JabMxAOlG9xpqgM01cz194EhFNRA3PiFimTYtiZmpcZrb8Dc2E49o5LK62D8YVVTQE2qlIkBdOTOigCfKcI/w240-h400/roti+menu.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.miroti210.com/">Click here for the Mi Roti</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.miroti210.com/">Website link.</a></div><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div></h1><h3 class="preSlide slideIn" style="color: black; font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-style: normal; font-weight: 700; letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3216; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; opacity: 1; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transform: translate(0px, 0px); transition: transform 0.8s ease 0.212308s, opacity 0s ease 0s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: small;">At first Glance this
may look Complicated
But it's not!</span></h3><div><span style="font-size: small;">It's easy. Really. And fun.<br /><br />Just follow the Four Steps to build your </span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;">own exotic wrap or bowl of tasty, spicy,<br />tantalizing Caribbean Street Food.<br /><br />Here, let's break it down for you,<br />step by step.</span></div><h3 class="preSlide slideIn" style="color: black; font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(1.68vw + 1rem); font-style: normal; font-weight: 700; letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3216; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; opacity: 1; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transform: translate(0px, 0px); transition: transform 0.8s ease 0.212308s, opacity 0s ease 0s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></h3><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><h3 class="preSlide slideIn" style="color: black; font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(1.68vw + 1rem); font-style: normal; font-weight: 700; letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3216; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; opacity: 1; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transform: translate(0px, 0px); transition: transform 0.8s ease 0.212308s, opacity 0s ease 0s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: calc(1.68vw + 1rem); letter-spacing: 0em;">STEP 1</span></h3><h4 class="preFade fadeIn" style="color: #f91413; font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(0.36vw + 1rem); font-style: normal; font-weight: 700; letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3832; margin: 2rem 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.221538s; white-space: pre-wrap;">CHOOSE ROTI WRAP OR BOWL
<em style="background-color: white; font-size: 19.384px; font-weight: 500; overflow-wrap: break-word;">Add Roti for $1</em></h4><h1 style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="row sqs-row" style="background-color: white; font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: 19.384px; font-weight: 500; width: auto;"><div class="col sqs-col-6 span-6" style="float: left; width: 524.609px;"><div class="sqs-block html-block sqs-block-html" data-block-type="2" id="block-yui_3_17_2_1_1595882951812_10097" style="clear: none; height: auto; padding: 17px; position: relative;"><div class="sqs-block-content" style="outline: none;"><p class="preFade fadeIn" style="margin: 0px 0px 1rem; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.24s; white-space: pre-wrap;">Proteins</p><p class="sqsrte-small preFade fadeIn" style="font-size: calc(0vw + 1rem); margin: 1rem 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.249231s; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jerk Chicken | Grilled Chicken | Butter Chicken<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" />$12</p><p class="sqsrte-small preFade fadeIn" style="font-size: calc(0vw + 1rem); margin: 1rem 0px 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.258462s; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pepper Shrimp | Grilled Steak | Pork Belly<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" />$14</p></div></div></div><div class="col sqs-col-6 span-6" style="float: left; padding-right: 0px; width: 524.609px;"><div class="sqs-block html-block sqs-block-html" data-block-type="2" id="block-yui_3_17_2_1_1595882951812_11914" style="clear: none; height: auto; padding: 17px; position: relative;"><div class="sqs-block-content" style="outline: none;"><p class="preFade fadeIn" style="margin: 0px 0px 1rem; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.267692s; white-space: pre-wrap;">Vegetarian</p><p class="sqsrte-small preFade fadeIn" style="font-size: calc(0vw + 1rem); margin: 1rem 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.276923s; white-space: pre-wrap;">Spicy Creamy Coconut Spinach<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" />$12</p><p class="sqsrte-small preFade fadeIn" style="font-size: calc(0vw + 1rem); margin: 1rem 0px 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.286154s; white-space: pre-wrap;">Curry Chickpeas w/ Potatoes<br style="overflow-wrap: break-word;" />$12</p></div></div></div></div></div></h1><h3 class="preSlide slideIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(1.68vw + 1rem); letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3216; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; opacity: 1; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transform: translate(0px, 0px); transition: transform 0.8s ease 0.295385s, opacity 0s ease 0s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></h3><h3 class="preSlide slideIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(1.68vw + 1rem); letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3216; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; opacity: 1; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transform: translate(0px, 0px); transition: transform 0.8s ease 0.295385s, opacity 0s ease 0s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></h3><h3 class="preSlide slideIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(1.68vw + 1rem); letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3216; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; opacity: 1; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transform: translate(0px, 0px); transition: transform 0.8s ease 0.295385s, opacity 0s ease 0s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></h3><h3 class="preSlide slideIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(1.68vw + 1rem); letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3216; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; opacity: 1; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transform: translate(0px, 0px); transition: transform 0.8s ease 0.295385s, opacity 0s ease 0s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></h3><h3 class="preSlide slideIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(1.68vw + 1rem); letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3216; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; opacity: 1; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transform: translate(0px, 0px); transition: transform 0.8s ease 0.295385s, opacity 0s ease 0s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></h3><h3 class="preSlide slideIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(1.68vw + 1rem); letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3216; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; opacity: 1; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transform: translate(0px, 0px); transition: transform 0.8s ease 0.295385s, opacity 0s ease 0s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></h3><h3 class="preSlide slideIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(1.68vw + 1rem); letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3216; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; opacity: 1; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transform: translate(0px, 0px); transition: transform 0.8s ease 0.295385s, opacity 0s ease 0s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0em;">
STEP 2</span></h3><h4 class="preFade fadeIn" style="color: #f91413; font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(0.36vw + 1rem); letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3832; margin: 2rem 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.304615s; white-space: pre-wrap;">CHOOSE RICE</h4><h1 style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="sqs-block html-block sqs-block-html" data-block-type="2" id="block-yui_3_17_2_1_1595882951812_24394" style="background-color: white; clear: none; font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: 19.384px; font-weight: 500; height: auto; padding: 17px; position: relative;"><div class="sqs-block-content" style="outline: none;"><p class="sqsrte-large preFade fadeIn" style="font-size: calc(0.48vw + 1rem); margin: 1rem 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.313846s; white-space: pre-wrap;">Coconut | Cilantro Lime | Brown</p></div></div></div></h1><h3 class="preSlide slideIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(1.68vw + 1rem); letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3216; margin: 2rem 0px; opacity: 1; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transform: translate(0px, 0px); transition: transform 0.8s ease 0.323077s, opacity 0s ease 0s; white-space: pre-wrap;">STEP 3</h3><h4 class="preFade fadeIn" style="color: #f91413; font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(0.36vw + 1rem); letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3832; margin: 2rem 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.332308s; white-space: pre-wrap;">CHOOSE TOPPINGS (UP TO 5)</h4><h1 style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="sqs-block html-block sqs-block-html" data-block-type="2" style="background-color: white; clear: none; font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: 19.384px; font-weight: 500; height: auto; padding: 17px; position: relative;"><div class="sqs-block-content" style="outline: none;"><p class="sqsrte-large preFade fadeIn" style="font-size: calc(0.48vw + 1rem); margin: 1rem 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.341538s; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cilantro | Green Onion | Crispy Shallots | Roasted Corn | Tomato Slices | Roasted Brussel Sprouts | Sauteed Onions & Peppers | Pickled Red Onions | Shredded Cabbage | Shredded Cheese | Cucumber Slices | Jalepeño Slices | Shredded Carrots</p></div></div></div></h1><h3 class="preSlide slideIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(1.68vw + 1rem); letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3216; margin: 2rem 0px; opacity: 1; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transform: translate(0px, 0px); transition: transform 0.8s ease 0.350769s, opacity 0s ease 0s; white-space: pre-wrap;">STEP 4</h3><h4 class="preFade fadeIn" style="color: #f91413; font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(0.36vw + 1rem); letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3832; margin: 2rem 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.36s; white-space: pre-wrap;">CHOOSE SAUCES (UP TO 2)</h4><h1 style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="sqs-block html-block sqs-block-html" data-block-type="2" style="background-color: white; clear: none; font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: 19.384px; font-weight: 500; height: auto; padding: 17px; position: relative;"><div class="sqs-block-content" style="outline: none;"><p class="preFade fadeIn" style="margin: 1rem 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.369231s; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mango Chutney | Hot Pepper | Chimichurri | Garlic | Avocado Cream</p><p class="preFade fadeIn" style="margin: 1rem 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.378462s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><em style="overflow-wrap: break-word;">No sauces on the side</em></p></div></div></div></h1><h3 class="preSlide slideIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: calc(1.68vw + 1rem); letter-spacing: 0em; line-height: 1.3216; margin: 2rem 0px; opacity: 1; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; transform: translate(0px, 0px); transition: transform 0.8s ease 0.387692s, opacity 0s ease 0s; white-space: pre-wrap;">SIDES (CHOOSE 1)
<span style="font-weight: 400;">Masala Fries
Red Beans
Plantains</span></h3><h1 style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="sqs-block html-block sqs-block-html" data-block-type="2" style="background-color: white; clear: none; height: auto; padding: 17px; position: relative;"><div class="sqs-block-content" style="outline: none;"><div style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: 19.384px; font-weight: 500; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 19.384px;">Now tell me that's not enticing! You get a main, an incredible assortment of tasty toppings to choose from, three choices of rice, and two sauces--and you get it just the way you want it! </span></div><div style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: 19.384px; font-weight: 500; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div><span face="franklin-gothic-urw" style="font-size: 19.384px; font-weight: 500; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 19.384px;">I had the curry chickpeas and potatoes, not because I'm a vegetarian but because I like curry chickpeas and potatoes (a very Indian dish). And, no, it wasn't mouth scorching hot, although you can make it so if you wish. I tend to load up on the toppings because I like a lot of flavors.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 19.384px;">Mi Roti easily one of the best "fast food" meals I have ever had.</span></div></span><p class="preFade fadeIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: 19.384px; margin: 1rem 0px 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.396923s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 19.384px;"><span style="color: #990000;">Two very important notes:
</span><span style="font-weight: 500;">
</span><span>1. Masala Fries</span></span></p><p class="preFade fadeIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: 19.384px; font-weight: 500; margin: 1rem 0px 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.396923s; white-space: pre-wrap;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB42Xm4qALOTbnD8nFl7a6dQuS0ybna1CA4HAX2ttZlpPSHpgcGMQTXnHLoCTqgK1tcOkEQ3CK_gsa19lfK9FFyBJEW2-CJS9DPC8tjqlgquLPbQA8zjDH8mIrNpf5j-QD1K2g7fC9WYw/s300/mi-roti-fries-san-antonio-39.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="300" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB42Xm4qALOTbnD8nFl7a6dQuS0ybna1CA4HAX2ttZlpPSHpgcGMQTXnHLoCTqgK1tcOkEQ3CK_gsa19lfK9FFyBJEW2-CJS9DPC8tjqlgquLPbQA8zjDH8mIrNpf5j-QD1K2g7fC9WYw/s0/mi-roti-fries-san-antonio-39.png" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763;">Do yourself a favor and order these fries!</span></b><br />Crispy-crunchy and dusted with Za'atar (an<br />Asian/Levantine spice with sumac, dried oregano, thyme, marjoram <br />and toasted sesame seed. It makes for a tasty bunch of fries.</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: 19.384px;"><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 19.384px;">2. Fried Plantains</span></div></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-_8xcJkUqs7o8F4hFSqS7c16uy6WEm3uBmyGDt2h72L1IZ_-fiZyRWuwg0Vh3-oEYZga0pSOmL5mZe1Gv8wZCL9uWs76Uf52mJmjFrdZPFHu0NUQT14kYkVMRWQ3jXO0WaNy_IPxU0CU/s251/mirotiplaintains.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="251" data-original-width="201" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-_8xcJkUqs7o8F4hFSqS7c16uy6WEm3uBmyGDt2h72L1IZ_-fiZyRWuwg0Vh3-oEYZga0pSOmL5mZe1Gv8wZCL9uWs76Uf52mJmjFrdZPFHu0NUQT14kYkVMRWQ3jXO0WaNy_IPxU0CU/w320-h400/mirotiplaintains.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763;">Order the Mi Roti Plantains!</span></b><br />If you don't know plantains, they are a staple in<br />Caribbean cuisine. They look like small green<br />bananas---but they are not. They are meaty and<br />delicious when sauteed or fried. <br />I love plantains and order them whenever they're on the menu. </td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="preFade fadeIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: 19.384px; font-weight: 500; margin: 1rem 0px 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.396923s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 19.384px;"><br /></span></p><p class="preFade fadeIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: 19.384px; font-weight: 500; margin: 1rem 0px 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.396923s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 19.384px;"><br /></span></p><p class="preFade fadeIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: 19.384px; font-weight: 500; margin: 1rem 0px 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.396923s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 19.384px;"><br /></span></p><p class="preFade fadeIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: 19.384px; font-weight: 500; margin: 1rem 0px 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.396923s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 19.384px;"><br /></span></p><p class="preFade fadeIn" style="font-family: franklin-gothic-urw; font-size: 19.384px; font-weight: 500; margin: 1rem 0px 0px; opacity: 1; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: center; transition: opacity 0.8s ease 0.396923s; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /><span style="font-size: 19.384px;"><br /> </span></p></div></div></div></h1><p></p>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-83157859224436455502021-11-12T13:09:00.000-08:002021-11-12T13:09:16.315-08:00Kudos: Hotel Emma’s Wine Shortlist is Impressive<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><b><span style="color: #073763;">Kudos to the Beverage Program at the Hotel Emma, Pearl District, San Antonio. </span></b><br /><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIUqW5BuDxtdBVDie8BEtLQjPg2V1L5serzYsZfsAMyXYvWrlG6gvX8IbGgGg07cBs9NyobANnRVs2_0kJ5IvbPqhgaMmn89zipcc0Uv-JkHVa4EhdBdZ0Oukf4K5wQc3MT4QCVze23pI/s1024/9D994F6D-3B6F-4245-ACA2-04D4642111DA.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="678" data-original-width="1024" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIUqW5BuDxtdBVDie8BEtLQjPg2V1L5serzYsZfsAMyXYvWrlG6gvX8IbGgGg07cBs9NyobANnRVs2_0kJ5IvbPqhgaMmn89zipcc0Uv-JkHVa4EhdBdZ0Oukf4K5wQc3MT4QCVze23pI/w400-h265/9D994F6D-3B6F-4245-ACA2-04D4642111DA.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hotel Emma, Pearl District, San Antonio<br />(CC-Katie Hoagland Bowen)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Sternewirth Tavern & Club has a remarkably good wine shortlist and the signature cocktails are superb, even bordering on genius.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-cbEioaH5pk3qSTMJmSFbsBjiBbYjv1ax3RENEb1XoMwGyyjV-XA6tVH2W2gZ693wm6lrKuhY9mB46vuWOtWaFLNj_vYfgvsZaGzUC4r6TNTlircU_GCL3k1IBBcPMvkC-xjqwCWG3fk/s334/69CD4438-715B-4F23-A577-4E7C428AD690.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="128" data-original-width="334" height="123" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-cbEioaH5pk3qSTMJmSFbsBjiBbYjv1ax3RENEb1XoMwGyyjV-XA6tVH2W2gZ693wm6lrKuhY9mB46vuWOtWaFLNj_vYfgvsZaGzUC4r6TNTlircU_GCL3k1IBBcPMvkC-xjqwCWG3fk/s320/69CD4438-715B-4F23-A577-4E7C428AD690.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />As my son informed me, "Tourists crowd the Riverwalk. San Antonians go to the Pearl." And so it appeared to be. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We sat on the patio watching the throngs of people enjoying the Pearl Brewery Green, surrounded by the old limestone-block brewery, stylish shops, deluxe condos, street food vendors and the impressive Five Star Hotel Emma.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA48MuKPYvXjoqDnwt6rAmRMKBt1rt3cFgWXjAkg03r7CHTgLHAdvnUxCMnPT3HujvvOD5eucgRq3hSOJvjhh3lUlfFwF3A1ArlSGu33NCFv8rnLFnsBnf2DYY4xD_xjCykn1tZ2_XTSY/s2048/87A7E963-D19F-4D0B-B690-23D4BF6DFBE4.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA48MuKPYvXjoqDnwt6rAmRMKBt1rt3cFgWXjAkg03r7CHTgLHAdvnUxCMnPT3HujvvOD5eucgRq3hSOJvjhh3lUlfFwF3A1ArlSGu33NCFv8rnLFnsBnf2DYY4xD_xjCykn1tZ2_XTSY/s320/87A7E963-D19F-4D0B-B690-23D4BF6DFBE4.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQjppktoBtQ0NGGY_thw0Ik3pX1GouQGRHNO0KiDetr_kAsaGtxECvz8d9dROlOyYal-ti5XgJLU7jBQr1q0e6XunmXGpllwnktvncHUDKv5XLL5QwI9K9iq8KGFnrMQb_BK5BpH28PDY/s2048/D3962953-D26E-4D60-85DC-C0A36C819534.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQjppktoBtQ0NGGY_thw0Ik3pX1GouQGRHNO0KiDetr_kAsaGtxECvz8d9dROlOyYal-ti5XgJLU7jBQr1q0e6XunmXGpllwnktvncHUDKv5XLL5QwI9K9iq8KGFnrMQb_BK5BpH28PDY/s320/D3962953-D26E-4D60-85DC-C0A36C819534.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Creating a top-notch wine shortlist is one of the greatest challenges a sommelier can take on. Within a very few wines you must offer a selection that promotes high quality, style, and enticing choices that will appeal to, and satisfy, a wide range of wine drinkers, from neophytes to connoisseurs. Trust me; this is not an easy task.</p><p>The Hotel Emma/Sternewirth Tavern absolutely nails it! For a shortlist, this is one of the finest I've ever seen. It has diversity, broad scope, a truly impressive range of varieties, styles, regions and producers, while still being lean and mean. Every selection shows outstanding knowledge and sophistication. It contains some delightful 'discoveries' and encourages exploration. Finally, the restaurant staff are well trained and helpful. They know their wines and are happy to talk about them.</p><p><br /></p><p>If you live in or near San Antonio, or even if you don't, figure out how to get there so you can sample the delights of the Pearl and Hotel Emma. It'll be worth your while</p><p><span style="color: #073763;">WINE</span></p><p><span style="color: #073763;">Anne Amie Pinot Gris, Willamette Valley, Oregon...11 / 17 / 55</span></p><p><span style="color: #073763;">Chalone Chardonnay, Chalone AVA, California...15 / 24 / 75</span></p><p><span style="color: #073763;">Long Shadows Riesling, 'Poet's Leap', Columbia Valley, Washington...12 / 19 / 60 </span></p><p><span style="color: #073763;">Mt. Beautiful Sauvignon Blanc, North Canterbury, New Zealand...12 / 19 / 60</span></p><p><span style="color: #073763;">Stolpman Roussanne, Santa Barbara, California...14 / 22 / 70</span></p><p><span style="color: #073763;">Argyle Sparkling White, Willamette Valley, Oregon...14 / 22 / 70</span></p><p><span style="color: #073763;">Badenhorst Secateurs Rosé, Swartland, South Africa...10 / 16 / 50</span></p><p><span style="color: #073763;">Gloria Ferrer Blanc de Noir Rosé, Carneros, California...14 / 22 / 70</span></p><p><span style="color: #073763;">Marsuret, Prosecco Extra Dry, Treviso, Italy...12 / 19 / 60 </span></p><p><span style="color: #073763;">Browne Family Malbec, Columbia Valley, Washington...15 / 24 / 75</span></p><p><span style="color: #073763;">Daou Cabernet Sauvignon, Paso Robles, California...13 / 21 / 65 </span></p><p><span style="color: #073763;">Goldschmidt Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon, Yardstick, Napa Valley...17 / 27 / 85 </span></p><p><span style="color: #073763;">Guido Porro, V. Pari, Dolcetto d' Alba, Piedmont, Italy...11 / 17 / 55 </span></p><p><span style="color: #073763;">Yount Mill House Pinot Noir, Carneros, California...13 / 21 / 65</span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-78971112313096669262021-11-09T23:44:00.000-08:002021-11-09T23:44:26.116-08:00My Life In Cars, Part V: 1990--Present Day<h2 style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #073763;">The End of of One Century, The Beginning of Another</span></b></h2><div> </div><div>1990 was another year of change, my ritual casting away of all I had achieved to start anew. I got divorced, went through a crucible of depression, resigned my executive position, got rid of most of my possessions, and drove away without looking back. </div><div><br /><div>As my time in Texas came to an end, and I left to pursue the woman who is the love of my life, I disposed of most of my worldly goods, gave myself a party, acquired a Ford Tempo (Thanks, Brother who is always there when needed0, hooked up the smallest U-Haul trailer they had, and began my journey to Washington state.</div><div><br /></div><div>That Tempo. It was only a four-cylinder, and it already had many miles on it, but it was a sturdy little thing, willing to do whatever I asked it to do. It was dependable for several years...after we bonded during a trying transit from Texas to the Pacific Northwest.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZxMeVv3ay3VMQvgkcM-dwMJUdhAFcFlFF2g-Bb-MT6xd4mtzDdzTaBM6vYEU_5QyvE9lyaiLuW1d0OnY0Ouo4kImnSdg9XDyxdoxXNUD9T4ONc_wv9fKdNkc8tEDqqnsHx0sGEecQxE0/s500/Ford+Tempo.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="500" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZxMeVv3ay3VMQvgkcM-dwMJUdhAFcFlFF2g-Bb-MT6xd4mtzDdzTaBM6vYEU_5QyvE9lyaiLuW1d0OnY0Ouo4kImnSdg9XDyxdoxXNUD9T4ONc_wv9fKdNkc8tEDqqnsHx0sGEecQxE0/w500-h316/Ford+Tempo.JPG" width="500" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I set out, only slightly hungover, on a blistering hot Sunday morning in August with the intention of doing a Gumball Rally-styled run diagonally across the country. Heh.</div><div><br /></div><div>All was well for a few miles. Then, the engine began to cough and buck, sputtered, then died completely. I did not know what to do. Checked everything out and then just sat and waited in the blinding sun of a Texas summer. After a few minutes, I tried the key again. It started up almost immediately.</div><div><br /></div><div>Breathing a sigh of relief, hoping for the best, I drove on. Ten miles later, the car coughed politely and died again.Waited. Started. Went.</div><div><br /></div><div>I turned off the air conditioner in case the heat and pulling a trailer were putting too great a strain on the car. But another ten miles and *Cough*…Stop…Wait.</div><div><br /></div><div>There were no cell phones then. Wi-fi didn't exist. The highway was almost deserted. The temperature was well over 100F. 90% of the gas stations were closed, and those that were open had no mechanics, just cashiers. So ten miles at a time, I sweated my way to Wichita Falls and parked all night in front of the Ford Service Center, which would open the next morning.</div><div><br /></div><div>Diagnosis? Simple, really, and not too expensive to correct. The Tempo had two fuel pumps, one in the gas tank, and one near the engine. Front gas pump? Easy to replace. But that wasn't the problem. The rear gas tank pump was malfunctioning. The tank had to be drained of gas, pulled out, dismantled, pump replaced and re-filled with fuel. Which was going to take most of the day.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkRG50zZxRB21v6jjMtuTrtwos00TqARcfee5H4u-zrM4JoNHNe2MxS0p3mU16Pemv8aUg2s6JZRuCDE0L7ysyKAGE4idswnKPQKufFdYQh7H8ZYnhJCi-ZNK6eQLuu-_YK3Z6H_dIWqs/s580/Wishita+Falls+circa+late+70s.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="367" data-original-width="580" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkRG50zZxRB21v6jjMtuTrtwos00TqARcfee5H4u-zrM4JoNHNe2MxS0p3mU16Pemv8aUg2s6JZRuCDE0L7ysyKAGE4idswnKPQKufFdYQh7H8ZYnhJCi-ZNK6eQLuu-_YK3Z6H_dIWqs/s320/Wishita+Falls+circa+late+70s.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><b>Wichita Falls, late 1970s</b></span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Wichita Falls was a nice enough town---barring tornadoes---but to borrow from a movie, I had a long way to go and a short time to get there. I put Wichita Falls in my rear view mirror that evening, fixed with the firm desire to keep plowing along and just.get.there. Sort of a Blues Brothers-on-a-mission frenzy, I suppose. So I drove through the rest of Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, Wyoming, Idaho, came down Dead Man's Pass, crossed the Columbia and up to the Tri-Cities of Eastern Washington.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH1XRFOJzRcY65tuAxu4UXVJMyOg18b3-4AkU8FKX3Nn_1U-OBpjcYXV4TIUY0ITqLL769B3bGRwJS-3uKe7zIhdeIJLc-i5sy2d0eApjSft2UR5k0BPhs3Lcb6AHxfoWCe7VxzhFgoZY/s318/Deadman+pass.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="258" data-original-width="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH1XRFOJzRcY65tuAxu4UXVJMyOg18b3-4AkU8FKX3Nn_1U-OBpjcYXV4TIUY0ITqLL769B3bGRwJS-3uKe7zIhdeIJLc-i5sy2d0eApjSft2UR5k0BPhs3Lcb6AHxfoWCe7VxzhFgoZY/" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#b51200">Cabbage Hill, Dead Man's Pass, Oregon<br /></font></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Dead Man's Pass, as it goes through the Rockies, into Oregon, seems easy at first...until you realize you have to do a long steep climb up the mountain, followed by a longer descent with a 6% grade. In a small 4 cylinder car towing a trailer. You don't think you'll ever make it up the hill, and then you're afraid you won't survive going down the hill. But I did.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then it was over the mighty Columbia and up to the Tri-Cities. I was there.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><h1 style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #073763;"><b>A new chapter began.</b></span></h1>I needed a job. Got plenty of job offers, but none of them happened to be where I wanted to be: Seattle. So I talked my way into a new wine division as a salesperson. My new love was furious. "That is so far beneath who you are and what you do. Keep looking and find something better." I argued that a job was a job and you gave it your best.<br /><br />So I took the job. They gave me a company car, and guess what? It was a Chevy Cavalier Wagon. Um, okay.<br /><br />After a few months, a position came open at Brown-Forman; they had created a wine division and needed a Market Manager for the Pacific Northwest, the Mountain States, and Alaska.<br /><br />I started out with spare fleet cars---a Buick, a Taurus---then got to order a car of my choice.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVGBYrDVCzb-ebLFeIDWbf5ZucC3N8CkPS3D6yOs0k1uCvLuIZeheFxeiC9qJ295mVB81jXHfCGvtPwSiSfKUvdCLZYmW3jLFhwf-YOeDaBdAni5rF9B3zV2XTOVh6AtH40l23RGKPSVo/s640/spec_be7b59e9-e645-4663-8328-c3a42d8c7f5a_640_0.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="640" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVGBYrDVCzb-ebLFeIDWbf5ZucC3N8CkPS3D6yOs0k1uCvLuIZeheFxeiC9qJ295mVB81jXHfCGvtPwSiSfKUvdCLZYmW3jLFhwf-YOeDaBdAni5rF9B3zV2XTOVh6AtH40l23RGKPSVo/s320/spec_be7b59e9-e645-4663-8328-c3a42d8c7f5a_640_0.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763;">Ford Taurus Wagon</span></b><br />A humble family wagon...but I loved the smooth<br />design. 3.0L engine, easy ride...perfect for hauling<br />lots of cases of wine.<br /><br />I was promoted into Brand Management and relocated to Louisville. It was a projected three-year posting so I did a simple three-year lease.<br /><br /><b><span style="color: #073763;">Ford Escort Wagon XL</span></b></td></tr></tbody></table> We liked the Ford Taurus my wife owned, so we decided to stay with Ford, but downsize. It was basic. Absolutely nothing special about it. But it was comfortable, had no problems, was utterly dependable and sturdy as hell.<br /><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUalHShb3DF0ILypZmHX28zw70XtfsOAElI27Q_PrD4cR1Qna1M4ARBm2QnjVoaGIjzogX5FNSh30zMSSelzSVZj-9WkeKlJbaCvx4SUMPKM9W3I-hrTHv1b2ePMTFdsfP01ASRCFhF1A/s320/Escort+wagon.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="320" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUalHShb3DF0ILypZmHX28zw70XtfsOAElI27Q_PrD4cR1Qna1M4ARBm2QnjVoaGIjzogX5FNSh30zMSSelzSVZj-9WkeKlJbaCvx4SUMPKM9W3I-hrTHv1b2ePMTFdsfP01ASRCFhF1A/s0/Escort+wagon.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>Corporate re-org time and high-paid consultants shuffled everything around. You know the drill. I got another promotion to National Field Marketing, relocated to California and got another company car.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgITO0P5qFnlbWJrHkelutFh6xqpbXyq_iq4P24SfFSSruiK9lv6bTlgd6MNVKsE6pnNJervhShuvmP3ACJ8-78Fdk-D7oVomMMfFwZUVP4Lj-wjR9vOYuTZDjsUrMybEolVkSTX-j_dE8/s1280/2000+ford+escape.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="782" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgITO0P5qFnlbWJrHkelutFh6xqpbXyq_iq4P24SfFSSruiK9lv6bTlgd6MNVKsE6pnNJervhShuvmP3ACJ8-78Fdk-D7oVomMMfFwZUVP4Lj-wjR9vOYuTZDjsUrMybEolVkSTX-j_dE8/s320/2000+ford+escape.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><font color="#3367d6">2000 Ford Escape XLT 6</font></b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><div style="text-align: center;">Started out as a company car, but I liked it so much, I bought it when the</div><div style="text-align: center;">lease ran out. One of the first off the line. It was the 6 cylinder (which was good), but FWD (I preferred AWD, but that wasn't an option). Still, nicely designed and well-executed. When it began to age and I realized I could drive whatever car I wanted, I traded for...</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9m7u29g6FiATDQ6bzi30ICRJNDH-kqUn4VGl5IUD-6ZAHDwxdAIL1uTMUXUXxdSOePQGK4pw1oZ9z1B-IqSVneNlplp4-JjIKfjWuhBTBBbSgx2sqd-o_prvaj-VmxjYvPhFMP-AgKCk/s940/2000_toyota_mr2_spyder_1564777576fcd208IMG_0054-e1566565759548.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="626" data-original-width="940" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9m7u29g6FiATDQ6bzi30ICRJNDH-kqUn4VGl5IUD-6ZAHDwxdAIL1uTMUXUXxdSOePQGK4pw1oZ9z1B-IqSVneNlplp4-JjIKfjWuhBTBBbSgx2sqd-o_prvaj-VmxjYvPhFMP-AgKCk/w500-h333/2000_toyota_mr2_spyder_1564777576fcd208IMG_0054-e1566565759548.jpg" width="500" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#3367d6"><b>Toyota MR2 Spyder: My Precioussss!<br /></b></font><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div>Hey, middle-aged crazy, so why not a sports car. The Miata? Nah. The Honda S2000 was out, but only the original high-rev version was available, so, um, no. Then I saw a vision from Highway 101 of this car. With a quick exit and return, I knew it was the one. Turned out the Manager needed a white Escape (he already had a customer for it) and he eventually crumbled on the price for the Toyota. Used, but gently, and it looked new. I signed the papers, made the trade, and then went home wondering what I was going to tell my wife, who had not been sympathetic to my manly needs.<br /><br />Turned out okay, though; she enjoyed it as much as I did and she had her Mercedes, so...<br /><br />I loved every single moment of that Spyder. It was a marvel of finely-honed automotive engineering. The MR2 team obsessed over every single aspect. There was not one ounce of excess weight. It started as a mid-engine concept but ended up a high-mount rear-engine. </div><div><br /></div><div>One of my favorite jaunts was driving up the magnificent Highway 1 from Marin, the entire corkscrewing coastline of Sonoma County and Mendocino, then down the Anderson Valley, past the Alexander Valley, over to Dry Creek Valley, then across and up the Russian River Valley and through Santa Rosa was a true delight. Then came the best part: cruising through the Valley of the Moon and ending on the outskirts of the town of Sonoma, where we lived surrounded by vineyards.</div><div><br /></div><div>One magical night remains firmly in our fondest memories. We were coming back from a dinner in Santa Rosa cruising down the Valley of the Moon. It was a chilly fall night, the wind was still, the sky was clear, with almost no traffic. I had the top down and the heater blowing.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcf3209TQAJzF-iMoCtfdw-othUzubWgAyZcmbwXLzM6dDgWiFQf0uGzOfICU7dXdHUEMv0zI7Qo3L9yDDyD-rU0_M0QDBToYGgKv9XhKrdbESXtiFvp0Qh0206wYG7tJZ4BJaYngkHrI/s1023/bloodmoon+liam+higgins.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="460" data-original-width="1023" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcf3209TQAJzF-iMoCtfdw-othUzubWgAyZcmbwXLzM6dDgWiFQf0uGzOfICU7dXdHUEMv0zI7Qo3L9yDDyD-rU0_M0QDBToYGgKv9XhKrdbESXtiFvp0Qh0206wYG7tJZ4BJaYngkHrI/w640-h288/bloodmoon+liam+higgins.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Blood Moon</span></b><br />Liam Higgins Photography</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>Down the dark ribbon of highway, with winking glitters of stars all around, was the largest full moon I had ever seen. We looked at each other, but said nothing, afraid to break the spell of that one perfect moment.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC309DoZ7iOMRWVFwDyub5rWbISJ8g8M_jrMf02mNfpdU9xfI-XLV5FshoQahFKDnGSH0rVNKEZoF_K_Ti6nNXZj-8NotxheThcl05qmVVlb2469yw4dW4T7O0slFEtebZS4q5lIvo-_U/s500/mbz+94+e430.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC309DoZ7iOMRWVFwDyub5rWbISJ8g8M_jrMf02mNfpdU9xfI-XLV5FshoQahFKDnGSH0rVNKEZoF_K_Ti6nNXZj-8NotxheThcl05qmVVlb2469yw4dW4T7O0slFEtebZS4q5lIvo-_U/s320/mbz+94+e430.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><font color="#3367d6">1994 Mercedes E430</font></b><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>My wife wanted a Mercedes. I had seen an ad for a 1994---the last year before Mercedes changed their policy of making their cars with the high quality and durability for which they had been renowned---and thought the time was right. Mixed blessings, as it turns out. Durable, yes, but increasingly expensive as the odometer spun higher.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was an admirable car, stately and powerful, with the steady V8 rumble of ever-increasing power(Yay, torque!) and the rock-solid road feel of a very heavy car. Sadly, we lost it to a faulty catalytic converter while it was at the dealer. </div><div><br /></div><div>"I'm sorry, but your car caught on fire." Wait. What? "It appears the catalytic converter malfunctioned while we were test driving it to see what the problem was. Smoke was pouring out. Technically, it wasn't on fire but the carpets were seriously scorched, and we don't know yet if anything else was damaged." Time for reparations, and the 430 had to go.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBgtBJeegZL4Ks_oKtL4oOx2Cijpg2CJT2281T_rSZXLa63LcoC1TMCJnqEPylY0kWmdSb8RMdxoxZLq5m4ezP96AoLrexOzE6QLGQtwHgPPh30Y3Ae-_gMCVrqX-eJ3tBAAKHlvwWF2c/s538/vw+passat+wagon.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #073763;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="404" data-original-width="538" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBgtBJeegZL4Ks_oKtL4oOx2Cijpg2CJT2281T_rSZXLa63LcoC1TMCJnqEPylY0kWmdSb8RMdxoxZLq5m4ezP96AoLrexOzE6QLGQtwHgPPh30Y3Ae-_gMCVrqX-eJ3tBAAKHlvwWF2c/s320/vw+passat+wagon.JPG" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><b>2005 Volkswagen Passat Wagon 2.0 Turbo</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>I loved the Audis from the 2000s but just could not justify the prices they were asking. Looked at some used Audis, but nothing fit. In 2005, Volkswagen came out with a line update/change, and it was impressive. I discovered, though, that they somehow had made a an oversight: the new Passat sedan model came out...but they didn't have a redesigned Passat Wagon model available yet. So VW scurried around and, long story short, they wrapped a Passat Wagon name-badge around an Audi 2.0 Liter Turbo (formerly available only on Audi cars until then).<br /><br />I leaped. They were hard to find but I located one over in Livermore. Glossy jet black, mocha leather interior, and cool minimalist styling. And that 2.0T. What a magnificent engine that was. It was my stealth undercover rocket; a grocery getter that drove like a race car!<br /><br />It drove me crazy with some irritating and expensive mechanical problems---such as the one where it sat at the dealer---for a month---waiting for a part. When the warranty ran out it became a money pit. But when it worked it was a beauty to drive.</div><div><br /></div><div>I needed another repair. Estimate was $2300. I looked down to the odometer and found I had put 112,000 miles on it. So I reluctantly gave it up. Mixed feelings, but it was out of extended warranty and repairs were racking up, so bye-bye Passat.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikOSYuSB6Oyy7jIrA-ZCDITuCwn6vI4ZV56SNJ7oLvz6ICuaYiG9_lTqlI5h_x5wlaAOg9RI8iwjTffaWpjR_fNFTw5zdYEyBiRy8XYXlNn7rXfcIf0nVWzI5RXU6yW2Xkto73jgrAXus/s400/2004+mbz+c320+4.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikOSYuSB6Oyy7jIrA-ZCDITuCwn6vI4ZV56SNJ7oLvz6ICuaYiG9_lTqlI5h_x5wlaAOg9RI8iwjTffaWpjR_fNFTw5zdYEyBiRy8XYXlNn7rXfcIf0nVWzI5RXU6yW2Xkto73jgrAXus/s320/2004+mbz+c320+4.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><font color="#3367d6">2004 Mercedes C320 4Motion</font></b><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>The E430 replacement. Mercedes was gracious and when my wife showed up at the dealership they made it next to impossible to refuse a replacement. The one thing my wife didn't quite like about the E430 was the clunky big-body style. Problem solved: Former executive lease, low mileage, sleeker body, with the basic E-grade 320 6 in a C-body, and throw in 4Motion while you're at it. Perfecto! Her favorite car ever; she refused to give it up, and we don't want to talk about it, okay? The problem with Mercedes is that every time you need maintenance you figure to start at $1000...and then go up from there. So with great reluctance (on her part), we traded it in.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjrF-yAzNqGjSXWO9EFjeJmFKaSTOhCND2pUvfoDAbRNi-7HYSKSxlGf9AEri0hRuAUyWnz7UNiO9rr4NOn546FOj3j-0DZa4v40ehuznch_M0VtOwhV0xNuvkHuycrq7gEKrXNYiW5A/s2048/honda+crv+2010.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1360" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjrF-yAzNqGjSXWO9EFjeJmFKaSTOhCND2pUvfoDAbRNi-7HYSKSxlGf9AEri0hRuAUyWnz7UNiO9rr4NOn546FOj3j-0DZa4v40ehuznch_M0VtOwhV0xNuvkHuycrq7gEKrXNYiW5A/s320/honda+crv+2010.PNG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2<b><font color="#3367d6">010 Honda CRV EX AWD</font></b><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div>America's favorite SUV. And for damned good reasons. We were looking at a Hyundai and happened to see this sitting on another lot. They had just gotten it in trade. Full leather package. Low mileage. 133,000 miles later and it is still trouble-free and just as fine as the day we got it. A little under-powered, sure. But as reliable and comfortable as you can expect. Utterly dependable. I've finally reached the age where I don't feel like I have to get something new every year. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763;">An Unexpected Blast From The Past: </span></b></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763;">1994 Ford Ranger XLT 4 Cylinder</span></b></div><div><br /></div><div>This one caught me by surprise. My father-in-law and his wife had decided to sell their sprawling home in Eagle Point and move to a retirement community closer to Portland. They had to do the usual minimization of stuff, of course. We offered to help them move. At the end of the move, Harvey informed me he had stopped driving and was giving me his truck, the 1994 Ranger. I told him he should sell it, but he insisted on gifting it to me.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWlqL-LB5wrFjJGPU0-I0DFpljzo68i7iX3ok3HZ9MEo0XjdFyQRBOGf9X7zIfuQr8Oxux3CY9opvbzJ8e54Plv4lPA1QtQSYuPS5y2vEYEEHI8aCvK_NxsOLDnYIzyH3OzIO_bW9LvL4/s480/94+Ranger.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWlqL-LB5wrFjJGPU0-I0DFpljzo68i7iX3ok3HZ9MEo0XjdFyQRBOGf9X7zIfuQr8Oxux3CY9opvbzJ8e54Plv4lPA1QtQSYuPS5y2vEYEEHI8aCvK_NxsOLDnYIzyH3OzIO_bW9LvL4/w400-h300/94+Ranger.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /><br />The Ranger was a basic 4 cylinder, single cab, 5 speed on the floor, no automatic doors or windows, minimal windshield wipers, and most important of all, no air conditioning. It was in superb shape though, first used as a ranch truck that didn't do much ranching and then as my FIL's get-about. It had only 70K miles on it and it ran like a charm. Even had brand new tires on it.<br /><br />Did I need another vehicle? Heck, no. Had two good ones already. But Harvey was insistent, so I acquiesced. Dump runs? Light hauling? It's plain but it's a sturdy little thing.</div><div><br /></div><div>So far, I've had five offers on it, and the offers keep going higher.<br /><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763;">2004 Kymco People 50</span></b></div><br /></div><div>You can call it a moped. You can call it a scooter. You can call it a crazy thing to buy when you're in your 70s. I decided I was going to have a motor scooter. Then I looked at the prices. Ruh Roh. The new Italianates, like Vespa, were astronomical. The various and sundry Chinese were, pretty much as a class, cheaply made with chronic tubing and electrical problems.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJU4tz5CaYW8o4bCu0bvaCUZ2c25c3G1O3SLe3AVT2qhjWS5Osv52CudOMlHaIxwZQksomFOWCBC_owg7wz2fJov32tG3rBBxNdsntdAbK_u5ZojVy9lQsKE3hQGad1Z5V01MijFMrgZY/s640/photo_kymco-people-50-1999_29331315.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJU4tz5CaYW8o4bCu0bvaCUZ2c25c3G1O3SLe3AVT2qhjWS5Osv52CudOMlHaIxwZQksomFOWCBC_owg7wz2fJov32tG3rBBxNdsntdAbK_u5ZojVy9lQsKE3hQGad1Z5V01MijFMrgZY/s320/photo_kymco-people-50-1999_29331315.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /><br />Then I saw the ad for the 2004 Kymco People 50. Taiwanese. Good rep, sturdy and dependable, and priced right. When I took a look at it I discovered it was the last of the 2-stroke engines Kymco made. That delighted me because the Kymco 2-strokes were famous for their reliability, low maintenance, and endurance. They were also well-known among the scooter crowd for putting out more power than the 4-stroke; which I (<i>ahem</i>) proved on numerous occasions. The continuously variable transmission (no clutch, no gears), electric starter, ease of use and minimal maintenance convinced me: I wanted this bike!<br /><br />So I got it. My wife alternately laughed at me and shook her head at the foolishness. But it's cool. Had a lot of great rides on that bike. I had my fun for a few years and it was time to move on. So I sold it---to a guy who had that eager glint in his eyes that I had when I got it!</div><div><br /></div><div>And that brings to the current car, perhaps my last.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763;">Mazda CX-30 AWD Premium</span></b></div><div><br /></div><div>I had been reading and viewing the reviews about the CX-30 since it came out. I was impressed; it was obvious that Mazda was aggressively elevating their game and the CX30 was the opening salvo to move up into the 'near-luxury/luxury' segment. The car was impressive in every aspect and detail</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpAvAskm_Wd95YMN0h2ylk74GnlTRU1XwoY4A2Lrw1E0w4JeVO3soSoaFS3vKmf1SOdDuiYxeqxuKHgq9IkxHQLVnVm2BgWSUtVQ6u2SX2_21O6_ztZpBxpRZRXX0Mefn94WepOCJwCw/s1075/2020-Mazda-CX-30-red-exterior-front-fascia-driver-side-parked_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="1075" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpAvAskm_Wd95YMN0h2ylk74GnlTRU1XwoY4A2Lrw1E0w4JeVO3soSoaFS3vKmf1SOdDuiYxeqxuKHgq9IkxHQLVnVm2BgWSUtVQ6u2SX2_21O6_ztZpBxpRZRXX0Mefn94WepOCJwCw/w640-h224/2020-Mazda-CX-30-red-exterior-front-fascia-driver-side-parked_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">We almost went for crystal mica red. It was simply gorgeous. But on our </div><div style="text-align: center;">final visit to the dealer, we saw the Deep Crystal Blue Premium</div><div style="text-align: center;">sitting in the showroom, and it was love at first sight.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiThf5RG0NgFU-m1O6VBhSxA0-FEF0aMXDz0lwScFhV9tTPaeFEuJKalBPuzgca5m_cldYSiNuGqGdSqxyYM-7nx6n08zg2z_g7pd3xTBdG5P5ZLpdaKD5ggsMXB2L7k9yQlla1IEv5k-Y/s1280/mazda+cx30blue.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiThf5RG0NgFU-m1O6VBhSxA0-FEF0aMXDz0lwScFhV9tTPaeFEuJKalBPuzgca5m_cldYSiNuGqGdSqxyYM-7nx6n08zg2z_g7pd3xTBdG5P5ZLpdaKD5ggsMXB2L7k9yQlla1IEv5k-Y/w640-h360/mazda+cx30blue.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzr_RgEiYPB57reAG23OYOugmGgYYiNTZaTtWf20AjnQFcSvwspi23utPl-twJTmmpSIR_m_bHYWvhCC-g4bTiLYsz3SzkjhkIEL32V_mkc2-JPwPcRan6l0A2g1_aCKJ3LJkHnKMbxMc/s292/bazda+blie+rear.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="172" data-original-width="292" height="377" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzr_RgEiYPB57reAG23OYOugmGgYYiNTZaTtWf20AjnQFcSvwspi23utPl-twJTmmpSIR_m_bHYWvhCC-g4bTiLYsz3SzkjhkIEL32V_mkc2-JPwPcRan6l0A2g1_aCKJ3LJkHnKMbxMc/w640-h377/bazda+blie+rear.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Sleek, stylish lines and curves, an outstanding array of safety devices, and luxury level upgrades galore. Lights are fully LED, making this the best night-driver I've ever had. Broad light arc, self-dimming headlights, and headlights that <i>turn in the direction of thrust</i> on curving roads!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The radar system allows you to set and maintain the distance to any car in front of you. Plus lane warning, blind-spot warning, rear-left-right obstruction warnings---the list just keeps rolling on.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYcXvVvN3asTSKjqclbBabWG7XzHOPxaCepboSu9p6cda5cLlcNpR3aLVD28SLNJGN9N2bGtHToFS9df9Fihym2cBehHO_oAKWItNzX-ZOv4pmjOZxJd5bcsJokg5RmvzgdIrMLDDpquk/s1600/mazdacx30int.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYcXvVvN3asTSKjqclbBabWG7XzHOPxaCepboSu9p6cda5cLlcNpR3aLVD28SLNJGN9N2bGtHToFS9df9Fihym2cBehHO_oAKWItNzX-ZOv4pmjOZxJd5bcsJokg5RmvzgdIrMLDDpquk/w640-h360/mazdacx30int.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The CX-30 interior design has that Euro luxury car feel. It provides impressive attention to detail, a well-thought-out cabin, comfy and supportive seats.<br /><br />The info screen and rear view mirror (non touch) is placed in a low wide profile on the dash. You have to manipulate it with the "universal control wheel" situated in the center console. It's overly fussy, but once you get used to it, it works fine---with one exception, the built-in mapping system. So I use Car Play for mapping. You also have the option of a Heads-Up Speed Display. I like it; some people don't.<br /><br />All in all, this is a fine car. It well may be the last new car we purchase...<br />but I feel we made the right choice.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-57124524991360908332021-11-06T16:57:00.005-07:002021-12-31T13:16:50.866-08:00Hotel Emma, San Antonio: Exceptional Signature Cocktails<p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763;">Signature Cocktails at Hotel Emma,</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763;"> Pearl Center, San Antonio</span></b></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIhDFB5nyZe9m3tyvBDUL3uufHz8Zhz27DMSKfSGJbKD7yCHMPpd4UR3Gs2dlSSyKkdtLNZyDTVr4r9qMxEUdCiCoAo-IzjcDhBYUEnylfwyo1FBAfjBZONjWanmfGYQF4YH14gstREdQ/s2048/41F89F0A-01B1-4ED0-85C1-9421C7A9391D.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIhDFB5nyZe9m3tyvBDUL3uufHz8Zhz27DMSKfSGJbKD7yCHMPpd4UR3Gs2dlSSyKkdtLNZyDTVr4r9qMxEUdCiCoAo-IzjcDhBYUEnylfwyo1FBAfjBZONjWanmfGYQF4YH14gstREdQ/w480-h640/41F89F0A-01B1-4ED0-85C1-9421C7A9391D.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><b>The Musician and Pepo<br /></b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Background: Grape Expectations</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAkMs-JGxzKzUF3veJIQM6yeODtEdQ7O3FEwOcxexAlPIwAeqYOTwOM_GNtQunpU03HOMP3BBpnm7Jjtrw5EAJ8E1K5CRQ0cPTSh4aquwFyR8tWN4Rk3sIHl80NcGUrPCGjtWik6jHz2w/s300/HE_Logo_871_C-300x298.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="298" data-original-width="300" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAkMs-JGxzKzUF3veJIQM6yeODtEdQ7O3FEwOcxexAlPIwAeqYOTwOM_GNtQunpU03HOMP3BBpnm7Jjtrw5EAJ8E1K5CRQ0cPTSh4aquwFyR8tWN4Rk3sIHl80NcGUrPCGjtWik6jHz2w/s0/HE_Logo_871_C-300x298.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46TDuTmSqFUen5yDaeQtQtNjQMNkErYyTczopzZbzQPch-du7uEhp3AJPpmIQ1PUCo8WMeaiT_fBnpK113SIDFFtiTtMKuiue6sAW7n9-NtOFhFrgNEaCSJ9LNGp1OeRvIhlbF52P4rY/s334/he_sponserbrand3.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="128" data-original-width="334" height="123" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46TDuTmSqFUen5yDaeQtQtNjQMNkErYyTczopzZbzQPch-du7uEhp3AJPpmIQ1PUCo8WMeaiT_fBnpK113SIDFFtiTtMKuiue6sAW7n9-NtOFhFrgNEaCSJ9LNGp1OeRvIhlbF52P4rY/s320/he_sponserbrand3.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">HOTEL EMMA</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">Sternewirth Tavern & Pub</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">SIGNATURE COCKTAILS</span></div><p></p><p><b>The Three Emmas...12</b></p><p>—pearl beer & rose cordial, amontillado sherry, botanist gin, grapefruit juice, lemon juice</p><p><b>La Babia Margarita...12</b></p><p>—blanco tequila, orange liqueur, lime</p><p><b>Bonita y Basica...13</b></p><p>—tequila, aperol, strawberry, lime, sugar</p><p><b>Brooklyn Fog...15</b></p><p>—earl grey-infused tea, coconut rum, sherry, rice milk, cinnamon</p><p><b>Grape Expectations...15</b></p><p>—lillet blanc, cocchi rosa, pisco, riesling reduction</p><p><b>Hot Girl Summerr...14</b></p><p>—scotch, passionfruit liqueur, lemon, strawberry, honey, hazy IPA</p><p><b>The Musician and Pepo...13</b></p><p>—bourbon, amaro, watermelon, lime, sugar</p><p><b>Township Rebellion...13</b></p><p>—vodka, aquavit, orange liqueur, pineapple, lemon, sugar</p><p>A scan of the list immediately shows a wide-ranging use of fruit, which adds nuances of favor and lessens the amount of simple syrup (sugar reduction). There is also a fascinating selection of savory/spicy elements that adds flavors. contrasts, and textures---Sherry, Amaro Nonino, Cocchi Rosa.</p><p>I enjoyed three cocktails. <b><span style="color: #073763;">Grape Expectations</span></b> (in the background) was a delightful aperitif, floral, fruity and savory in perfect balance, with faint bitterness in the finish to liven it up. I enjoy the fruitiness of Lillet. I like pisco. And <b><a href="https://www.foodandwine.com/cocktails-spirits/cocchi-rosa-cocktails-recipes">Cocchi Americano Rosa </a></b>is one of my all-time-favorite tipples. It's a strange, enticing, light americano bitter made from berry-bright Brachetto d'Acqui and aromatic Malvasia Nera flavored with gentian, cinchona, rose petals, ginger, citrus zest, saffron and vanilla. How could I not order this? </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMK34Zt2KIJPZsaT8oYu7ffJxPPBxuVBk3q-5D21LY8ecKLYnX9du1G5Sbk9PYiRmholABItZQ2d99D1wQoDml1EdqT8TN-L5gBLckfWZL1ZkpL-RZA7r9cha1Fjtg11QRy2NYu_gr1i0/s2881/COCCHIROSA-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2881" data-original-width="1092" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMK34Zt2KIJPZsaT8oYu7ffJxPPBxuVBk3q-5D21LY8ecKLYnX9du1G5Sbk9PYiRmholABItZQ2d99D1wQoDml1EdqT8TN-L5gBLckfWZL1ZkpL-RZA7r9cha1Fjtg11QRy2NYu_gr1i0/w151-h400/COCCHIROSA-1.jpg" width="151" /></a></div><p>I couldn’t resist <b><span style="color: #073763;">The Musician and Pepo</span></b>. This is an absolutely brilliant creation of bourbon, Amaro Nonino, watermelon(!), lime and simple. It is similar to the Paper Plane cocktail. Big block of ice, a decorative garnish of a lime round—-this was a serious cocktail. The bourbon was definitely there, but the <a href="https://www.klwines.com/p/i?i=1013130">Amara Nonino</a>, and I assume the watermelon, smoothed out any potential roughness or burn, added layers of complexity, and buffed and beveled the cocktail to mellow, polished perfection.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjatC37FJ_eBs63zuiq3IYOj_e_lgKiDx9sgxoazjTHw00XxulRO83-XnIKsvnRA1_8g0fItk0MEudoI4n4DkIrVq2cKKVZ1uJcegI2LDY-U2I850xBS3Eh_fn-XLIMStZ2MVxfdnSf7Wk/s1024/nonino-quintessentia-amaro_1024x1024.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjatC37FJ_eBs63zuiq3IYOj_e_lgKiDx9sgxoazjTHw00XxulRO83-XnIKsvnRA1_8g0fItk0MEudoI4n4DkIrVq2cKKVZ1uJcegI2LDY-U2I850xBS3Eh_fn-XLIMStZ2MVxfdnSf7Wk/s320/nonino-quintessentia-amaro_1024x1024.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>The single sip I had of the <b><span style="color: #073763;">La Babia Margarita </span></b>was a pleasant surprise. It took me back to Guadalajara for a moment. This isn't your standard sticky-sweet lemon-lime mix off the grocery shelf; it's what a margarita was supposed to be, an upfront punchy bite of good tequila, a bit of orange liqueur, and the tangy tartness of lime. baby, lime. At the Emma they use good tequila; after all, if you can't taste the tequila, why are you drinking a tequila cocktail?</p><p>I don’t know who created this superb cocktail list, but he, she, or they have a profound ability to blend spirits in exquisite harmony.</p>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-51560931993162617612021-10-09T15:13:00.000-07:002021-10-09T15:13:11.517-07:00Places I've Been, People I've Met: Prince Albrecht, Furstlich Castell-Castell, Franconia, Germany<p> </p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #073763;"><b>It's not every day you have a chitchat with a prince...</b></span></h3><p>Our small group of wine buyers was invited to meet the hereditary Furstlich Castell-Castell, and we were excited.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmaDrfKhJWTzBrEJ_yplVpl27IMg8BJh1G1zqaybXbRIAgxIG6nhwaNa1FfLJR_XdKsMW94UoAsi_TjTFgY1mzE1sL4nJvPBb7xD8t4IOx-II7RqoA98V4yV2szbtCP87elQMSD-L-wQ8/s321/220px-Castell-Scheibler19ps.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="321" data-original-width="220" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmaDrfKhJWTzBrEJ_yplVpl27IMg8BJh1G1zqaybXbRIAgxIG6nhwaNa1FfLJR_XdKsMW94UoAsi_TjTFgY1mzE1sL4nJvPBb7xD8t4IOx-II7RqoA98V4yV2szbtCP87elQMSD-L-wQ8/s320/220px-Castell-Scheibler19ps.jpg" width="219" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><span style="color: #073763;">Castell Coat of Arms</span></b><br />A German friend told me the prestige<br />of an ancient noble line could be <br />determined by their heraldry:<br />"Simple, unadorned, understated? <br />Probably very old. And very wealthy."</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Castell is an old and honored name in the Franken wine region, near Wurzburg. Castell is a small county. It's also a small town. It's also a <a href="https://www.vdp.de/en/die-winzer/franken/fuerstlich-castellsches-domaenenamt">VDP</a>. The Castell family owns the vast majority of the finest vineyards and they have been making wine from those vineyards for 26 generations. Not 26 years. 26<i> generations.</i> </p><p>The family began in 1057. Always forward-looking, they brought in the first plantings of the Silvaner (Sylvaner) grape in 1659. Now Silvaner accounts for more than 40% of their total production. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUkdRRU_8n5P63Ln-nUy6AGF1E6aCPK77qSUpgUV-UfZcIhgEWG6QV9PXLs_jVsJVgHOayVdxrsODBoB59gqq95Xpt6I4qsKxWJJ4VJz_NAM8L9K6Q84uiCfE_EnDIoYVOPZnLaxnBD5I/s1440/castell.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="926" data-original-width="1440" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUkdRRU_8n5P63Ln-nUy6AGF1E6aCPK77qSUpgUV-UfZcIhgEWG6QV9PXLs_jVsJVgHOayVdxrsODBoB59gqq95Xpt6I4qsKxWJJ4VJz_NAM8L9K6Q84uiCfE_EnDIoYVOPZnLaxnBD5I/w400-h258/castell.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><b>Castell: Region, Village, VDP</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCQDVvqEL55apvF_CzTaw0PH2tsHtF2MgyRSduGdMPhDuEBOfAYhY8jpJRHS9HrvjUT78DbI3duu0-9kEAb1GGsKiIWohldTtf85CQwOQVVHH032Nw64S-4YBvpx4QqLnQeZfyxOlaQwA/s640/castel.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCQDVvqEL55apvF_CzTaw0PH2tsHtF2MgyRSduGdMPhDuEBOfAYhY8jpJRHS9HrvjUT78DbI3duu0-9kEAb1GGsKiIWohldTtf85CQwOQVVHH032Nw64S-4YBvpx4QqLnQeZfyxOlaQwA/w400-h300/castel.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763;">The "new house" of Castell-Castell</span></b></td></tr></tbody></table><div> </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4K6NU3YVfiB4X1BtoFxceuhe7cbv1aZAPBHBjeDmDGjtSggXMYPP3OC3_EolTppnrXafXgcSlluIXVJRzg8qoGxleepd-pNZcpTlZ_seFFoZkCiJwWbx_CVbmG3NdSbnlJMOULY1V-yg/s628/imago0065349829s.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="628" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4K6NU3YVfiB4X1BtoFxceuhe7cbv1aZAPBHBjeDmDGjtSggXMYPP3OC3_EolTppnrXafXgcSlluIXVJRzg8qoGxleepd-pNZcpTlZ_seFFoZkCiJwWbx_CVbmG3NdSbnlJMOULY1V-yg/s320/imago0065349829s.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><b>Prinz Albrecht Castell-Castell</b><br />Ruddy, soft-spoken, initially reserved, the<br />Prince became affable and talkative, proud of<br />the family heritage and his "Texas Connection."<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Prince Albrecht greeted us at the top of the double stairway and graciously invited us in. He was not confident in his English so his Personal Assistant/Translator, a young American woman, translated for him when he related the story of his family. "We have a long family history. This house is referred to as 'the new house.'"</div><div><br /></div><div>One of the group asked "If this is your new house, when did you move here?" (Bait taken!) The Prince smiled. "600 years ago. It was not far," he said, pointing up the very steep hill in front of us. "But it was uncomfortable, and a long walk."</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsyYfmbzsnpUY0bN3D-hnmgkCTnre65GVx_0AU8PSi9LouGjr8WPqJX6RTC8hKr1fABG6iV5WzkJGsLbzNqH0AjHTIuZi3Zxx0Ss9NjOVN09xTJwdnnHUhyphenhyphenSelHNO-F_kPrWMBCovMKjk/s640/castel+old.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="424" data-original-width="640" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsyYfmbzsnpUY0bN3D-hnmgkCTnre65GVx_0AU8PSi9LouGjr8WPqJX6RTC8hKr1fABG6iV5WzkJGsLbzNqH0AjHTIuZi3Zxx0Ss9NjOVN09xTJwdnnHUhyphenhyphenSelHNO-F_kPrWMBCovMKjk/w400-h265/castel+old.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763;">The "old house," on the Schlossberg Vineyard hill,<br />back up among the trees.</span></b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><b><span style="color: #073763;">Castell Meets Texas, Circa 1847</span></b></div><div>When I mentioned I was from Texas the Prince perked up and questioned me with evident excitement, "Do you know of the German Land Settlement in 1847? Our Castell'sches Bank was very active in that transaction because times were hard then, so we felt obligated to help. To honor our family, the settlers named a town after us. Castell, Texas."</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAvbAeBbqcvNSj259JEagSo4RsZ36JANhNY4C8epO-26kgxJp_ew6IfDEpAZphfqFaDtGNlpW6POVACSl05jcSJrYUkcZJTE-xRTWaKFEIJrt3w9e02r5aPhzNlOnOGmv_mj6nuLDcAdY/s520/plaque2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="520" data-original-width="329" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAvbAeBbqcvNSj259JEagSo4RsZ36JANhNY4C8epO-26kgxJp_ew6IfDEpAZphfqFaDtGNlpW6POVACSl05jcSJrYUkcZJTE-xRTWaKFEIJrt3w9e02r5aPhzNlOnOGmv_mj6nuLDcAdY/s320/plaque2.JPG" width="202" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>I assured him I knew the story of the settlement. It was in the famous Hill Country of Texas, and the signs of German culture and heritage remain very much alive there. Fredericksburg, New Braunfels, Gruene are all from that time, and historical plaques are scattered all over. The German descendants are quite proud of their heritage. Their <i>heimat.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>I had been in Castell, Texas, several times. It is on the Llano River, so quite popular with visitors with fishing, rafting and rugged off-road cycling trails</div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjHbUxTE1Np6WP7nCH82aFuQLVKrXfEwiEmAJyuiuJO-2Q4kdRRJ-wF2HiyZFGqkJybKi6UPmnFp963Co2ZGYO0OtkC9AEcS6iPqvzOjIXvRBjA_ufacnnVcpS3Mbmx4JREdm4ZAnG7pI/s640/castellgs.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="640" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjHbUxTE1Np6WP7nCH82aFuQLVKrXfEwiEmAJyuiuJO-2Q4kdRRJ-wF2HiyZFGqkJybKi6UPmnFp963Co2ZGYO0OtkC9AEcS6iPqvzOjIXvRBjA_ufacnnVcpS3Mbmx4JREdm4ZAnG7pI/s320/castellgs.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>German restaurants abounded---biergartens are common; you also see bierstubes, rathskellers and German bakeries. Bratwurst, weisswurst, spaetzle and schnitzel are quite common there.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimIkH7AE86jGoB9TssbcFFx7DDjclCubDZcK8wzkU9cleVQA45_d-8t_vzmVrmb9DoXpAb_06PliQHkp9S2j1Owlo1jJmN2aNhSkhhxqOSh3pJY1G4m1qM9z-caDIKIDsr_uex3o0_KLM/s640/Auslander.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="458" data-original-width="640" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimIkH7AE86jGoB9TssbcFFx7DDjclCubDZcK8wzkU9cleVQA45_d-8t_vzmVrmb9DoXpAb_06PliQHkp9S2j1Owlo1jJmN2aNhSkhhxqOSh3pJY1G4m1qM9z-caDIKIDsr_uex3o0_KLM/s320/Auslander.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">Auslander, a popular German<br />restaurant in nearby Fredericksburg, Texas.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Prinz Albrecht was delighted to hear the stories of the "new world Castell," informing us that the winery also emphasized their wine through their cuisine, and invited us into the Weinhall, a restaurant converted from the royal stables, for a typical Casteller lunch---Munchner Weissswurst cooked in a castiron skillet, then seethed with vinegar and fresh green onions, topped with parsley served with a side of spaetzle noodles and a fiery dab of horseradish mustard. It was no surprise the Castell Silvaner was a delicious companion, in perfect harmony with the food. <br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><i><b>Silvaner (Sylvaner)</b></i></span></div><div><span style="color: #073763;"><i>A friend once quipped that Silvaner had to be the world's most under-appreciated white wine. Having lived in Germany and visited Alsace frequently, I had trouble figuring out why Silvaner was so little known and seldom seen in the American market. I came to realize that the then-emerging 'wine boom' was indulging the American predilection for big, bold and often overstated wines showcasing extravagancies of ripe fruit, stern tannins, and lashings of vanilla-butter oak spice.<br /><br />If you desire wine to be a statement, a trophy, a best of show blockbuster; don't buy Silvaner. If, however, you want purity of expression, clean fine-etched flavors and subtle aromas in a wine cultivated for 26 generations to be a companion for food. not a contestant for attention, then Silvaner is precisely the wine you want.</i></span></div><div><span style="color: #073763;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><br /></div><div><h3 style="background-color: #eeeeee; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Cambria-Bold, "Libre Baskerville", serif; font-size: 1.6em; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: 0.05em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 2.4rem; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase;">FÜRSTLICH CASTELL'SCHES DOMÄNENAMt</h3></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7mHcl0lKWpNc_hQSNpj2jOhc52solG79aWRPOablgFbtZiSS-O22J-0np-6ZEtxz13HVJbwdrlDegxPZhJGKU0MOKUNcBRnKWYmZOpASwFCDz3GYfzwRzG6fs6rEt3NP4cxHnc-KGF3s/s600/castellsil.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="393" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7mHcl0lKWpNc_hQSNpj2jOhc52solG79aWRPOablgFbtZiSS-O22J-0np-6ZEtxz13HVJbwdrlDegxPZhJGKU0MOKUNcBRnKWYmZOpASwFCDz3GYfzwRzG6fs6rEt3NP4cxHnc-KGF3s/w263-h400/castellsil.PNG" width="263" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">CASTELLER SILVANER</div><div style="text-align: center;">The flagship of Castell wine. Dry, light and crisp, with</div><div style="text-align: center;"> a pleasant subdued but persistent mix of herbal aromas.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Steely acids brace the wine admirably. In the best "old<br />world" way, this is an ideal bottle to sit <br />beside the plate at table.<br /><br />In keeping with ancient tradition, Castell uses a variation of the <br />glass "bocksbeutle." The distinctive shape refers to the medieval<br />leather bottles made from goatskins with the vague shape </div><div style="text-align: center;">representing the, um, nether regions of a goat (bock). In any <br />case the design is eminently practical: stable on the table, easy to <br />hold, easy to pour. Sylvaner is not meant for long aging <br />so laying the bottle sideways isn't required. Finally, the screwcap <br />doesn't require a corkscrew, so no muss-no fuss, </div><div style="text-align: center;">a simple twist of the wrist and pour.</div><div><br /></div><div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_hWtd3PAJOtiDTf2EuwCHGoZYuFu5hnTjR2quN_az-wKCdbSRLBm15XUHNmjb8Hg2cFYTUTPP21O6ZzKjQEEhO8yEb7_GBoAExWqyZjuGEKiqJ0D_ov61EeJwGSWKspVRvq9QeVsFQY/s1608/castellsilvaner.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1608" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_hWtd3PAJOtiDTf2EuwCHGoZYuFu5hnTjR2quN_az-wKCdbSRLBm15XUHNmjb8Hg2cFYTUTPP21O6ZzKjQEEhO8yEb7_GBoAExWqyZjuGEKiqJ0D_ov61EeJwGSWKspVRvq9QeVsFQY/s320/castellsilvaner.JPG" width="287" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CASTELLER KUGELSPIEL SILVANER<br />Methinks Castell is having a little fun here. Kugelspiel<br />in German means "Play Ball" (as in gioco, boules, or<br />lawn bowling) and the soils of this vineyard produce<br />slightly more earthy and fuller-bodied wines. And Kugelspiel<br />is, unlike its sibling Silvaner, made in a different manner: it <br />is rested on the lees for a richer and silkier texture, <br />then held for a short span in oak...making this <br />an entirely different expression of the Silvaner grape...<br />softer, richer and more full-bodied.</td></tr></tbody></table> <br /></div></div><div>Prinz Albrecht is gone now (1945-2016), but his legacy has passed to his son Ferdinand, the Prince of Castell-Castell, and Ferdinand, alongside Director Peter Geil, continue the same traditions with great success.<br /><br />I'll be visiting San Antonio soon. Perhaps I will take the opportunity to visit Castell.</div>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-42731740631450721322021-09-03T18:09:00.000-07:002021-09-03T18:09:59.487-07:00My Life In Cars, Part IV: An Exotic Interlude: Model T, Ferrari 365GTC4 and 246 Dino. Porsche 911SC. DMC Delorean. Toronado, Jaguar XK120<div><br /></div>In the early Eighties I spent an interesting interlude that got me involved with a charismatic money-man<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiokQzw3rIciEUA5cO_7ZbjmH1P1rjSWU-bVngcqe8wuaQjlKMtXYTTm27tuPiURieAOcyL2WChegIo8Na7Ex1T88UOd9harIqtiVzl1lrCFyzD3t6DKNzbdto_Dbl0ESHjSAia2a5ILBo/s348/party+factory.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="348" data-original-width="348" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiokQzw3rIciEUA5cO_7ZbjmH1P1rjSWU-bVngcqe8wuaQjlKMtXYTTm27tuPiURieAOcyL2WChegIo8Na7Ex1T88UOd9harIqtiVzl1lrCFyzD3t6DKNzbdto_Dbl0ESHjSAia2a5ILBo/s320/party+factory.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#3367d6">That beverage store? Turned out to be a good <br />investment. Thirty years later and its <br />the biggest in the county and still<br />the #1 Reader's Choice.</font></td></tr></tbody></table> who happened to be a collector of various exotic cars. Richard Abbott was an entrepreneur who had a knack for making lots of money. He asked me to come out to Texarkana and chat with him about a business proposition. <div><br /></div><div>Texarkana was then, and still is, something of a bucolic backwater on the Arkansas-Texas border. But it was perfectly positioned for the beverage alcohol trade, a wet county bordered by three states that were predominantly dry. The town was mired in the past, and slow to change. <div><br /></div><div>Richard wanted to build a huge emporium of wines, spirits and beers to compete with the tiny, claustrophobic 'half pint stores' that dominated the area. And he wanted me to create the operation.<br /><br />So I went out to talk with him. He had a sprawling house on a private lake. We had to go past his 6 car garage to go into the house, The garage was full, and various cars were scattered around the property.<br /><br />As we walked past, I asked Richard, <i>Is that an original Ford Model T Flatbed? </i>It was. The car next to it was in jarring contrast, a pristine white Ferrari 365GTC4 with black leather interior. We went into the house to talk.<br /><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5bASxTK7Bup_8ejfUpleZksgGYR1nqZDPapChE2ZVCcdHBOLwYqI-N9hAEH5fP5S7vktbsHYZjhyphenhyphen5x3mHJh2fPajx_3cxshJySKhvFskOqHEBBeBPDUWyJMhk18WTNCFWthbz_8mAoRs/s1996/Model+T.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1550" data-original-width="1996" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5bASxTK7Bup_8ejfUpleZksgGYR1nqZDPapChE2ZVCcdHBOLwYqI-N9hAEH5fP5S7vktbsHYZjhyphenhyphen5x3mHJh2fPajx_3cxshJySKhvFskOqHEBBeBPDUWyJMhk18WTNCFWthbz_8mAoRs/s320/Model+T.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><i><font color="#3367d6" size="5" style="font-weight: bold;">The </font></i></div><div><i><font color="#3367d6" size="5" style="font-weight: bold;">Ford </font></i></div><div><i><font color="#3367d6" size="5" style="font-weight: bold;">Model T</font><br /><br />Immaculately restored, the Ford was placed at the entrance of our new beverage store. The antique became a nostalgic favorite and attracted fans from nearby states. One senior citizen regaled a crowd with his reminiscences of childhood. This was the same type he had learned to drive on the farm. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>We used it for key displays. It received constant attention. Eventually, people became so fond of it they would stop and pet the fender as they entered.</i></div><div><b><font color="#3367d6"><br /></font></b></div><div><b><font color="#3367d6" size="5">Ferrari 365 GTC4</font></b></div><div><b><font color="#3367d6"><br /></font></b></div><div>I commented on the Ferrari, which was one of the sleekest cars I had ever seen. It exuded Italian style and class. Richard was pleased that I knew a little about cars, and we talked Ferrari for a moment.</div><div><br /></div><div>Suddenly he said, <i>Tell you what, it's been a while since I've taken that one out. Let's give her a spin. </i> So he filled up a tumbler with single malt scotch, turned the key to a gentle, deep rumble, cradled his scotch next to the gear shifter, and we conducted a job interview while going over a hundred miles an hour on the back roads of Texas.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-n1KXKudKhkgtOEthv5o1dRbdGusML54QcxYKIX2byYu-4g7el9B4LH4NVwXy7OKgX_JyU_6MxUYGeSBxKLl2YpiI2qsfl9jx4kHsQM3sWmJO-OIbudl04u1iGaXqCIUWxboaqZNDV4I/s800/72+Ferrari+365+GTC4.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="800" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-n1KXKudKhkgtOEthv5o1dRbdGusML54QcxYKIX2byYu-4g7el9B4LH4NVwXy7OKgX_JyU_6MxUYGeSBxKLl2YpiI2qsfl9jx4kHsQM3sWmJO-OIbudl04u1iGaXqCIUWxboaqZNDV4I/w400-h268/72+Ferrari+365+GTC4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;">If you have never been in a Ferrari at high speed and full rev, I can't sufficiently describe it to you. </div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;">Oddly enough, it was rumbly and rough at low speed, but the faster we got the smoother and safer it felt. And the sound, my god the sound. This was a car designed specifically to go fast and look good. And it did both, superbly.</div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><font color="#3367d6" size="5"><b>1974 Porsche 911SC</b></font></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Z9o3oSUNW1T5MKfTytFieWYjXL6YCvwadSg4QbJNJ0ihB-qZdKCBgSh83tx_hf-V8l01OPs4OcI1C_nqdcXfEe6hbh1gvDsi4iQU841RCMAT8mGG9-MG6aBSEklzdk9VN2r9v44IWME/s1958/porsche+sc.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1215" data-original-width="1958" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Z9o3oSUNW1T5MKfTytFieWYjXL6YCvwadSg4QbJNJ0ihB-qZdKCBgSh83tx_hf-V8l01OPs4OcI1C_nqdcXfEe6hbh1gvDsi4iQU841RCMAT8mGG9-MG6aBSEklzdk9VN2r9v44IWME/w400-h249/porsche+sc.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;">When I took the position, I surrendered my executive car and intended to buy one, but Richard insisted I pick one of his cars to drive.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i style="font-style: italic;">How about the Porsche, dear? Anyone using that right now? </i>He tossed me the keys.<i style="font-style: italic;"> </i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i style="font-style: italic;"><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i style="font-style: italic;">Drive it as long as you want, then pick another one, he said</i>.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So there I was, working 18 hour days, slogging back happy but exhausted to a motel room...but as soon as I got behind the wheel of that precision driving machine, I just kept going, and going. It was pure, unadulterated pleasure to drive that car.</div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><font color="#3367d6">DMC Delorean</font></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font color="#3367d6"><b><br /></b></font><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdWA5pliN_4VWgfNps0Ydzq5MkNxIO9zxiQHL94D80RC-QAbnhVlMx7VjFMzJW-_8XRgDuleRD-DyYKc7p_SoepfVzdL5I-grP_FTp_V-RgK56btJffDgV1GlcLpfl6QTC3je9HudcbmU/s500/The+Rocketeer+CC+Delorean.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="211" data-original-width="500" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdWA5pliN_4VWgfNps0Ydzq5MkNxIO9zxiQHL94D80RC-QAbnhVlMx7VjFMzJW-_8XRgDuleRD-DyYKc7p_SoepfVzdL5I-grP_FTp_V-RgK56btJffDgV1GlcLpfl6QTC3je9HudcbmU/w400-h169/The+Rocketeer+CC+Delorean.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Then I made a serious mistake.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>I kept looking at the Delorean sitting way off to the side. I wanted to drive the gleaming silver cocaine-financed fashion car. I kept thinking about it, so I arranged to switch out to it. Richard said I'd be sorry, but I didn't listen.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">I should have.<br /><br />The Delorean was a muddled miscegenation of a car, all glommed together from different suppliers and jammed into the burnished aluminum body in a plant in Northern Ireland. DMC didn't actually <i>make</i> any of the car; they just assembled the parts. The car ended up being whistles and cheap bells designed to inconvenience, irritate, aggravate, and eventually enrage the unfortunate driver. But it looked cool.<br /><br />I had it for a couple of months, then begged Richard to take it back. If I had ten days of untroubled driving, I would have been surprised. Brakes went out. The hydraulic clutch went out. Gears got stuck in 2nd for a couple of days, then decided to get stuck in 4th. Then it would go in reverse---but not come out..<br /><br />I got used to the thunderous weight of that metal body, the massive ponderous inertia it generated, wallowing around corners, the atrocious sightlines from all angles, the reclined Lazyboy driving position, the massive gull-wing doors, electrically operated, so if your electric system shorted out or blew a fuse the doors would not open, and since there was no roll-down window and only a small slot in the side, you had to keep a ball-peen hammer in the glove compartment to smash out the side glass if you wanted to get out. The Delorean was an abomination. The only thing it was good for was being eye-candy to giggling young girls. And me. Dammit.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><font color="#3367d6" size="5">1966 Oldsmobile Toronado</font></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7IyyqQIGQI4VrC4-KDdNmAp4STppXhhBdPYpgQeARXleRiiW1fmudRrZJ-1oe-oQzWB_eZpHe3C7kGuZ7fggZruxt-6PdK7cPrFbdX94mFogox39G7pO5PIX8DdLX8Ul8X7UWWAu68XM/s2048/66+Toronado.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1360" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7IyyqQIGQI4VrC4-KDdNmAp4STppXhhBdPYpgQeARXleRiiW1fmudRrZJ-1oe-oQzWB_eZpHe3C7kGuZ7fggZruxt-6PdK7cPrFbdX94mFogox39G7pO5PIX8DdLX8Ul8X7UWWAu68XM/s320/66+Toronado.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">It seemed a bit odd at first, this monolithic American statement amidst all the sports and luxury cars. But it was, after all, a luxury car, albeit of brobdingnagian scale. And it was a bold step and even bolder design. The base was also used for the Buick Riviera and Cadillac Eldorado. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It was an exotic of its day, this Toronado, the first front-wheel drive car made by GM since the 1934 Cord. With a 425ci V8 and a four barrel carburetor, it had plenty of horses and torque. The front-wheel drive required some specially designed tires (stiffening the sidewalls and side treads), and a little remedial training; it was a long, heavy clump of iron with a protruding proboscis using FWD. Driving a car that is pulling itself is rather different than driving one that's pushing itself from behind.<br /><br />It was a cruiser though. Put it on the interstate, crank it up, and glide across the concrete and asphalt roadway in smooth delight. Some time later a friend bought one; he called it the Blade Runner.</div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><font color="#3367d6" size="5">Ferrari "Dino" 246 GT</font></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Easily one of the sexiest cars ever, this was made for and named after Enzo Ferrari's son, Dino. The exquisite design remains one of the all-time most attractive from the Italian pantheon.<br /><br />The Dino was, truth be told, a little bare-boned and minimal-austere inside. And it was not comfortable to sit in. But it was beautiful. Enchanting. Irresistible. Thank you, Sergio Pininfarina.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWoeeOP4MaO8-ycLLC0fl_02EStdlR9V_VoYLztpgkx1Drcfu3JWz5NpxHPpsK4JMG1TXWSMyc9FMDHpK-37Wj6jhNlC_ou88uXVWzUeX24EeZnSXc2ZiPdyGOPkdf-jQ5N-Djm9UPvBk/s280/280px-Paris_-_Bonhams_2013_-_Ferrari_Dino_246_GT_Berlinetta_-_1973_-_001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="187" data-original-width="280" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWoeeOP4MaO8-ycLLC0fl_02EStdlR9V_VoYLztpgkx1Drcfu3JWz5NpxHPpsK4JMG1TXWSMyc9FMDHpK-37Wj6jhNlC_ou88uXVWzUeX24EeZnSXc2ZiPdyGOPkdf-jQ5N-Djm9UPvBk/w548-h366/280px-Paris_-_Bonhams_2013_-_Ferrari_Dino_246_GT_Berlinetta_-_1973_-_001.jpg" width="548" /></a></div><br /><br />Funny thing, though? It wasn't released as a Ferrari. Enzo didn't want to put his badge on a small V6 mid-engine car, the first such that Ferrari ever made. No matter how gorgeous it was. So it was a "Dino", not a Ferrari.<br /><br />With modest power and speed, the little beauty was breathtaking to drive, nimble as hell, quick to the touch, responsive, and gratifying on the curves. Comfort? Luxury? Eh, who cares. This is close to the ultimate in a road-commanding sports car.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Dino style by Pininfarina provided the DNA for the later 308 (Magnum PI's borrowed ride), another beauty. Apparently, Enzo had come around, because the 308 was badged with the prancing horse of Ferrari.<br /><br />The price? You don't want to ask. You really, really don't.<br /><br /><i>When I opened the beverage store for Richard, I put the voluptuous red Dino in the store for the holidays, grouped all the luxury items I had on display around the car, and invited any and all to sit in the driver's seat of this legendary car. The association alone was enough to stimulate impressive sales of all those luxury items. Sitting still, the Dino was inspiring.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><font color="#3367d6" size="5">Jaguar XK 120</font></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJX3dEQX6BePzYbyAeRHe_GQTGifzLsU8Q0MuFu1PEzhg9xBYvD9G4xfxJmxTqw4TEF8yRXqtN0Y9xW14gek2qO4bWolbRzN_iVdyCgg3iuFEL3OgPn9WKzpW68MvmB1qf1Pa8rSIy17g/s1280/jaguar-xk-120-se-ots-roadster-suberb-condition.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJX3dEQX6BePzYbyAeRHe_GQTGifzLsU8Q0MuFu1PEzhg9xBYvD9G4xfxJmxTqw4TEF8yRXqtN0Y9xW14gek2qO4bWolbRzN_iVdyCgg3iuFEL3OgPn9WKzpW68MvmB1qf1Pa8rSIy17g/w500-h375/jaguar-xk-120-se-ots-roadster-suberb-condition.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Yet another legendary car, the Jaguar XK 120. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;">I had already given my notice to Richard (I was bored and wanted to go back to the big city) and it was my last day. Richard called and asked if we had $25K in the store account, and I said sure.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>He then said <i>We stopped at a car auction in Missouri and couldn't resist bidding for a car. When a guy pulls up and offloads a Jaguar, sign for it and give him a check.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The hauler soon pulled up, offloaded the car, took the check, and handed me the keys.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">There I stood, keys in hand, admiring one of my all-time dream cars, the XK 120. in flawless cream acrylic and red leather seats with cream piping trim. Immaculate.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><i><div style="text-align: left;"><i>My last day,</i> I thought. <i>He delivers this car on my last day. Has my decision been hasty?</i></div></i><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I stood in admiration for quite some time. Then I walked inside and put the keys in the safe, closed it, and walked away.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And thus ended my exotic interlude.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-56839885560525653752021-09-02T11:41:00.000-07:002021-09-02T11:41:29.854-07:00Old Forester Birthday Bourbon, Vintage 1994, Bottled 2007, Consumed 2021<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Zp3c5fd66mBSgaSacLQ5HC0Ewy2bMEgxgLdlGt6HZWYa6CMPb-7-oKuR1los4b8NlgH5vQ4kwBogSeYHjtbXSgfFXQr2pbeK55O8pAW86jKIWzUKplBfqL4MYVtcawqxThG610O_A6U/s2048/23BAA6E6-D19D-4146-A0A8-F911632A3222.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Zp3c5fd66mBSgaSacLQ5HC0Ewy2bMEgxgLdlGt6HZWYa6CMPb-7-oKuR1los4b8NlgH5vQ4kwBogSeYHjtbXSgfFXQr2pbeK55O8pAW86jKIWzUKplBfqL4MYVtcawqxThG610O_A6U/w480-h640/23BAA6E6-D19D-4146-A0A8-F911632A3222.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;"><b>Old Forester Birthday Bourbon,<br />Vintage 1994, Bottled 2007</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><span style="font-family: verdana; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Can a giant industrial distillery create </b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>an artisanal masterpiece of Bourbon?</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I got together a casual group of Bourbon</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> drinkers---some fairly new to the spirit, some experienced drinkers, and some downright obsessed with the stuff---and offered up a chance to taste a bottle priced at $1400.00 on the secondary market.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: medium;">Here's the story...</span></b></div><div>In 2002, Brown-Forman, owners of Old Forester Kentucky Straight Bourbon, honored company founder George Garvin Brown with an annual release of Old Forester Birthday Bourbon in the month of September, his birth month This could not be just any bourbon, of course. Birthday Bourbon was created to represent the beginning of a tradition begun in 1870, so the Brown family, now well into its 6th generation of stewardship, created the requirements for Old Forester Birthday Bourbon.<div><br /></div><div>1. It must be from one day’s production run.</div><div>2. Barrels selected to become Birthday Bourbon must be aged in preferred areas in the barrel-aging houses that have demonstrated a traditional style and quality.</div><div>3. Each barrel is repeatedly assessed over the years by the Master Distiller and Master Taster, and must attain the highest rank possible within the brand’s internally imposed quality system…and must do so each time.</div><div>4. Total time in barrel, the number of barrels and release proof are determined by the tasting panel. The bourbon tends to be from 12-14-year-old whiskey with proof in the 90-100 range.</div><div><br /></div><div>This “Vintage Bourbon” immediately became popular with bourbon aficionados as it allowed a side-by-side comparison of, vintage to vintage, one of America's iconic bourbons.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bourbon has enjoyed a tremendous surge in popularity. As happens so often, when something becomes popular it usually becomes more expensive. Need we mention “Pappy” here.? (Oh, wait, we just did.)</div><div><br /></div><div>And so it was with Birthday Bourbon. The initial release price increased slowly</div><div>but the secondary market exploded. The once-yearly limited-release. tightly allocated by state and market, sold out almost immediately. Much of it was pre-sold and never saw the retail shelf. Collectors, enthusiasts, brokers, and auction houses </div><div>(flippers, as they're known in the trade) drove the prices higher and consequently made the bourbon ever harder to find.</div><div><br /></div><div>With a cursory internet scan, I saw my bottle of Birthday Bourbon from 1994, bottled in 2007, was selling for at least $1499.00. </div><div><br /></div><div><i>There was a catch, however: after several years of letting my bottle sit, an "idiot friend" (you know him; we all have at least one) was admiring my copious collection of spirits when I was briefly called away. When I returned I found the idiot friend had broken the seal, pulled the cork, and was blissfully sipping my Birthday Bourbon! For those who don't know, a broken seal on an opened bottle with an ounce missing loses much of its market value. That's why you always ask before opening.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Since I wasn't planning on going to the secondary market anyway---I was holding the bottle until I had a large crowd to share it with---when a friend called and said "Hey, we're doing a Bourbon Dinner! Can you be our 'expert commentator?', it seemed the perfect time to share this remarkable Birthday Bourbon.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>After all, the best whiskey is the one shared with friends.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh12Q9X33JIdTGFF9rcogW6cLUejQCQSpfv9T0SWZ_AkpMrhEq074HZVUEv7MUVLKEeweJodRQVz2aK9fSk-iGAFWFvh5Vp_uqZEqerfmGb2xfpcGho7hNyz0dmo3UYL3enGQYnDdKxJ2Y/s2048/OF+Birthday2004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh12Q9X33JIdTGFF9rcogW6cLUejQCQSpfv9T0SWZ_AkpMrhEq074HZVUEv7MUVLKEeweJodRQVz2aK9fSk-iGAFWFvh5Vp_uqZEqerfmGb2xfpcGho7hNyz0dmo3UYL3enGQYnDdKxJ2Y/s320/OF+Birthday2004.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763;">Old Forester<br />Birthday Bourbon 2007<br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Seal broken, "neck pour" gone</span></span></b></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #073763;"><b>SO WHAT DOES A $1400 BOURBON TASTE LIKE?</b> </span></div><div><br /></div><div>Pretty damned good.</div><div><br /></div><div>The color is reddish-brown with a light orange rim. There's an enticing nose of sweet caramel and vanilla clearly structured in the characteristic Old Forester style but richer, smoother, with an intriguing contrast between raisin and crisp apple. (How did they do <i>that</i>?)<br /><br />The dark caramel and sweet vanilla continue seamlessly into the taste, with a sudden spicy snap of cinnamon to liven things up, then soothing fresh mint for counterbalance. All these aromas and tastes continue into a lingering finish. This Birthday Bourbon is a testimony to the wonders of long maturation and the art of a master blender.</div><div><br /></div><div>As to the never-ending debate over the astonishing price levels these bottles can reach, I'm staying neutral. That's how the market works, after all. All I can say is simply this: the folks who tasted the Birthday Bourbon 2009 that night realized they were tasting a magnificent bourbon---and it may have tasted even better after I told them a replacement bottle might cost them $1400.00!<br /><br />The Birthday Bourbon for 2021 is being released this month, September, with an SRP of $130. If you see a bottle, buy it. </div></div><div><br /></div><div>NOTE: I tasted the Birthday Bourbon in the best possible way. I used the <a href="https://www.theneatglass.com/">NEAT Tasting Glass</a>. It's my preferred tasting glass. I highly recommend it to anyone who is serious about spirits. The design of the glass avoids the burn of the volatile alcohols by shunting them out to the rim and creates a "sweet spot" in the center, allowing the aromatics to shine through in all their complexities.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEmvPCr28-KBpypB0uZRi3X0EaXInOz3GSXdvwcSDC13KChX7ruU2TemU6HdsXMi7-JBGhsHJmOIcMbK6UQ3zqHdRxxiiXJ93jQI87I7aqqKQgTwgq5VD4QWmv6zS-y-oJafElpMOPGA/s762/Neat+Elite.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="572" data-original-width="762" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEmvPCr28-KBpypB0uZRi3X0EaXInOz3GSXdvwcSDC13KChX7ruU2TemU6HdsXMi7-JBGhsHJmOIcMbK6UQ3zqHdRxxiiXJ93jQI87I7aqqKQgTwgq5VD4QWmv6zS-y-oJafElpMOPGA/s320/Neat+Elite.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NEAT Elite Glass<br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Available at <a href="http://thegrommet.com">thegrommet</a> or Amazon</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-52935081253200636852021-05-12T09:52:00.000-07:002024-03-04T22:35:27.225-08:00My Life In Cars, Part III: The Seventies & EightiesTowards the end of the Seventies, there was another monumental change. My teaching job was vulnerable due to lower enrollment and teacher union laws. Even with tenure I expected to lose my position in a year. Feeling the cold bite of another midwestern winter looming, I decided to emigrate to Texas. Dallas, specifically.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdPhkvVoFNNB0E-pZHfenhpgvKl9aQJlCEffgDgqApq-uNmzZ8Thaf4HcGVpXor3FNKJsMraTLHrsoM5xqlvuXe3KzIdt2hJ7afnOtvhBCKdgu8Hijvl4_sXLJiE5hZI6WH-keSxu-EIM/s640/Pontiac+Astre.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdPhkvVoFNNB0E-pZHfenhpgvKl9aQJlCEffgDgqApq-uNmzZ8Thaf4HcGVpXor3FNKJsMraTLHrsoM5xqlvuXe3KzIdt2hJ7afnOtvhBCKdgu8Hijvl4_sXLJiE5hZI6WH-keSxu-EIM/w300-h400/Pontiac+Astre.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;"><b>Pontiac Astre</b></span></div><div><br /></div>I had acquired a brand new Pontiac Astre, courtesy of a favorable discount from a student's father, and drove down to Texas with my wife, a toddler, and an infant. I came to hate that car, a Chevy Vega by any other name. It was pure Seventies in conception and design, and an example of all that was wrong with American cars at the time, especially Chevrolet/GM cars.<div><br /></div><div>The Astre was an early indicator of just how banal American cars had become. No grace, no power, no zest, and clunky steering. It would be the last two-door coupe I would own. With two kids, the struggle in and out of the car was annoying.. Worst of all? The car had no air conditioning. And I had just driven it to Texas. In the summer.<br /><br />I replaced the Astre with a Ford Fairmont, which was okay but not much more than that. Adequate. Functional. And it had air conditioning.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then I had a series of executive cars---Cutlasses, Buicks, a Chevy Citation, insipid cars like that---for several years. They were free, sure, but beyond that just average. Adequate. Functional.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">The only release from tedious auto boredom was my frequent trips to Europe for the wine business, when I would get to rent and drive some (mostly) fine European cars. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihcF6P8WY70Ytk-pLa5tC1AKIh80mfmSbbVAFv0XheRk3d0e0KNXHs1cOPQHjK3NBcvzmGIv8GodNQ4huI-RED3YNHUmdOwLvqKsIBENfGuFAIwHlBCRkJKgWXU7MGIvkINfU761Xbwus/s849/096F362F-4A9B-4431-A469-DC1D5404929B.jpeg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="637" data-original-width="849" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihcF6P8WY70Ytk-pLa5tC1AKIh80mfmSbbVAFv0XheRk3d0e0KNXHs1cOPQHjK3NBcvzmGIv8GodNQ4huI-RED3YNHUmdOwLvqKsIBENfGuFAIwHlBCRkJKgWXU7MGIvkINfU761Xbwus/s320/096F362F-4A9B-4431-A469-DC1D5404929B.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>XR4TI</b><br />A spoiler and a mini-whaletail?<br />A bit of stylistic overkill. perhaps?</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I recall an exciting couple of weeks in what we knew as a <b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Merkur XR4TI/Ford Sierra </span></b>and the first impressive diesel car, a <span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>SEAT Diesel Leon</b></span> (superb fit and finish, powerful, and then-stunning mpg).</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But back in the States, it was mostly hum-drum driving days. The one exception was a long-term loaner from my older brother, whose hobby was cars. He had so many, he asked me if I wanted to drive his Ford Crown Victoria, which he had meticulously restored. It was beautiful; and it was a road cruiser, perfect for driving the endless metroplex of highways around Dallas-Fort Worth.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;"><b>Ford Crown Victoria</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8yXpFvDdfSJvkKEY5AEhyphenhyphenzBc5kPNdudrWZGoeYwOiAVih6Flj7r7nbrWg2M289zMuQQrpsUFQO5mDV2yji08Y9Dh7qx9hSEW4fA1tvdpI8oQfwrmsl_xgN82cqswJg-REDZ_T-8XxZg/s500/56+Ford+Crown+Vic+bsabarnowl+CC.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="500" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8yXpFvDdfSJvkKEY5AEhyphenhyphenzBc5kPNdudrWZGoeYwOiAVih6Flj7r7nbrWg2M289zMuQQrpsUFQO5mDV2yji08Y9Dh7qx9hSEW4fA1tvdpI8oQfwrmsl_xgN82cqswJg-REDZ_T-8XxZg/w500-h375/56+Ford+Crown+Vic+bsabarnowl+CC.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font color="#b51200">Ooh, let's go ridin'</font></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font color="#b51200">Cruisin' down the open road</font></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font color="#b51200">We can put the top down</font></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font color="#b51200">Listen to the radio</font></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font color="#b51200">Big ol' <strike>Buick</strike> Ford</font></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font color="#b51200">And a big ol' sky</font></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font color="#b51200">Wheels on fire</font></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font color="#b51200">And I'll tell you why</font></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font color="#b51200">I got a hot rod heart</font></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font color="#b51200">John Fogarty</font></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #134f5c; font-size: medium;"><b>From the Fifties To The Sixties In The Eighties: </b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #134f5c; font-size: medium;"><b>1963 Chevy II/Nova</b></span></div><div><br /></div><div>During an unexpected (and blessedly brief) family trip back to Georgia, I got another car, a flashback to my high school years. As usual, my father kept randomly acquiring cars. No particular reason; he just had a fondness for cars of the 50s--70s. He could tinker, restore, repair or upgrade, then start a new project at his own pace. When I arrived he had recently finished his latest project...and suddenly offered it to me</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqG1i3ogH5JizpjsycsN1HTYUu_veBi8PivhMP_hItC_LXukokQAGr1e-dGCoY1u4HZfPdgxV3KuAXt1LTjbpLqVSDdjKKTRQbX50KBjHeGFznoL0QHmKs30OenJC4VJo72Lp44wSftPk/s1920/1963-chevrolet-nova-chevy-ii.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1920" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqG1i3ogH5JizpjsycsN1HTYUu_veBi8PivhMP_hItC_LXukokQAGr1e-dGCoY1u4HZfPdgxV3KuAXt1LTjbpLqVSDdjKKTRQbX50KBjHeGFznoL0QHmKs30OenJC4VJo72Lp44wSftPk/w640-h480/1963-chevrolet-nova-chevy-ii.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>1963 Chevy II</b><br /><span style="color: #0b5394;">Not actually my car. A new showroom model. <br />You'll have to imagine this after several years and many hard miles <br />with that brilliant paint faded to a dull, pale lemon yellow.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>The Chevy II/ Chevy Nova went from concept to production in the blink of an eye. The abject failure of the Corvair had stunned Chevrolet and the Ford Falcon had put FoMoCo in a commanding position in the small, simple, affordable and economical category that had become popular. Chevrolet needed something and they needed it fast. As one of the executives freely commented, "We didn't have time to doodle on designs and fine-tune the features"</div><div><br /></div><div>Chevrolet wanted it quick and simple, and that is precisely what they got: a small in-line four-cylinder with just enough base power to satisfy the average driver . But in typical strategy the Chevy II/Nova provided a basic template on which they could attach anything they wished.</div><div><br /></div><div>The modifications began immediately. The base package was an in-line four-cylinder. with a column-mounted three-speed manual. But four-cylinder cars were a tough sell in America at that time. Most people opted for the in-line six-cylinder, a sturdy little workhorse of an engine. I got the inline-six.<br /><br />Unfortunately. I also got the manual three-speed column-mounted transmission, the slowest, clunkiest, most awkward, Rube Goldberg-designed contraption possible. </div><div><br />It was a cumbersome assemblage of a gearshift in the steering column with a linkage through the dash and firewall into the engine compartment, then another link down to the gears.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD3MRGgK3GKmEvX0ghGNn7UB1ElhGQE6lGFMPBuFcv8ekf7qiQx6SJQEiWntaUl48UsEKOZ-jPht2HxBoReeOAQi0JqL4vrZb792bZYGFjTmFPdW3yEcnqUXNlfy0UAiveln-GCK9xyV8/s297/3tree.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="290" data-original-width="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD3MRGgK3GKmEvX0ghGNn7UB1ElhGQE6lGFMPBuFcv8ekf7qiQx6SJQEiWntaUl48UsEKOZ-jPht2HxBoReeOAQi0JqL4vrZb792bZYGFjTmFPdW3yEcnqUXNlfy0UAiveln-GCK9xyV8/s0/3tree.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three-On-The-Tree</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>You had to be able to coordinate the use of the clutch, the gas and the brake. Depress the clutch, move the lever toward you and down into 1st. As you slooowly ease off the clutch, you simultaneously press on the gas. But first gear only puts the car in Low and you must shift from 1st through Neutral, away from and up to 2nd. When the engine begins to labor, you must clutch, pull the lever through Neutral into 3d gear, your cruise speed.</div><div><br /></div><div>If you slow down to a lower speed, you must go through the ~depress clutch, foot off gas pedal, gear change, release clutch, press gas pedal~ process again. If you don't coordinate the engine gear and the speed, the engine will either shudder and die, or conceivably, blow up. If you fail to coordinate the gear change and clutch, your gears will grind and possibly break.<br /><br />The nature of the three-on-the-tree design had an inherent flaw: Since the car was a budget econobox with lots of miles on it the complex multiple linkages had a tendency to jam and lock up frequently...so you had to stop the car, pull off the road, pop the hood, wriggle into the engine compartment to jostle the linkages so they would move again. Despite tightening and copious lubrication, it was a constant problem.</div><div><br /></div><div>And remember: while you're clutching and shifting and braking, pedals going up and down, gears going in and out while you listen to your engine telling you if everything is okay ---you have to be aware of cars and people and road signs and traffic lights.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">My First Station Wagon</span></b></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwxb6CfUrOj5oXatx-ZbUWYb0ou1td-9yAcs_ND0Xfrx6B9GpzO65HXT4dJbGKmVkF7w0ZI9eXwxSge2hrEw08WyJIsZU6JkdYl9us4oTlrifRzFIy5m00F04ZWf3kvppo7N1sa0M_k3c/s640/Chevy+Cavalier+Wagon.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="640" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwxb6CfUrOj5oXatx-ZbUWYb0ou1td-9yAcs_ND0Xfrx6B9GpzO65HXT4dJbGKmVkF7w0ZI9eXwxSge2hrEw08WyJIsZU6JkdYl9us4oTlrifRzFIy5m00F04ZWf3kvppo7N1sa0M_k3c/w400-h225/Chevy+Cavalier+Wagon.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394"><b>1985 Chevrolet Cavalier Wagon</b></font></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br />Got a new family car, a Chevy Cavalier Wagon. This time I just wanted utility; I was looking for something else and the sales guy made a sweet deal. Turned out to be one of my better decisions. The Cav was just the right size. We made sure of that by taking it on an epic vacation road trip to West Texas, Midland-Odessa (don't bother), Carlsbad Caverns, El Paso, White Sands, Ruidoso, Santa Fe, Tucumcari, Amarillo, and the Palo Duro Canyon.. Excellent trip in a hot Texas summer and the car handled it beautifully. Fit the four of us just fine, luggage and all, and for the time was stingy with gas mileage. Drove crisply without that pillowy vague feel some Chevys have. My wife drove it when she left for Milwaukee to not be my wife, and then my son drove it for years until a rod went out..<br /><br />Sturdy, moderately comfortable, dependable. Not fancy, but it did what it was designed to do. Can't ask for much more than that from a car. Especially an American car of the time.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2BeLLTZO1lo-e4tne1UhYl4rBye36Pp8KmHP2zlf9t8Opuwos3zzHY1cziJ7ElbLysJSyaoJZ98gNvSDbbZ_E5fbDbDuzWguhVlGrKQTmnpDsUuUg9oct8Vjdvk9hXtqDZbAx4s-CcVw/s1000/B44B5BF6-8D13-4C4B-83D5-EAD3C72E6321.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2BeLLTZO1lo-e4tne1UhYl4rBye36Pp8KmHP2zlf9t8Opuwos3zzHY1cziJ7ElbLysJSyaoJZ98gNvSDbbZ_E5fbDbDuzWguhVlGrKQTmnpDsUuUg9oct8Vjdvk9hXtqDZbAx4s-CcVw/w640-h480/B44B5BF6-8D13-4C4B-83D5-EAD3C72E6321.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">The Indestructible Volkswagen</span></b> </div><div><br /></div><div>Around that time I began to think of my older son. Within a couple of years he'd be of driving age. There was a ramshackle car lot I passed occasionally and one day I noticed a bright baby blue VW Beetle shining in the sun. I had to take a look.</div><div><br /></div><div>Turned out the guy got it at an auction, as part of a parcel. The car had been abandoned. Hmmm. The body was in great shape, no rust showing, and the interior had been kept tidy. And to my surprise the engine started right up. Ran a little ragged, but nothing a tune-up and plugs wouldn't fix.<br /><br />The dealer didn't seem to care about the car and was happy at the idea of a quick sale. So I offered a few hundred bucks. Cash. Tires, new brakes and a tune-up, and I was the proud owner of a Bug!<br /><br />That little car was indestructible. Almost no maintenance, fun to drive, and dependable. It was a perfect starter car. Unfortunately, my son wasn't the least bit interested in learning to drive a stick. So we ended up getting him an automatic, and I happily drove the Bug every chance I got.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last, and least, the only Chrysler product I will ever own (have owned?)</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;"><b>Dodge Omni</b></span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZAWO1FbrXZA5XqGxEYTnyrAw9CDbgFQ6o3UK4i1Qu1dOxZaIlvrXJ6AYkugnkit79D-CA6UJvpF0sonlzMw7MnyiORsjOEzZRHHW1bj6CNJ7zaIrAiAmByNkFty1xbduiUHp_vgk0Oqs/s640/2FB647B8-86D4-43BF-90DC-8F9CD2C61355.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZAWO1FbrXZA5XqGxEYTnyrAw9CDbgFQ6o3UK4i1Qu1dOxZaIlvrXJ6AYkugnkit79D-CA6UJvpF0sonlzMw7MnyiORsjOEzZRHHW1bj6CNJ7zaIrAiAmByNkFty1xbduiUHp_vgk0Oqs/w640-h480/2FB647B8-86D4-43BF-90DC-8F9CD2C61355.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><span style="color: #0b5394;">The Seventies and Eighties were tumultuous times for the American auto industry. The U.S. industry had been smug, arrogant, and slow to respond to what customers needed or wanted. Meanwhile, the Japanese and Europeans were doing some exciting things. Throw in economic turmoil, a couple of gas crises and never-before-seen price increases, and suddenly Americans were looking for fuel-efficient compact cars. Which most American carmakers did not have; and even if they did the cars weren’t very good.</span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;">Of the remaining conglomerate behemoths, the one who had the least funding and resources was Chrysler/Dodge/Plymouth, and they were totally focused on their new “K Car” design. </span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;">At first Chrysler simply bought some Mitsubishi cars and slapped different nameplates on them. Eh. Lukewarm response, so Chrysler went the required one step further with an amalgam by Simca and VW that eventually became the American-built Dodge Omni: the first front-wheel-drive, transverse-mounted, economical, Euro-styled “econoboxes.”</span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;">The Omni sold well and had a good run from 1978--1990. Some people even liked it. To me it was a shapeless, boxy crate with big, fat, overstuffed (velour) seats and a weird, mushy suspension. As American cars are wont to do, it got the superpower treatment to boost it up to faux-muscle car level, but that always seemed faintly ridiculous.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>The Omni was not a pleasant car to drive. The ergonomics made the interior awkward. The seats perched high and had virtually no support. Worst of all, there was no attempt to design the cabin around the occupants. There was nothing but bland space. With the goofy projecting "safety bumpers," the slab-nosed front grill and the chunky squared-off design, the Omni seemed awkward, ill-formed</div><div><br /></div><div>I needed a beater. Something basic. Functional. The owner claimed it was fine but seemed curiously...unemotional, unattached, a flat affect neutral. Once I had the car, I realized why, and came to feel the same way about it. I unloaded it at the first opportunity to another guy who needed a beater. He said it was "okay" but quickly used it as a trade-in the first chance he got.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then a new cycle began and everything changed</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-52713872247951351822021-04-04T17:41:00.001-07:002021-04-04T17:41:47.934-07:00Things You Learn At Wine Competitions: Marquette<p><br /></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIgYdnodWSC6NhwXye4HQC4D-40nNn7Ti43fVBgW6RtRB4RJV6QQnZijOdzQh_96LZsfezeKlDAne4PFlITUq96p-vhGIirkdf0B9utdJF88vopqPY6E781foCJTACKWbtpBAEO5MaxLw/s653/50aca5_055fb85764e143b9812ee0f45d85b871_mv2.webp" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="653" data-original-width="422" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIgYdnodWSC6NhwXye4HQC4D-40nNn7Ti43fVBgW6RtRB4RJV6QQnZijOdzQh_96LZsfezeKlDAne4PFlITUq96p-vhGIirkdf0B9utdJF88vopqPY6E781foCJTACKWbtpBAEO5MaxLw/w414-h640/50aca5_055fb85764e143b9812ee0f45d85b871_mv2.webp" width="414" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">Faith, Hope & Charity Marquette<br />Central Oregon, 2017</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p>One of the best benefits of judging at wine competitions is being able to get a broad overview of the current wine scene. Another is the delight of discovering a grape variety you've heard of but never had before.</p><p>That occurred at the 2021 McMinnville Wine & Food judging.</p><p>Our panel tasted the single entry of Marquette, and all of us were charmed by the wine. </p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: medium;"><b>Marquette? Wazzat???</b></span> </p><p>Marquette is a cold-hardy hybrid grape variety developed at the University of Minnesota and released in 2006.<br /><br />Marquette is a remarkably tasty wine. Thank goodness we were all seasoned professionals, since our first impulse after tasting the Marquette was to step outside, sit on the grass in the sunshine and finish off the bottle. </p><p>Winemakers were interested in this new grape, partly because of the hybrid's ability to resist frigid winters, partly because the initial trials tasted so damn good. Oregon, Washington, and Idaho face a constant threat of frigid winters and icy blasts, so Eastern Oregon, Eastern Washington, and Idaho winemakers were intrigued.</p><p>But cold-hardy isn't the only attribute needed. The grape also has to produce sugars, tannin balance, lively acids and fruit.</p><p>And that is exactly what Marquette does.</p><p>The University of Minnesota describes Marquette as being "a cousin of Frontenac and a grandson of Pinot Noir, " and tasters opined that it had "a mouthfeel somewhere between Pinot Noir and Merlot." Frontenac doesn't ring many bells, but say Pinot Noir and Merlot in Oregon and you'll spark some interest.</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhXMI-tf06fBPIAFnrGCbZjR5KCb8wiQIXvAqm3SGTiYNf1o8geoNPwTBIxMNxfJPGG_rZFtWNVdj0JnwKmJrHmOTih4EJ125egBh_uNBpF9dhq0mM21lI7vg50JAGFDToT_coAi1_uIo/s128/marquette.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="85" data-original-width="128" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhXMI-tf06fBPIAFnrGCbZjR5KCb8wiQIXvAqm3SGTiYNf1o8geoNPwTBIxMNxfJPGG_rZFtWNVdj0JnwKmJrHmOTih4EJ125egBh_uNBpF9dhq0mM21lI7vg50JAGFDToT_coAi1_uIo/w200-h133/marquette.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Finger Lakes Grape Council</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://napavalleyregister.com/wine/marquette-a-grape-worth-getting-to-know/article_f1d3ae9e-2a20-11e2-be32-0019bb2963f4.html">For more information on Marquette click on this excellent article by</a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://napavalleyregister.com/wine/marquette-a-grape-worth-getting-to-know/article_f1d3ae9e-2a20-11e2-be32-0019bb2963f4.html">Barbara Trigg in the Napa Valley Register.</a></p><p><a href="https://www.faithhopeandcharityevents.com/product-page/2017-marquette">Faith, Hope & Charity Winery</a> is located in Central Oregon near Bend and Redmond. Terrebonne, to be precise. The winery got its name from The Sisters (Faith, Hope & Charity), those craggy mountains looming to the west.</p><p>Let's cut to the chase, or uncork the wine, and talk about taste:</p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;"><b>Faith, Hope and Charity Marquette, Central Oregon, 2017</b></span></p><p>This one jumps out of the glass with a blast of exuberant cherry-berry fruit and a gush of tart blackberry contained by assertive acids and "tender tannins" (a wine geek way of saying the tannins won't numb your tongue). </p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Thank goodness we were all seasoned professionals, since our first impulse after tasting the Marquette was to step outside, sit on the grass in the sunshine and finish off the bottle. </i></span></p><p>The wine is a joyous explosion of fruit: cranberry, pomegranate, black cherry, marionberry, even fresh blueberry, currants. But not jammy or sweet. More like a well-made red sangria, with fresh, lively, and slightly tart fruit acids to perk up the palate. There's also a whiff of clove spice to enhance the brightness.</p><p>The wine is a fruit bomb, but not a jam bomb. It's refreshing, light and thirst-quenching, perfect for a summer day, perhaps served with a salad nicoise; or sone charcuterie with rillettes and char-toasted bread. Heck, you could even go Californian with avocado toast, piled high and studded with sweet red pepper chunks. You really can't go wrong with this family-and-friends charmer.</p><p>More good news: the winemaker didn't wish to suppress the fresh fruit--after all, that is its central nature--so he rested the wine in neutral oak. Good call! But there's some potentially unwelcome news as well: They made only 120 cases of this little sweetheart. but, hey, wouldn't this be the perfect time to take a trip to Central Oregon?</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><br />Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-40832818160073353332021-03-31T10:24:00.000-07:002021-03-31T10:24:34.259-07:00The 2021 McMinnvillle Wine & Food Competition Picks A Long List of Winners<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkAEr5ZMckz3PuQDCNL5F6xZGFzVQL3Lju0BjO-_pvVUCQXGml87A78uWdFaZ3ONJYZy_Sl6RIjC6DrFG-tpc_ljzBYIXl0Jsyd2C_jmAy0fiAFKc5hfZwFvhg8rXUMsHgZXCcCZS0KXw/s2048/MWC+Masked+judges.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkAEr5ZMckz3PuQDCNL5F6xZGFzVQL3Lju0BjO-_pvVUCQXGml87A78uWdFaZ3ONJYZy_Sl6RIjC6DrFG-tpc_ljzBYIXl0Jsyd2C_jmAy0fiAFKc5hfZwFvhg8rXUMsHgZXCcCZS0KXw/w640-h480/MWC+Masked+judges.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Who are these (mostly) masked folks at Abbey Road Farms on a perfect day? They're sacrificing the sunshine so they can trudge into a dark and social distance-correct hall to taste and judge the wines of Oregon.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br />The 2021 McMinnville Wine Competition has been completed. Thanks to the organizers for being flexible enough to deal with the problems of COVID-19.</p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">On a perfectly bright sunny day in March at the gorgeous <a href="https://abbeyroadfarm.com/index.html">Abbey Road Farm and Vineyard</a> this weekend, the McMinnville Wine Competition judges tasted their way through an impressive array of Oregon wines.</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-32ce13af-7fff-3bc4-ba60-c18663047da5"><div><span><br /></span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAucNdvhL-IIUZkyI8SFhuNBY4dyL03_AvtAw7jSe7-2Tu7fBJIZVJVUh_zGWV8T7gp4sZS2xT_g39oM7LIqkOz2gmiU_Tpo1fv7BH-wzIML6cKNfOL_5lsTjLmwwUOQ6AauGKqJKRJbA/s324/Abbey+Road+Farm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="243" data-original-width="324" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAucNdvhL-IIUZkyI8SFhuNBY4dyL03_AvtAw7jSe7-2Tu7fBJIZVJVUh_zGWV8T7gp4sZS2xT_g39oM7LIqkOz2gmiU_Tpo1fv7BH-wzIML6cKNfOL_5lsTjLmwwUOQ6AauGKqJKRJbA/w400-h300/Abbey+Road+Farm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Abbey Road Farm<br />The view is splendid; so are the grounds.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx1TRb_fnVF8etUDRR2nASV-5Dib-7naczwi4PlKvCW1AjQJTV-gYkc4NjbGB5ipTFB1gV63e25vZR7X9aKpg-KsFYD0yYvGvcX3mTfHyVcfSnjf6H5C3ztTzlawsqDIcfCQ2sbXKkj4A/s324/Abbey+Road+Farm2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="216" data-original-width="324" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx1TRb_fnVF8etUDRR2nASV-5Dib-7naczwi4PlKvCW1AjQJTV-gYkc4NjbGB5ipTFB1gV63e25vZR7X9aKpg-KsFYD0yYvGvcX3mTfHyVcfSnjf6H5C3ztTzlawsqDIcfCQ2sbXKkj4A/w400-h266/Abbey+Road+Farm2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Abbey Road Farm<br />The facilities are first-rate.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">T</span><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">HE TAKEAWAY: </span></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once again Oregon proved its versatility, its variety of varietals and styles</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: 700; white-space: pre-wrap;">, and its obvious ability to produce outstanding wines from every part of the state’s many AVAs.</span></span></span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Is the Willamette Valley still the king?</span> </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sure. But the Umpqua, Rogue, Applegate, Hood River,and the far eastern reaches of Milton-Freewater (the Oregon side of Walla Walla) cumulatively offer an incredibly broad range of impressive wines. But it’s not </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">just </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pinot noir. There’s stunning quality on offer from other grapes and blends as well.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">But There is Much, Much More!</span></b>
Grenache--bubbly, rose, white and red--is a true standout grape here. No one ever thought of Cabernet Franc as an Oregon icon; but there were several on display, preening their sleek black cloaks, perfumed with tobacco and licorice spice and dried herbs. Thirsting for some deep, dark compelling Mourvedre, peach-kissed Viognier or an easy-going fruit-forward Roussanne? Oregon has you covered.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Syrah, Sangiovese, Gamay, Tempranillo; Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, Riesling: the roll call goes on and on. You’ll find it in Oregon, and it will be good. How about a Barbera that’s better than most of the Barbera coming out of the Piedmont these days. If you want it, Oregon probably makes it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To give you an idea of what I’m talking about, here’s a list of wines chosen as “Double Gold” winners. What’s Double Gold? That is when all the judges on a panel agree that a wine is unanimously voted Gold.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #134f5c;">Double Gold Wines 2021</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sparking and semi-sparkling</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> 40:31 Wines 2017 Blanc de Noir GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Syrah/Shiraz </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Awen Winecraft 2017 Syrah GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Malbec </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Barking Frog 2017 Malbec GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pinot Noir 2018-19 Bluebird Hill Cellars 2018 Pinot Noir GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pinot Noir 2018-19 Brandborg 2018 Fleur de Lis White Pinot Noir GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pinot Noir 2018-19 Brandborg 2018 2018 Bench Lands Pinot Noir GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Other Red Varieties </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bravuro Cellars 2018 Petite Sirah GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Chardonnay </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cardwell Hill Cellars 2019 The Bard Chard BEST CHARDONNAY</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pinot Noir 2016 and older </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cardwell Hill Cellars 2016 Pommard Block GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cabernet Franc </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cathedral Ridge Winery 2016 Cabernet Franc Reserve GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">White Blends </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cliff Creek Cellars 2019 MRV GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Cabernet Franc Griffin Creek 2017 Cabernet Franc GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Sparking and semi-sparkling </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Iris Vineyards 2018 Blanc De Noirs GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pinot Noir 2018-19</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Iris Vineyards 2018 Pinot Noir GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Pinot Gris </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Knostman Family Winery 2018 Pinot Gris GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Red Blends </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Noble Estate 2018 Ruby GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Rose </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Parkhurst Wine Cellars 2019 Grenache Rose GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Barbera </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> <span> </span><span> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Parrett Mountain Cellars 2018 Barbera GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tempranillo </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Reustle Prayer Rock Vineyards 2018 Tempranillo Winemaker's Reserve GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pinot Noir 2018-19 </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Roshni 2019 Roshni Vineyard GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">White Blends South Stage Cellars 2019 Romeo & Juliet GG/BEST OF SHOW /BEST WHITE</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pinot Noir </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2017 Tresori Vineyards 2017 Pinot Noir GG</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pinot Noir </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2017 Utopia 2017 Pinot Noir 2017 GG</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The entire list runs much longer, but this is supposed to be a brief article. Still, the diversity, the range, and the impressive level of excellence put Oregon firmly among the great wine areas of the world.
In subsequent posts, I'll add some musings on some personal favorites I discovered in the competition.</span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-68738274668260539272021-03-15T17:19:00.003-07:002021-03-15T17:19:36.693-07:00Every Exit Is An Entry Somewhere Else: From the Military to the University<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><font color="#073763" size="5"><b>From the military to the university.</b></font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjVN4x9nYxgcIjIzqEritJGSn3V7Pi3vFmZe1ViPOa2fNBd-XotrYDjtHuCEmjPaDgDy_RmeOrNcUQB95nzp3zOVCTjfGVdPCGrRsC6jO-rpcAF4OKwimv5BlN-ndvPlBYJvB60zw7g8k/s2048/stoppard+exit+entry+quote.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjVN4x9nYxgcIjIzqEritJGSn3V7Pi3vFmZe1ViPOa2fNBd-XotrYDjtHuCEmjPaDgDy_RmeOrNcUQB95nzp3zOVCTjfGVdPCGrRsC6jO-rpcAF4OKwimv5BlN-ndvPlBYJvB60zw7g8k/w400-h225/stoppard+exit+entry+quote.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#073763">Tom Stoppard's famous line in Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead,<br />where everything that happens on stage is what happens when everyone<br /> in Shakespeare's Hamlet goes off stage.</font></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Towards the end of my time in the Air Force, I applied for and was accepted to a Fellowship program for prospective teachers. It was an unbelievable offer: full four year Fellowship at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, free tuition, a stipend of $166 a month during the school year, GI Bill money, working with educational professionals from the university and the public schools, targeting educationally disadvantaged or challenged students and developing processes of remediation. Also, it was the home town of my new wife. So passed four years. Wonderful years. Some of the most vital and fulfilling years of my life.</div><div><br />I graduated with honors and landed a job at one of the best high schools in the country, so it was a good journey to a splendid destination.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU2D6dLdtc9YyYp0kDzRv0f7bsufzkEU4_LmWNt1gjvsgnUc_EIElfatihh-4-5ykJ_SOLY0OWx_atotKroEc6ENjRYKbNdcqDtv9_A_jG4eP5oUymSaKdEgAYSc8Bq3cv0lF25amtPbg/s600/UWM+Alumnus+Hall.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU2D6dLdtc9YyYp0kDzRv0f7bsufzkEU4_LmWNt1gjvsgnUc_EIElfatihh-4-5ykJ_SOLY0OWx_atotKroEc6ENjRYKbNdcqDtv9_A_jG4eP5oUymSaKdEgAYSc8Bq3cv0lF25amtPbg/w500-h333/UWM+Alumnus+Hall.JPG" width="500" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#073763"><b>My Introduction to the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee</b><br />A 14 bedroom Tudor Revival built in 1920, purchased by<br />Milwaukee Teachers College (forerunner of UWM) in 1949.<br />Now the UWM Alumni Hall.</font></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>When I arrived in Wisconsin, I was asked to go to this address, sitting in an enclosed estate near the U., right on the bluff overlooking Lake Michigan. This was my Fellowship Team headquarters (only for the first year, but still...). Our orientation was held in the formal music and dance recital room with parquet floors and stately leaded glass windows looking out over the private estate. It was quite a beautiful day in quite a beautiful place.<br /><br /><b><font color="#073763">Project HIT (High Impact Team) </font></b>was a joint-venture of the Department of Education, the Milwaukee Public School System, and the UWM School of Education. It consisted of a team of Education Undergraduates, high level MPS veterans, and an interdisciplinary cadre of university professors and specialists. The concept was simple but profound: to take prospective teachers going through a usual degree program, ally them with mentors from the public schools coordinated with different university specialists and advisors, to train and direct these student-fellows into becoming better teachers by focusing on one problematic school each year that asked to host the team.<br /><br />The team was to observe, analyze, and diagnose potential paths of remediation, create strategies to remediate, and then implement them. Each program would then be evaluated, both within the team and by outside specialists.<br /><br />We would learn. Then we would learn by doing. Then we would analyze what we learned from doing. All while keeping an intense focus on the individual students, their problems, their progress or lack thereof. We did not restrict ourselves to education in class only. We also studied behavioral issues that impacted their attitude and actions.<br /><br />This was heady stuff. We learned something in an academic classroom, then with the assistance of experienced and accomplished advisors, we implemented what we had just learned in a real-time, high-pressure environment. Because this was all interdisciplinary/team-focused each of our specialties was less important than the group process of analysis/remediation. As one of the leaders put it, "You're not an English teacher. You are a Teacher whose specialty is teaching English."<br /><br /></div><div>I was ecstatic. Here I was experiencing a lifelong dream I had never voiced, going to college. And not just college, but a dynamic, integrated approach of talented and dedicated experts working with us to make our education more about a profession than simply a degree.<br /><br />Taking up to 18 credits a semester, working jobs up to 35 hours a week and full-time summer, teaching a minimum of 20 hours a week in classroom, working with my team---I look back on it now and wonder how I could have done that? Youth helped, of course. Desire as well. And the realization I already knew, that I was by my nature devoted to learning. That feast was what sustained me during those times. I was a glutton.<br /><br />I took what jobs were available. One summer I worked Security during a labor strike at Harley-Davidson, walking the strike line with a guard dog. The next I worked the midnight shift loading railroad boxcars with donut flour and supplies. Which sounds okay---I mean, donuts, right?---until you factor in how many 100 lb. bags of flour can be loaded into one boxcar. Hand-loaded and stacked, mind you. Higher than my head In precise layered patterns. No palletization used.</div><div><br />I'd like to say I got buff that summer, but I didn't. More aching back, liniment and agonizing wrists than anything.<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzzqfcAcKRJe5ZrOPadTVlSo_-nS2lLXbvTTXfjdMViydudD4IyFv2ZkSzcRNLqt9cdHGVA7Pd9zp0XQrcAhvlUqyTbdY_nh7Kez5f2nKIgyaJthDRCVWaXDhU65B1JaT-SNJ07CzAER4/s600/UWM+student+union.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="401" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzzqfcAcKRJe5ZrOPadTVlSo_-nS2lLXbvTTXfjdMViydudD4IyFv2ZkSzcRNLqt9cdHGVA7Pd9zp0XQrcAhvlUqyTbdY_nh7Kez5f2nKIgyaJthDRCVWaXDhU65B1JaT-SNJ07CzAER4/s320/UWM+student+union.PNG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#073763">Unattractive in its own monolithic way, the<br />UWM Student Union was a massive complex of<br />Dining Hall, various restaurants and fast food joints,<br />a night club and bar, a Gasthaus, a huge Rec Center<br />(Milwaukee, so bowling alley), an Outing Center, <br />an Arts and Crafts Center, a movie theater, a gigantic bookstore, <br />and countless (because I never counted them) meeting, conference,<br />and special event rooms. </font><br /><br />I worked at the Student Union, as Security, for three years. There are stories to tell. Most of them I won't tell.<br /><br /><i><span style="color: #073763;"><b>Okay, one story: The Great Potato Mystery</b></span><br />I was working late one night with my partner, Electric Bob (six panes of LSD, a severe cold, an entire package of sinus capsules and a couple of Black Russians were involved in the creation of his nickname). Around 2:00 am, we were bored. As we went through the cafeteria kitchen we noticed someone had burned an entire standing rack of baked potatoes and had left them there.. Bob and I took the rack on the service elevator to the roof (five stories up). It was winter and had been snowing heavily and the whole vista was white. We began to lob blackened potatoes at whatever targets we could agree on. Sort of potato skeet shooting in reverse? Only a few at first, we said. Soon the entire rack was gone. We didn't harm anything, but that was more bad aim than anything else. The potatoes simply sank down into the heavy snow and disappeared.<br /><br />It snowed often that winter; deep, thick, wet layers of snow. No one noticed the missing burned potatoes or said anything if they did, and we continued an abnormally frigid winter. <br /><br />Finally, there came a thaw, and people began to notice a strange smell in the air. People walking by would slow, sniff, look around, then wrinkle their noses. shrug, and walk on. As the snow melted, small wizened lumps of frozen potatoes began to appear. Heads were scratched, and suspicions were held, but no culprits were ever identified.<br /><br /><b><span style="color: #073763;">And another: Begin the LeGuin...</span></b><br />I met one of my idols in the Union Restaurant/Nightclub. After a sci-fi conference, I came across a table of three folks energetically talking. I did a double-take: one of them was the writer, Ursula K. LeGuin. I impulsively asked for her autograph in The Left Hand of Darkness, which I serendipitously had in my back pocket. She did so; I expressed my admiration for her and she commented that it appeared a well-read copy, tattered and worn as it was. I apologized and said it was my second copy. She beamed in pleasure and invited me to join in the discussion, The other two at the table were Phillip Jose Farmer (Riverworld) and Gordon Dickson (Soldier Ask Not). I wisely kept my mouth shut while the three discussed potential themes and stories and entire universes they had built in their minds. Their minds were bright, their imaginings incandescent and I was fortunate (I found later) in hearing some of the ideas of that night in books not yet written.<span style="color: #073763; font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Just hangin' out with Willem Dafoe...</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP7rAvap8Tmp5JKnRwj_Hmr88ilV9svUvbwfqMAdc9Eq4VDIbigeSwpjcpxxB6I1RN-Za24qGYAemDNMD9rh11miKl8ZgyRgwcA44whyX6M5bvxlxDDpYQb-aiBZaxyCkSaH30tnvuhi8/s640/willem+dafoe.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="614" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP7rAvap8Tmp5JKnRwj_Hmr88ilV9svUvbwfqMAdc9Eq4VDIbigeSwpjcpxxB6I1RN-Za24qGYAemDNMD9rh11miKl8ZgyRgwcA44whyX6M5bvxlxDDpYQb-aiBZaxyCkSaH30tnvuhi8/s320/willem+dafoe.jpg" /></a></div>Deborah Goldberg, Pinterest<br /><br />A co-worker who was in the UWM Theatre program kept talking about this guy working on an artsy play. My friend couldn't stop talking about him, really. So he introduced me. The play was A Hunger Artist by Franz Kafka and the young actor was Willem Dafoe. (A Hunger Artist in Medieval times was a performer who starved himself, in a cage, for the entertainment of his audiences.) We got along and his charismatic style and sheer intensity appealed to me, so we hung out a bit. He played the role in a Christlike ascetic way, purposely losing weight to appear gaunt and ravaged. Though young, he was already evincing that startling talent of shape-shifting himself into his characters. He had the piercing eyes of a hawk. always watching, observing, collecting. Totally focused, passionate, and obviously bound for a great career, he was also impatient, so he jumped to experimental theatre, then to New York. By 1980 he was in the movies and the amazing range of his talents has been on full display since.<br /><br /><font color="#073763"><b>Okay, one more and that's it.</b></font><br />Electric Bob and I became legends at UWM. The Rec Center had a long bank of pinball machines. This was the time of Pinball Wizard, before Pong (lame) and PacMan (slightly less lame) debuted. Pinball was serious stuff. Bob and I were good at it. The number one game for years was Captain Card; it was the most challenging and hardest to maintain consistency. Captain Card was what all the players went for. To be in the Top Ten on Captain Card was prestige; hundreds of people would check the rankings every day.<br /><br />Bob and I took up the challenge...and we had the keys to every door in the Union, so we had <br />the machine to ourselves after closing time. Within a month we held the Team High Score...<br />and we kept that position for almost three years! We wore out the first Captain Card <br />machine. Then the competition went full frenzy and we wore out the second. <br />But we remained the Pinball Wizards. No one could catch us.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48Fzf17iXQo-51ouoQcMA9OvHWWctieezHp4uRg3HRyoFTQYyTyC04AWNYH_SWi2wQJR_xpYSHJWiqd3xAil3SWGntmmmkIj2Z5PcDwMfXRYw27RQ0l_-pWTYVZrtE81yEFkE-5ud3e4/s2048/captain+card.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1526" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48Fzf17iXQo-51ouoQcMA9OvHWWctieezHp4uRg3HRyoFTQYyTyC04AWNYH_SWi2wQJR_xpYSHJWiqd3xAil3SWGntmmmkIj2Z5PcDwMfXRYw27RQ0l_-pWTYVZrtE81yEFkE-5ud3e4/s640/captain+card.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">He stands like a statue</span><br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">Becomes part of the machine</span><br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">Feeling all the bumpers</span><br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">Always playing clean</span><br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">He plays by intuition</span><br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">The digit counters fall</span><br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">That deaf, dumb and blind kid</span><br style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">Sure plays a mean pinball</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); caret-color: rgb(59, 63, 68); color: #3b3f44; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;"><i>Pinball Wizard, The Who</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sadly, even though Bob straightened out and stopped doing drugs, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">he had a heart attack before graduation and passed away.<br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I managed to learn a few things in class as well. And thanks to Project HIT, by the time I got to the student teaching requirement, I was already an experienced teacher, so it was a breeze.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><font color="#073763" size="5">From University to High School Teacher</font></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Eventually, all good things must end and transmute to something else. But remember Stoppard! Every exit was an entry somewhere else. I was fortunate enough to have a good advisor who directed me during the job application process. That was important, since at that moment jobs were scarce and teachers were overly plentiful. To my surprise and delight, I immediately got two offers. One was for a school in a small town a few miles north of Green Bay. The other was Whitefish Bay High School, not far from UWM. The Bay was then, and still is, one of the finest public high schools in the country, and I was asked to join the English Department. I eagerly accepted. Didn't even have my degree officially, and I was already employed. Another door, another exit, another entrance.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirhnKnbK6CRtPaFp_Wg7LVGa00PVGvrJwbchk-1BhXub9gbabTgTtmvtAf-E-bIKMMy89x5V0_O-s0YUjehsyEVs798n_UI_tKkc7vFmmOtk-KJx6eq-pm6F1_vUeS0UqCPotlYVkT_jk/s659/WBHS.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="407" data-original-width="659" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirhnKnbK6CRtPaFp_Wg7LVGa00PVGvrJwbchk-1BhXub9gbabTgTtmvtAf-E-bIKMMy89x5V0_O-s0YUjehsyEVs798n_UI_tKkc7vFmmOtk-KJx6eq-pm6F1_vUeS0UqCPotlYVkT_jk/w500-h310/WBHS.JPG" width="500" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><font color="#073763">Whitefish Bay High School<br />Whitefish Bay Wisconsin</font></b></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br />I did not quite believe it. It took a while before I did. I was a teacher at one of the most prestigious public high schools in the country.</span></div>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-67835556995646325492021-02-01T08:59:00.000-08:002021-02-01T08:59:30.593-08:00Growing Up With Alcoholism/A Career in Alcohol. What's up with that?I am self-tagged as ACoA. That's an Adult Child of Alcoholics. a recognized condition for children who grew up under one or more parents who were alcoholics. So how does a kid grow up in the chaos of alcoholism and then enjoy a successful career in wine and spirits? Well, since you asked...<br /><br />My father was an alcoholic. That was not unusual either in my family or in our stratum of society at the time. When you live on the edge of poverty, with little to no hope of improving your situation, it's not uncommon to find escape in alcohol, and that's what my father did. We---the family---were trying to escape from<i> his</i> demons. To us, those demons manifested in him as alienation, negligence, abuse, anger, and violence.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05j16G_FPKAkRd1Xc79AvDmC4z32_l-NL70cwtWcFkrswqB0BuocSXRKbof9n54Aucv8jYFCtPgWedPPSObUIx9ghBux-bqiwGmcBJHvnGqnVLcPd-XrtG3_t3qqHfswnrGIukbxy_DM/s1538/Father+Tommy+r+Me+l.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1538" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05j16G_FPKAkRd1Xc79AvDmC4z32_l-NL70cwtWcFkrswqB0BuocSXRKbof9n54Aucv8jYFCtPgWedPPSObUIx9ghBux-bqiwGmcBJHvnGqnVLcPd-XrtG3_t3qqHfswnrGIukbxy_DM/w500-h345/Father+Tommy+r+Me+l.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">Drink up, baby, stay up all night</span></span></div><span style="color: #a64d79;"><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">With the things you could do, you won't but you might</div></span><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">The potential you'll be that you'll never see</div></span><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">The promises you'll only make</div></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>My father, a tall, handsome man who was painfully shy and introverted, could be charming in public, but more often was depressed, withdrawn and monosyllabic around us. His regular routine was doing little more than eating and sleeping at home and going to work. He didn't seem capable of being a father in any meaningful sense, and we communicated very little. We seldom touched, and only when I initiated it. My older brother had already given up trying; I did as well not long after.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Drink up with me now and forget all about</span></span></div><span style="color: #741b47;"><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">The pressure of days, do what I say</div></span><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">And I'll make you okay and drive them away</div></span><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">The images stuck in your head</div></span></span><br />As a toddler I doted on my father. The affection was not reciprocated. Little observer that I was, I couldn't help but register his disinterest in both my brother and me. Most of the time he simply didn't notice us, and when he did there was little to no actual interest in either of us. We stopped looking to him for praise or guidance because we knew it would not be forthcoming. When he was home, he was simply there, as opposed to anywhere else, and he didn't seem to care much. Then we would begin to catch the little signs. The spurts of irritation at petty things. Sudden impatience. Muffled curses. Frustration. Restlessness.</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">People you've been before that you</span></span></div><span style="color: #a64d79;"><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">Don't want around anymore</div></span><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">That push and shove and won't bend to your will</div></span><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">I'll keep them still</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></span></div><div>Suddenly, he would become belligerent and abusive---especially to my mother but to my brother and me as well. Then he would begin to drink, not with joy or pleasure but in a stolid, determined way, either cheap Bourbon or cheaper Canadian, straight, rarely mixed. The whiskey itself did not seem to give him any pleasure, it was there to put him in a drunken daze. His words would slur, the anger would build. Soon he would storm out and disappear, without a word, for a day, a week, one time almost a month. He would go to honky-tonks, drinking and partying, having a good time with everyone until he ran out of money and collapsed. </div><div><br /></div><div>Eventually, someone would drag him home, dirty, rank with stale beer, cheap perfume and the sickly-sweet odor of whiskey sweat oozing out his pores. Nothing would be said. He'd eat Campbell's condensed tomato soup and oyster crackers and drink coffee with a prodigious amount of milk and sugar, slurping it out of a saucer when it was hot. He would hunker down low, elbows on the table, bruised bloodshot eyes strategically focused on nothing, then collapse on the couch. Next day, he would get up, not say a word, and go off to work.</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">Drink up, baby, look at the stars</span></span></div><span style="color: #a64d79;"><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">I'll kiss you again, between the bars</div></span><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">Where I'm seeing you there, with your hands in the air</div></span><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">Waiting to finally be caught</div></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>The worst time for us was when he didn't leave or didn't have the money to entertain his drinking buddies. Then he would stay home, drink with steady resolve, and erupt in bursts of jagged rage alternating with crying, sobbing, blubbering bouts of self-pity. During the worst times he frequently hit and shoved my mother, but seldom hit either of us boys.</div><div><div><br /></div><div>He paid so little attention to us sober and was so unstable when drunk we tried to avoid him. I came to realize that we were a burden to him. I knew that he relished the overseas assignments, even in the hellhole places, because he didn’t have to pretend. For a year he was alone. We were responsible for ourselves.</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">Drink up one more time and I'll make you mine</span></span></div><span style="color: #a64d79;"><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">Keep you apart, deep in my heart</div></span><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">Separate from the rest, where I like you the best</div></span><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">And keep the things you forgot</div></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>When he was drinking, I was terrified by his behavior and tried to make myself as small as possible, hoping he would not notice me. My brother was the protective one, the first child, the one who desperately wanted to defend our mother from harm and abuse. I quickly learned the advantages of passive-aggressive behavior, to see without being seen, and to avoid his anger, by being but not being there</div><blockquote><blockquote style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">If I made myself quiet enough,</span></i></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote><blockquote style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">still enough and small enough </span></i></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote><blockquote style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">no one would notice me.</span></i></blockquote></blockquote></div><div>Those are common defense-responses for ACoA. Stay aloof; show as little emotion as possible, maintain careful distances, avoid attracting notice from authority figures because they have control over you. Avoid standing out from your group, avoid being 'different'. Don't make eye contact. You do this to survive, because if you can survive you can correct your problems later, build new mechanisms, construct different realities.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR6o4PEqpLztwC9NcuLW4vs1uRF9uxll76aW7qSDmdpsvdjIykkB7M_jpMhmNSSDwcDQRGTgKKYiVEvaGc25-QAw80v0DMIK3mCRNtQg0MS3IX8Ku8b7dcaeZSAbuU4Zv-Jw4TCB8c9Ww/s1500/ACOA+issues.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1500" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR6o4PEqpLztwC9NcuLW4vs1uRF9uxll76aW7qSDmdpsvdjIykkB7M_jpMhmNSSDwcDQRGTgKKYiVEvaGc25-QAw80v0DMIK3mCRNtQg0MS3IX8Ku8b7dcaeZSAbuU4Zv-Jw4TCB8c9Ww/w400-h266/ACOA+issues.PNG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some more; some less.<br />You learn to recognize, identify, and adjust<br />your attitude and behavior.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>One particularly bad night my father was verbally abusive and slapping our mother in their bedroom. We heard him slur something---we could not quite make it out---then a muted thud and a full moan from my mother. My brother, shivering in barely restrained fury, quietly got out of bed and retrieved his shotgun from the closet, loaded it, and went into the hallway. The house became silent, so he crouched there for the longest time as I watched him, preternaturally still and waiting. He had decided: if my father resumed abusing my mother, he would kill him.<br /><br />My father had passed out. It remained quiet, with just the sounds of his drunken snores disturbing the night. My brother sat there, barely moving, shotgun at the ready, until dawn, then wearily got up and went back to bed. He put away the shotgun. But he never unloaded it.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>The tension in our house was measured in days or weeks leading up to another explosion of booze and rage. It became clear that, whatever his problems were, they required relief, like the lancing of a boil to let the pus out, or a steam valve to relieve the pressure and allow him to continue to function.<br /><br />All of which meant little to a young and confused boy trying to deal with his life.<br /><br />But life goes on. Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on. We endured. We survived.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div><span face="" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">People you've been before that you</span></span></div><span style="color: #a64d79; text-align: left;"><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">Don't want around anymore</div></span><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">That push and shove and won't bend to your will</div></span><span face="" jsname="YS01Ge" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">I'll keep them still</div><div style="text-align: center;">~Elliot Smith~</div></span></span></div><br /></div><div>More than once the Army would punish my father by demoting him and docking his pay, which seemed bizarre to us, since we would suffer from the further diminution of our already inadequate income...after he had frivoled away most of that with his alcoholic binges.</div><div><br /></div><div>Beyond the company punishment, the Army did little to nothing to deal with his drunken escapades. If the Army pretended not to know; they didn't have to do anything about it. He followed the same pattern, with occasional binges, invariably losing a stripe in demotion, then gaining it back. My mother was adept at ticking off the stitches on his stripes, subtracting then adding one or more every cycle.</div><div><br /></div><div>We also became adept at living with less, or sometimes nothing at all. My mother was too fiercely proud to ask for charity, and only reluctantly would she accept it. We had relatives and friends and well-meaning people around us. We would get vegetables they ‘had too much of’ or were asked if we wanted to dig potatoes or help with grubbing peanuts. We heard ‘Honey, we made too much, and don’t want it to go to waste.’ So we skimped as best we could, made do with what we had, and went without when we had to. But we never went on welfare. Poverty and basic subsistence were all too common then and there. My mother was a farming girl who survived the Great Depression and World War II. She said Welfare was for people who needed it, and we'd get by.<br /><br />Years later I read John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath, then saw the fine movie. I immediately recognized my mother in Ma Joad, the matriarch. Not that my mother was saintly; she was hardly that. But she had that implacable will to survive. Tragedy, loss, disappointment, heartbreak did not matter. She endured. And she did it while maintaining a sense of her own dignity,</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_niIo8pzr1zMt_hzeLa0B_s4WCQIgVI9-KYvUKQau5UM5Go5-SL4_FlKG6-V2v7LpUQ3T_XTLk6Vmvxj5OHHHRhqf5dCIMJUYd6ypcvnjIs58UCpLqaQ-4OSxE7BBWHcSUFOmGJOYys/s1240/1B6796139-tdy_dotson_mona_130118.fit-1240w.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="930" data-original-width="1240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_niIo8pzr1zMt_hzeLa0B_s4WCQIgVI9-KYvUKQau5UM5Go5-SL4_FlKG6-V2v7LpUQ3T_XTLk6Vmvxj5OHHHRhqf5dCIMJUYd6ypcvnjIs58UCpLqaQ-4OSxE7BBWHcSUFOmGJOYys/s320/1B6796139-tdy_dotson_mona_130118.fit-1240w.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b>Migrant Mother by Dorothea Lange</b><br />Florence Thompson, who came to be known as The<br />Mona Lisa of the Dust Bowl from Lange's superbly<br />evocative photo, had five children and was pregnant<br />when her husband died. She worked in the fields from<br />before dawn to after dark picking cotton.</span><br /><a href="https://www.today.com/popculture/mona-lisa-dust-bowl-never-lost-hope-1C8776145">Her story here.</a><br /><br /><span style="color: #660000;">Whenever I saw this iconic photo, I thought of my mother.<br />I saw the tired eyes, the timeworn face of a 27-year-old<br />mother, and the resolve to survive.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>The abuse remained but was never spoken of. It was a fact of our lives, and we lived with it. The true tragedy was yet to come. </div><div><br /></div><div>My mother, who had been stalwart, who had defended us and protected us, secretly began to drink too. Eventually, she succumbed to diseases related to alcoholism as her body deteriorated. My father began to slow down, lessen his rages, and extend the gaps between his bouts of drunken blindness. </div><div><br /></div><div>My brother and I left as soon as we could. We rarely returned, intent on forging our own lives. She would not, or could not, leave; she tried once and we helped her, but she was back within a month. No explanations were ever voiced. Every relationship has its own unique dynamic, and every couple agrees to that dynamic.<br /><br />My older brother went on to a distinguished career and became a corporate executive, showered with honors, married to one woman for more than fifty years. He overcame his lack of a good education, got a couple of degrees by sheer determination, all with his own money and while working massive amounts of overtime, and never once succumbed to excess drinking. The price he paid was an implacable steely resolve, a devotion to duty, a rigid standard for achievement in all things that often made it difficult for him to show his feelings. He has lived his life in tooth-grinding anger, but never once has he released that anger in violence. He is a good man.</div><div><br /></div><div>My much younger brother spent 30 years in the Navy, achieving E-9, Chief of Boats, the pinnacle position in that branch. He never evinced a problem with alcohol either; he is a straight-up nice guy, devoted husband, and great Dad.<br /><br />I had my own successes, some failures, and found my own way. Oddly enough, that way led me to a career of working in wines and spirits for almost forty years now.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</b></div><i>I never came to terms with my father. We never spoke of it. After my mother died we had little reason to communicate. He would call, sporadically, always in the small hours, always drunk, always pitying himself. Once, he called at 2:00am to scold me and give me drunken advice in a barely comprehensible slur. I had had enough. I told him if he couldn't call me sober, not to call me at all. We never spoke to each other again.</i><br /><b style="text-align: center;"> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</b></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div>How is it that the son of an abusive alcoholic could become deeply involved in a lifetime of promoting and selling booze? That wasn't difficult at all, really. I didn't put the blame on alcohol. I put it on my father. Alcohol was nothing more than a convenient poison for him Which does not mean I lack empathy for those afflicted by alcoholism, or those suffering from being ACoA. Quite the opposite. ‘Substance abuse’ is not about the substance; it’s about the person who abuses himself. The substance is only a choice of method.<br /><b style="text-align: center;"> </b><br /></div><div>I became a teacher, high school and college. I like to think I was good at it. The reason I became a teacher was my unquenchable thirst to KNOW things, to understand, to dig beneath the surface, to look inside and underneath. To be a good teacher, one must be a seeker of knowledge. I enjoyed the seeking and the sharing.<br /><br />As I became interested in wines and spirits, that search to know, to understand, seized me. There I had an infinite and highly complex subject, of which little was actually known, and that by relatively few at the time.<br /><br />In addition, I really <i>liked</i> beverage alcohol. I was intrigued by the entire alchemical history of fermentation and distillation, the physical processes and philosophies for transmutation, of searching for the essence, the purity, the heart. The stories, the histories of how it developed, the way it reflected different societies and cultures: those were endlessly fascinating to me. </div><div><br /></div><div>Finally, wine and spirits included the exploration of the senses, of how and why things taste. Knowing wines and spirits was to study history, science, geology, topography, biology, the digestive systems, enzymes, chemistry, soils, climate patterns, culture, human psychology and behavior, and language There was never enough learning; because there was always more to learn. <br /><br />"Still," people said. "Why alcohol beverages of all things.?" </div><div><br /></div><div>Easy answer? I never confused the substance with the person abusing it. I have never had a problem with alcohol, just the immoderate use of it by others. The problem with my father, and mother as well, was not the alcohol. That was simply the chosen medium they used to run away from their demons. Or perhaps to embrace them. Had it not been alcohol, it would have manifested in other ways. The problem was not in the alcohol, it was within the person.<br /><br />I enjoyed the intoxicating effects, but only to a certain point. The one caveat for me was that the alcohol had to be controlled...or, rather, I had to be in control of the alcohol. I could not use it as a crutch, an excuse, or an escape, I was vastly more interested in the aromas and tastes of wine, spirits, and beers than I was in getting drunk. When I went to Germany I was offered a sip of vermouth. That one sip, my first, was a revelation. I was 13. Two nights later I had a small glass of cognac; nothing fancy, just the well stuff. It was amazing I had never imagined such complexities of lifted aromatics and intense flavors could be contained in a liquid and released in such a vivid way.<br /><br />I survived. I endured. I kept control of my own demons. They existed but I would rarely let them out because they frightened me. I was moderate in my habits because the idea of being controlled by outside influences was repellent to me. I had to control it, lest it controlled me.<br /><br />I hear people casually say "I really need a drink!" and I cringe a little inside. If I 'need' a drink, I will never take that drink. I may<i> want</i> a drink; that's fine. But if I ever reach the state of needing one, that's the day I stop drinking. Truth told, I actually drink very little, That may seem odd since I'm "in the business" of alcohol, but it's not. I taste. I analyze. I assess. Yet I consume very little, and that almost always in the company of others and with food. A glass or two of wine, an interesting cocktail, good conversation---all well and good. But beyond a certain point, the alcohol ceases to be a pleasant social lubricant and becomes an unpleasant experience.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763; font-weight: 700;"><br /></span></div><b><div style="text-align: center;"><b><font color="#073763">CODA</font></b></div></b>Many years later, when I had some much needed objective distance to see things more clearly, I heard the willowy chanteuse Madeline Peyroux sing a song that stripped me bare, a masterpiece written by Elliot Smith, a man who knew about tragedy intimately. It was "Between the Bars"---and you can take those bars as metaphors or poignant realities, whichever you wish. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/FktNzLg_te4">Between the Bars by Madeleine Peyroux</a><br />Songwriter Elliot Smith </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33fVtE851QWUa-EYoPOiwe8TbViahC9aMmmA2vUSbOqcZsNdVjSOKQMF4XZ2irNG0wL_GH6IX2NretuSRAlb6nXqc5sS3Vd34T4VHRL3xa5jVx0rWvKdEFsAc_-i2rPFhcx69Wsoh1z8/s220/MP.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="220" data-original-width="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33fVtE851QWUa-EYoPOiwe8TbViahC9aMmmA2vUSbOqcZsNdVjSOKQMF4XZ2irNG0wL_GH6IX2NretuSRAlb6nXqc5sS3Vd34T4VHRL3xa5jVx0rWvKdEFsAc_-i2rPFhcx69Wsoh1z8/s0/MP.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Careless Love (2004)</b><br />It's rare to have an album<br />arrive from an unknown performer<br />in a state of perfection with<br />every song a gem.<br />Before the album Peyroux was busking<br />in Paris, paying her dues on the street, <br />learning about heartbreak. With her sad eyes and<br />plaintive voice she could bare her soul.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </div></div></div>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-11901070051308698042020-11-05T11:09:00.000-08:002020-11-05T11:09:25.585-08:00My Own Personal Cocktail Hall of Fame: David Shenaut's Raven & Rose Irish Coffee<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEexBhASpVfZSAwBvH6xMllgwQZ7AFsE-lM_qfZdXw26JUJMj92ulE7rLm_TFMzNZX7ylzhQLOxaOGD2ZDZ7MN90WmGCxcSsXyTz1-ItgzKdk3Cfv21YPKuwWbGBrQ4iNldQvzePkNO8Y/s800/RandR+Shenaut+Irish+Coffee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEexBhASpVfZSAwBvH6xMllgwQZ7AFsE-lM_qfZdXw26JUJMj92ulE7rLm_TFMzNZX7ylzhQLOxaOGD2ZDZ7MN90WmGCxcSsXyTz1-ItgzKdk3Cfv21YPKuwWbGBrQ4iNldQvzePkNO8Y/w640-h400/RandR+Shenaut+Irish+Coffee.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #783f04;"><b>David Shenaut's Irish Coffee</b><br />Slightly slurped already (Hey, I couldn't wait!),<br />but otherwise perfect. Note the clear delineation between<br />the black coffee and the cream.<br />The way it 'spozed to be.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p><i>Apologia: Look, I hesitated to write this one. I already listed Shenaut's Sims Old Fashioned in my Hall of Fame (and it deserved it), so it's not like I was slighting him by leaving this one off the list. But try as I might, I could not deny the superior execution of this, one of my favorite hot drinks ever.<br /><br />So at the risk of choruses of "Not Shenaut again" and "Yeah, like he needs more attention", and even at the risk of inflating Dave's already huge ego, I had to give him his due.<br /><br />I have a personal history with Irish Coffee. It began in 1971, in Dublin, on O'Connell street. Having strolled through St. Stephen's Green Park and Trinity University, I stopped and had the best Irish Coffee I ever had. (And, yes, I've been to Buena Vista and they make a good one, but not the best.). After that, the one I made was 2nd Best. But after Shenaut's version, I had to bump mine down a notch and replace it with his.<br /><br />Here's what I wrote about Shenaut's Irish Coffee at Raven & Rose the first time I had it:</i></p><p id="E92" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E92" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10pt;"><span id="E93" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E93" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’</span><span id="E94" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E94" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">ll be the first</span><span id="E95" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E95" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to admit I can be kind of annoying when it comes to Irish Coffee. </span><span id="E96" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E96" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The words “picky” and “persnickety” have been uttered when I go on about the quality of Irish Coffee. </span><span id="E97" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E97" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So when I find one that is not only good, but better than the one I make…well, then, I have to shout about it. So here’s a shout to David Shenaut at Raven & Rose restaurant in Portland, OR.</span></p><p id="E98" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E98" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10pt;"><span id="E99" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E99" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A properly made Irish Coffee is a truly wondrous drink; it’s one of those rare occurrences of perfection we so seldom get to enjoy in this world, when the proper ingredients come together in just the right way to create a magnificent something that wasn’t there before and won’t last long. It’s in the same league as love at first sight, your first taste of ice cream, or the first time you visit Paris.</span></p><p id="E100" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E100" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10pt;"><span id="E101" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E101" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">On the other hand, a poorly made Irish Coffee</span><span id="E102" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E102" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> is a tragedy; and a tragedy that could have been avoided so easily. Like all great classic drinks, it’s easy to make, but even easier to make badly.</span></p><p id="E103" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E103" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10pt;"><span id="E104" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E104" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The key</span><span id="E105" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E105" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">s</span><span id="E106" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E106" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to good Irish </span><span id="E107" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E107" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Coffee</span><span id="E108" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E108" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> are</span><span id="E109" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E109" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> simple: </span></p><p class="qowt-li-0_0 qowt-list qowt-stl-ListParagraph" id="E110" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E110" qowt-entry="1" qowt-list-type="b" qowt-lvl="0" qowt-template="0" style="background-color: white; counter-increment: lc-1-0 1; counter-reset: lc-1-1 0 lc-1-2 0 lc-1-3 0 lc-1-4 0 lc-1-5 0 lc-1-6 0 lc-1-7 0 lc-1-8 0; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 36pt; padding: 0px 0px 10pt; position: relative;"><span id="E111" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E111" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>F</b></span><span id="E112" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E112" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>irst, use quality ingredients</b>. No cheap bargain Irish Whiskey please. It’s not like Irish is all that expensive anyway, so you might as well use a good one. Use cheap, you get cheap. </span></p><p class="qowt-li-0_0 qowt-list qowt-stl-ListParagraph" id="E113" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E113" qowt-entry="1" qowt-list-type="b" qowt-lvl="0" qowt-template="0" style="background-color: white; counter-increment: lc-1-0 1; counter-reset: lc-1-1 0 lc-1-2 0 lc-1-3 0 lc-1-4 0 lc-1-5 0 lc-1-6 0 lc-1-7 0 lc-1-8 0; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 36pt; padding: 0px 0px 10pt; position: relative;"><span id="E114" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E114" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Second, use good, strong, serious coffee</b>. Please. This is the best time in the world for coffee aficionados, so if you’re going to make a good Irish Coffee, use the best coffee. </span></p><p class="qowt-li-0_0 qowt-list qowt-stl-ListParagraph" id="E115" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E115" qowt-entry="1" qowt-list-type="b" qowt-lvl="0" qowt-template="0" style="background-color: white; counter-increment: lc-1-0 1; counter-reset: lc-1-1 0 lc-1-2 0 lc-1-3 0 lc-1-4 0 lc-1-5 0 lc-1-6 0 lc-1-7 0 lc-1-8 0; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 36pt; padding: 0px 0px 10pt; position: relative;"><span id="E116" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E116" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Use the right cream. </b>Don’t serve me a drink with a spray can topping; that is an abomination. Use heavy cream---and no need to go flavoring it up </span><span id="E117" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E117" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">with </span><span id="E118" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E118" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">vanilla or such; likewise don’t add any sugaring to stiff it and whip it. Use heavy cream. An Irish Coffee is not the occasion to develop diet sensibility; use poor cream and you’re better off not drinking the whole thing in the first place. </span></p><p class="qowt-li-0_0 qowt-list qowt-stl-ListParagraph" id="E119" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E119" qowt-entry="1" qowt-list-type="b" qowt-lvl="0" qowt-template="0" style="background-color: white; counter-increment: lc-1-0 1; counter-reset: lc-1-1 0 lc-1-2 0 lc-1-3 0 lc-1-4 0 lc-1-5 0 lc-1-6 0 lc-1-7 0 lc-1-8 0; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 36pt; padding: 0px 0px 10pt; position: relative;"><span id="E120" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E120" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Finally, do not use basic granulated and processed (i.e., bleached) table sugar</b>. Use a good quality brown sugar, rich and nutty.</span></p><p id="E121" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E121" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10pt;"><span id="E122" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E122" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Shenaut, who freely admits he made a lot of second-rate Irish Coffees in his early days, before he made his confession to Dale DeGroff (the Cocktail King), received absolution and went forth to sin no more, now makes his Irish Coffees with the same devotion to craft he applies to his other cocktail creations. </span><span id="E123" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E123" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Good ingredients, properly precise proportions, and quick execution (a good Irish Coffee has to be fresh and hot!)</span></p><p id="E124" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E124" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10pt;"><span id="E125" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E125" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Shenaut also adds a brilliant touch of his own; this is not surprising for a drinkslinger who is always looking to up his game, and usually succeeds. In a move to shock some purists (tradition is good, but sometimes improvements make even the traditional better), Shenaut uses not regular black coffee, or even double-strength coffee to heighten the contrast of the drink: he uses an espresso pull of Spella Italian Roast coffee. This single change makes for a dramatic and intensely flavored Irish Coffee, with </span><span id="E127" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E127" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">a richness</span><span id="E129" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E129" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, a boldness, unlike any other you’ve ever had, and adds a dimensio</span><span id="E130" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E130" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">n of chocolatey flavor,</span><span id="E131" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E131" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> a smoky mocha-like character</span><span id="E132" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E132" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, but more cocoa dust than choco syrup,</span><span id="E133" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E133" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to an already intriguing drink.</span></p><p id="E134" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E134" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10pt;"><span id="E135" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E135" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So: Brown sugar, good Irish Whiskey [<i>What you use depends on the Irish style you like, but I actually prefer a Pot Still</i></span><span id="E137" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E137" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i> type with the green herbal characteristics; I love Powers but it has gotten expensive now. Your mileage may vary;. Some prefer the malt whisky profile of a Bushmills</i>], the espresso coffee (or an Americano would do), and top with a float of heavy cream.</span></p><p id="E138" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E138" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10pt;"><span id="E139" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E139" style="display: inline; font-weight: bold; white-space: pre-wrap;">That float is important! </span><span id="E-24" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E-24" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Do NOT simply mix in the cream; you’re not making a latte, for goodness sake. It is of crucial importance to float the heavy cream on top of the coffee, so that when you sip you first get the cool, rich, viscous pure cream before suddenly receiving the bracing jolt of hot dark coffee and Irish whiskey, made gentle by the buttery, toffee-like brown sugar. Here, it’s not only the ingredients that are important, but the sequence in which you taste them.</span></p><p id="E140" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E140" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10pt;"><span id="E141" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E141" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(My practice with the cream was to use the bowl of an inverted spoon, almost touching the surface of the drink, to allow me to gently slide the heavy cream on to the top without disturbing or mixing the two elements. However you do it, make sure the cream is floating, not mixed. This is crucial.)</span></p><p id="E142" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E142" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10pt;"><span id="E143" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E143" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Shenaut also adds a lovely touch by gently adding three glistening oily black coffee beans on top</span><span id="E144" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E144" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> of the cream by way of garnish, making for a pretty presentation. And a satisfying crunch if you are so inclined, as I am.</span></p><p id="E142" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E142" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN77nUi_H6MfgXGY1V4oLBWNYy52xQ3WtnjmPjKLXzpeVo0YxA6gO3BHF8eXg3aWmv1JSxoBwcmbs7tOXFv3VuypCopLWLKmYddoY9B69X6ZUFelQ3nSyad6a0t1yZQSPW8aoRzpPWBrc/s800/Raven+and+Rose+Noble+barrel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN77nUi_H6MfgXGY1V4oLBWNYy52xQ3WtnjmPjKLXzpeVo0YxA6gO3BHF8eXg3aWmv1JSxoBwcmbs7tOXFv3VuypCopLWLKmYddoY9B69X6ZUFelQ3nSyad6a0t1yZQSPW8aoRzpPWBrc/s320/Raven+and+Rose+Noble+barrel.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p id="E124" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E124" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10pt;"><span is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E133" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><p id="E145" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E145" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10pt;"><span id="E146" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E146" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s not that difficult to make your own Irish Coffee if you follow the above procedure. On the other hand, there’s some</span><span id="E147" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E147" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">thing</span><span id="E148" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E148" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> satisfying and ceremonial about having a craftsman like Shenaut construct your drink with such meticulous care. </span></p><p id="E145" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E145" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 1.38; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10pt; text-align: center;"><span is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E148" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">So there you have it. If we ever get back to anything close to what we thought was normal, the Irish Coffee at Raven & Rose could be one of the best ways to celebrate.</span></div><p></p><div><span is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E157" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E133" style="display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-53591668115346188702020-11-02T12:01:00.000-08:002024-03-02T09:48:44.554-08:00The Places I've Been, The People I've Met: Don Jose Ignacio Domecq: Part II /Jerez<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Ie2k6RmSj-dpLZPRTwR7UvjpBF18Y7mdACI5EVjkcoZ2iCb_lyQdu5MY73rGKMwyGlMlfOTwTePL9Kahg_hMt26_Ff_uNw2iRb3V5BNVjb4lQr5G1jVO-wIdtkUa2reTrLuXWlcr1xk/s1024/1024px-Palace_Hotel_%2528Westin%2529_and_Fuente_de_Neptuno_%25286394590159%2529+Roy+Luck+WC.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="649" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Ie2k6RmSj-dpLZPRTwR7UvjpBF18Y7mdACI5EVjkcoZ2iCb_lyQdu5MY73rGKMwyGlMlfOTwTePL9Kahg_hMt26_Ff_uNw2iRb3V5BNVjb4lQr5G1jVO-wIdtkUa2reTrLuXWlcr1xk/s640/1024px-Palace_Hotel_%2528Westin%2529_and_Fuente_de_Neptuno_%25286394590159%2529+Roy+Luck+WC.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">Westin Palace Hotel and Fuente del Nettuno on the Paseo del Prada<br />One of the most beautiful hotels in the world.<br /><span style="font-size: small;">(Roy Luck, Wiki Commons)<br /><br /></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table>After Rioja we spent a day in Madrid, staying at the Palace Hotel, taking in a polo match at the Puerto del Hierro, the poshest country club in the city, and then dining in a Basque restaurant. That was a bit eerie. We had gotten used to the Spanish penchant for dining very late but when we arrived, there was not a customer in the place. Jose Jr. explained that Spain was playing in the World Cup in South America at the time, and as soon as the game was over the place would be jammed. A few minutes later, the doors opened and people flooded in to fill every seat.<div><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrqzK7QQ-3W9MILHQZWls7CWHn3pxgyoXTyNSINaBXDAVFa_kYfbB921VW3n9Eu3YdHHxf65S_17ZRdIMlsWfMGvqQXXcSFHiBAG6KufyGR8TfzI42LetT4oWFh-_x12aM6nvFHOol2wU/s778/20161123-180dff73e9cc82068ca86_resized_773x778-4.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="778" data-original-width="773" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrqzK7QQ-3W9MILHQZWls7CWHn3pxgyoXTyNSINaBXDAVFa_kYfbB921VW3n9Eu3YdHHxf65S_17ZRdIMlsWfMGvqQXXcSFHiBAG6KufyGR8TfzI42LetT4oWFh-_x12aM6nvFHOol2wU/w408-h410/20161123-180dff73e9cc82068ca86_resized_773x778-4.jpg" width="408" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Domecq Museum Archives<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>The next morning we flew down to Jerez and Don Jose rejoined us at the bodega in a most unexpected way. He was 74 at the time, as I recall, and he came putt-putting up on a red Moto Guzzi. </div><div><br /></div><div>As the story goes, Don Jose had a chauffeur his entire adult life. The chauffeur, who had become his friend and companion, died. The family began to arrange for another chauffeur, but Don Jose refused. The next day he showed up for work on the Moto Guzzi, dressed impeccably, with a dog carrier secured with straps onto the back rack for his dog, another old friend. He used that scooter every day he went to the office; he was a common sight on the streets and the townspeople would wave merrily to him, and he to them.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtSHLVzzxycQ0IrCTz8l-KONOVEor-1ZpqPZpqDwkoKkschH2AyFOuA5zPQ_XXwuYt98gDhYh4Wr2i81cOWdnRxX2vwtIY4rN71b8JDLlK4WuISdwqIlYk6x4-X6LMNKDy0OPYQp7h3Lc/s750/apr-28-25-bodega+nariz.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="498" data-original-width="750" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtSHLVzzxycQ0IrCTz8l-KONOVEor-1ZpqPZpqDwkoKkschH2AyFOuA5zPQ_XXwuYt98gDhYh4Wr2i81cOWdnRxX2vwtIY4rN71b8JDLlK4WuISdwqIlYk6x4-X6LMNKDy0OPYQp7h3Lc/w410-h272/apr-28-25-bodega+nariz.jpg" width="410" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Again, he had the most regal, dignified presence about him, not in any way threatening and always serene and pleasant. Not familiar, but pleasant, with exquisite manners. He was already then a legend, the Director who had taken the Pedro Domecq brand to unheard-of heights with its sherry, brandy, and wine empire around the world.<br /><br />Don Jose was revered by all, not only as a major executive of the Domecq business but for his famous abilities at and support for polo. The family raised horses in Andalusia, so of course their horses were sought after. They also raised Spanish fighting bulls. A predecessor had renewed the art of fighting bulls on horseback and that tradition continued.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5RBRM-R-6PLna-H41gd-kPD3ILYeElinnsXxVm6I9kS8i-FL2XXCAPiIHBk1I1xx64VI3z8P9Ff_FYlCnlxGbtt8njKsslTNZ36OwI0sDVoMaF6dj4weHEGDJthv_lObPyEQW9nsr1MQ/s1200/Diario+de+Jerez+El+Nariz.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1200" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5RBRM-R-6PLna-H41gd-kPD3ILYeElinnsXxVm6I9kS8i-FL2XXCAPiIHBk1I1xx64VI3z8P9Ff_FYlCnlxGbtt8njKsslTNZ36OwI0sDVoMaF6dj4weHEGDJthv_lObPyEQW9nsr1MQ/w328-h184/Diario+de+Jerez+El+Nariz.jpg" width="328" /></a></div>Don Jose's nickname, which he was quite proud of, was El Nariz---The Nose---for not only was it a quite prominent proboscis of handsome proportions, it was also the secret of his amazing success. Since his youth, working with his father, he had labored tirelessly to train his olfactory senses, and his sense of acute smell was awe-inspiring.<br /><br />Along with a venenciador we strolled through what looked like a cathedral, with <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSU4yBN4TOgvn12fvahxtPoVcQJB6Rm57ICom_cTbfgSjNXZQNs71R3sHgMaZGMrM4IscoU1aP4U1ocuQGWq2gucqu7CCQPxzjmAnEPujPi6fpKI2vTPTFVAAUSUR_kP8Mnqc2zv6ck0I/s960/venenciadorbodega1.jpg" style="clear: right; display: block; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="652" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSU4yBN4TOgvn12fvahxtPoVcQJB6Rm57ICom_cTbfgSjNXZQNs71R3sHgMaZGMrM4IscoU1aP4U1ocuQGWq2gucqu7CCQPxzjmAnEPujPi6fpKI2vTPTFVAAUSUR_kP8Mnqc2zv6ck0I/w222-h328/venenciadorbodega1.jpg" width="222" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://jerezdecine.wordpress.com/2013/05/03/veneciadores-de-jerez/">Venenciadores del Jerez</a></td></tr></tbody></table>columns and arches and barrels galore, stopping every now and then to dip into a barrel and taste.<br /><br />Don Jose proudly showed off the different types of sherry. They were all precious to him; but perhaps, perhaps his greatest reverence was the Olorosos, those deep, dark, almost black shimmering beauties.<br /><br />It was also quite a show with the obviously well-seasoned venenciador nimbly thiefing each sherry with his long cane and silver cup, pouring into a glass with a flick of the hand. There are famous venenciadors in Jerez, some quite dramatic and daring. Ours had a bit of flair, but under the eyes of Don Jose he was more intent to pour correctly than to dazzle.<br /><br />It was a delightful interlude, but all good things....<br /><br />My gracious hosts asked if I had enjoyed my stay, and if there was anything at all that I had hoped to experience in my first trip to Spain. I said the only small regret I had was that the season was not proper so I could not see a feria of fighting bulls, but would be back to correct that on a future trip. "You are correct," they said. "No ferias are scheduled for now." Don Jose Sr. and Jr. confided for a moment. Jose Jr. asked me to come with them for a short car trip. Soon, we were in the countryside, entering a pasture through a cattle-gate. Jose Jr. explained the family also raised bulls. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX0BeCJ0uASKsky55dsEj7J8eU79JROp8esYt-eRYBKniz1oMQDkr3JYqR1THq8yADeySmxalyORsFYiTzN30_cimdPGgauyTBiqYu5kfuhplELXpshb90MSOTFYiG6lhMFsNTkUjWb0A/s492/La+Ganaderia+Juan+Pedro+Domecq.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="276" data-original-width="492" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX0BeCJ0uASKsky55dsEj7J8eU79JROp8esYt-eRYBKniz1oMQDkr3JYqR1THq8yADeySmxalyORsFYiTzN30_cimdPGgauyTBiqYu5kfuhplELXpshb90MSOTFYiG6lhMFsNTkUjWb0A/w615-h345/La+Ganaderia+Juan+Pedro+Domecq.jpg" width="615" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">La Ganaderia del Juan Pedro Domecq</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>We were at La Ganaderia de Juan Pedro Domecq, a bull farm. As Jose pulled up to six large bulls lazing around in the pasture he said, "We cannot show you the feria at Pamplona. But we can show you the bulls. These are selected for the feria in Pamplona this year." We proceeded to go to a small practice and testing ring where horses were trained in an old technique that was revived by Juan Pedro, of fighting bulls from horseback, called <i>rejoneaderos</i>. In the salon the walls were covered with pictures of many of the great matadores, and many of the great bulls as well.<br /><br />That evening we ended the visit by sitting outside on a lovely plaza, table groaning with hot Marcona almonds, plump green olives, gigantic prawns, and a magnificent display of seafood and meats and cheeses. With, of course, La Ina.<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKd3B1HrplyXrQWLQYBpnzlw5YtGYfHGbz6tlBN3SOTnBTXjtVkwKciwpkF71_I2YynUtLhUBNDQB5BSIQPmaT_FUiIsyeYiq8Ytt2NiL63hLjgTQV3iUoulTy3eYrgXrJQ-1KU7TIYDQ/s1895/Domecq+oloroso.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1895" data-original-width="1005" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKd3B1HrplyXrQWLQYBpnzlw5YtGYfHGbz6tlBN3SOTnBTXjtVkwKciwpkF71_I2YynUtLhUBNDQB5BSIQPmaT_FUiIsyeYiq8Ytt2NiL63hLjgTQV3iUoulTy3eYrgXrJQ-1KU7TIYDQ/s320/Domecq+oloroso.jpg" /></a></div><div>As I was leaving the next day to take the train to Bordeaux, Jose Jr. noticed I was carrying a wine box and asked about it. I told him his father had given me a parting gift. Jose Jr. said it was traditional at the bodega that if Don Jose liked someone he would tender a bottle of Oloroso that was his private solera he had chosen when he became Director. He chose a 50 year old "black" oloroso that he had worked on with his father many years before. </div><div><br /></div><div> "It is impressive that he gifted you a bottle. He rarely does that. It is special for him, that oloroso."<br /><br />I quietly said, "Then I am honored because he gave me two bottles." Surprised and impressed, Jose Jr. said that it was indeed a rare honor.<br /><br />The second bottle sits atop my wine rack. It's empty now, and has been for a good while. I doled it out sparely but could not resist sharing it with my wine friends.</div><div><br /></div><div>El Nariz passed away at the age of 82.</div></div>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-2040657812145691662020-10-29T17:39:00.000-07:002024-03-02T09:42:42.134-08:00The Places I've Been, The People I've Met: Don Jose Ignacio Domecq: Part I/Rioja<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0Srcnw6FLps-CHzAvgGx6am1d8aar0lMn43y90EcxefW1mywnXMUVqXNwjrD6H_FrxluQJbjTVf3SmMQfoW9RTpSkI8iy1spVTh3xdCJZzZKwKhPk_3W7k09uaU3hLwSfqAX_DDYP8s/s2048/Me+Don+Jose+Ignacio+Domecq.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1607" data-original-width="2048" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0Srcnw6FLps-CHzAvgGx6am1d8aar0lMn43y90EcxefW1mywnXMUVqXNwjrD6H_FrxluQJbjTVf3SmMQfoW9RTpSkI8iy1spVTh3xdCJZzZKwKhPk_3W7k09uaU3hLwSfqAX_DDYP8s/w500-h393/Me+Don+Jose+Ignacio+Domecq.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>I have been a fortunate man, able to travel and learn and grow through my entire life. My career in wine and spirits has allowed me to visit the most fascinating places and meet the most intriguing people.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br />Here's one of those places, and one of those people.</i><br /><br />How often do you meet a person only once <br />and recall him in every detail almost forty years later?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />Don Jose Ignacio Domecq, Sr. had that effect on people. He was a truly memorable and admirable man.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We first met in La Rioja Alavesa.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTSurp7YL2LauR7LA_3dDF8nBxWRR1VC3YoA_O9Uw6OHkUiQLABRaeaWoLRy7VW1DaKmFAp9GK9I6TPf1-Qfz1RUlrY4O3cpJDy5CbB38pmcldf2na93JKKCNG_SFIxaJd0yGXyajOGU/s500/Vinedos+de+la+Rioja+CC.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="321" data-original-width="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTSurp7YL2LauR7LA_3dDF8nBxWRR1VC3YoA_O9Uw6OHkUiQLABRaeaWoLRy7VW1DaKmFAp9GK9I6TPf1-Qfz1RUlrY4O3cpJDy5CbB38pmcldf2na93JKKCNG_SFIxaJd0yGXyajOGU/s0/Vinedos+de+la+Rioja+CC.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Rioja<br />Creative Commons</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQhNEjtZY6-hjPvzeu8BgEZ5_yndlrY6aeA8AFf4LeBCNDYq8tnlv5YyS8ZWF5klb-v8QsWu7gzN9_swnz-zfBs7rMvVW1v3iyCsztBOUOLtIsaXGslkJ7HqaSKkrMArMFifH7u5gjv_c/s600/View+from+La+Gaurdia+CC.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQhNEjtZY6-hjPvzeu8BgEZ5_yndlrY6aeA8AFf4LeBCNDYq8tnlv5YyS8ZWF5klb-v8QsWu7gzN9_swnz-zfBs7rMvVW1v3iyCsztBOUOLtIsaXGslkJ7HqaSKkrMArMFifH7u5gjv_c/s0/View+from+La+Gaurdia+CC.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view of the Rioja Alavesa<br />from the hilltop town of La Guardia<br />Creative Commons</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I was on my first in-depth wine trip to Spain to explore the wine country, and for part of that trip I was the guest of Jose Ignacio Domecq, Sr., then scion of the family enterprise and Managing Director of Domecq's renowned sherries. His son Jose Jr. greeted me on arrival in Rioja Alavesa and escorted me to the Bodegas Domecq guest house in Elciego where their winery, Marques de Arrienzo, was located, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">in the valley of the Ebro.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQdzwRFPNTWXRLxThr85eX-GE526XBVPO6S83qixlYwoFqq7TofvVOXi5tshHPDUx-cHwBw18WdPebEgPXW5CmQAaENGw-G5yo2EdqVxu9bb-2DIOyBkpzroARtZvrQo42TIi3YU8ePNg/s253/Bodegas+Domecq+Arrienzo.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="213" data-original-width="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQdzwRFPNTWXRLxThr85eX-GE526XBVPO6S83qixlYwoFqq7TofvVOXi5tshHPDUx-cHwBw18WdPebEgPXW5CmQAaENGw-G5yo2EdqVxu9bb-2DIOyBkpzroARtZvrQo42TIi3YU8ePNg/s0/Bodegas+Domecq+Arrienzo.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I came down for cocktails and dinner that evening and was astonished to see a teeming crowd filling the room. It seemed I had intruded on the annual event of declaring the vintage blend, the Cosecha, and selecting the Riserva release. All the significant branches of the family gathered to participate in the three-day procedure. I apologized to Don Jose, but he serenely waved his hand and said there was no intrusion and he was pleased to welcome me on my first visit to Rioja.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I was immediately impressed by Don Jose. I suspect most people were; he had a palpable presence and easily commanded the room simply by being himself. He was an aristocrat in every fiber of his being and carried himself with disciplined dignity; every move, every gesture was sure, precise, and purposed and his back was as straight as a ramrod. Yet he was warm, welcoming and charming, eloquent in conversation and almost preternaturally alert to his surroundings. Not a tall man, but he seemed to be, for he was always elegant and poised. At 74, he remained whipcord thin, with only an older man's potbelly betraying him. I was not at all surprised to learn he had been a renowned polo player in his younger years, by all accounts an aggressive player and accomplished rider.<br /><br />It is rare for a man to impress me so immediately and thoroughly, but Don Jose did just that. I was to learn more of him over the next two days, with everything increasing my esteem for him.<br /><br />For dinner, we drove to Logrono and dined in the Palacio--which was quite literally a palace, the Renaissance palace of a Catholic Bishop-Prince, with a galleria, a long tiled hallway in colonnade, the air scented by oranges and lemons. A young server in formal dress stood quietly behind a service table holding an entire haunch of the justly famed Jamon Iberico from the black-footed bellota pigs. He would smoothly slice a thin sliver of the dark red ham to each guest. One simple bite of perfection, unadorned, to start the appetite.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0-HCCm_lrAGLx_GdS47MPfsd8-xz2UZ5ZWr6QYP-sKP5oWtbS2MuvaODuWi6oQvs5I1N1zLYWv3mVz4MNCh-_SZdeYwZNQjwvqY2QTcUba0UtDBpqirtOiA0Dl27Vj31HO92Hss9sV0/s660/Logrono+Cloister.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="371" data-original-width="660" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0-HCCm_lrAGLx_GdS47MPfsd8-xz2UZ5ZWr6QYP-sKP5oWtbS2MuvaODuWi6oQvs5I1N1zLYWv3mVz4MNCh-_SZdeYwZNQjwvqY2QTcUba0UtDBpqirtOiA0Dl27Vj31HO92Hss9sV0/w400-h225/Logrono+Cloister.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A current photo of the Cloister Hallway<br />at the palace.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dinner was delightful. I asked Don Jose if he would advise me because I was not experienced in the foods of the Alavesa and would appreciate his guidance. Obviously pleased at this, he worked through the menu with me. He suggested a menestra of fresh, local vegetables, and for the main course, he said with great delight, I must have the Cocochas de Merluza.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And so it was the Cocochas (in Basque, Kokotxas), a succulent dish of the cheeks of the hake fish, cooked in a rich puree of salsa verde with sorrel, purslane, mertensia, and extra virgin olive oil.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em;"><tbody><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;">.</div><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1t3ekfdgQoSy7hroG4X1owuW6fg4Tu9KeRCB2xkmSMuqat0ZbGQFnCyvnCmF9DyulA0UhEx-PJYnQSIytlJmI-yYdbrUbdkxjCvp3pXPxsBt_fvhdfA0oa026vpEA6woRxRYsE2YSFg/s560/paladaressiglo21-RicardCamarena_recetas-Cocohasdemerluzaestofadasenunjugodehierbasdeplaya-detalle.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><img border="0" data-original-height="348" data-original-width="560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1t3ekfdgQoSy7hroG4X1owuW6fg4Tu9KeRCB2xkmSMuqat0ZbGQFnCyvnCmF9DyulA0UhEx-PJYnQSIytlJmI-yYdbrUbdkxjCvp3pXPxsBt_fvhdfA0oa026vpEA6woRxRYsE2YSFg/s320/paladaressiglo21-RicardCamarena_recetas-Cocohasdemerluzaestofadasenunjugodehierbasdeplaya-detalle.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="text-align: center;"><font color="#073763"><b>Cocochas de Merluza <br />by Ricard Camarena</b></font></span><span style="text-align: center;"><br /><font color="#073763">Camarena is a noted Michelin <br />** Chef </font></span><font color="#073763"><span style="text-align: center;">from Valencia who operates three </span><span style="text-align: center;">restaurants in Spain. His version of</span><br style="text-align: center;" /><span style="text-align: center;">Cocochas de Merluza is similar to what</span><br style="text-align: center;" /><span style="text-align: center;">I had in Logrono. I look forward to trying </span><span style="text-align: center;">it someday.</span></font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That evening I spoke with Don Jose about the cosecha and asked if it would be possible for me to observe part of the process, as it was fascinating to me and I would learn much from it, although I would certainly understand if it had to remain private to the family.<br /><br />Don Jose listened, and pondered for a moment, then jovially replied "Observe? No. It is best to do, not watch. As it happens a respected guest could not join us this year because of health problems. Perhaps you know him? A French gentleman from Bordeaux, Mr. Emile Peynaud? We would be pleased if you would occupy his chair for us and provide an American view." I breathed deeply. Me, sitting in for Emile Peynaud, the master of Bordeaux? The mere thought was audacious: the idea was irresistible.<br /><br />I thanked Don Jose for his consideration. We proceeded to have a delightful evening. I was already quite impressed with my host and his dignified but warm nature.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Over the next two days, I was privileged to work with the family. And it was work, believe me. We were tasked with tasting about 200 samples of Rioja tinto from estate vineyards and contract vineyards. Each bottle sample had the pertinent data: quantity available, abv, acidity, etc. As we tasted and began to form an impression of the vintage while fixing the discrete characteristics each sample displayed, we began to relate one sample to another. My analogy was that of a painter: take the colors that you have, visualize a “portrait” of the vintage you see emerging, then touch up and highlight certain aspects to make it unique.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Which meant I had to choose my base for volume or blend multiple bases to reach the volume. Then I could integrate the highlights, subtle tones of aroma, flavor, texture that make a wine intriguing. But I had to be subtle, careful not to exaggerate, not to add too much “makeup” to the portrait.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then the hard part. When you get closer to the finishing touches you can go back to the small vineyard/small volume samples to add a touch of herb, or spice, or berry. And sometimes you must include samples that bring up the abv to the necessary levels; or add body and fullness; or simply add color. And this is made slightly more difficult by the Tempranillo, as it isn’t an aromatic grape and can be easily manipulated with relatively small amounts, so a delicate touch was needed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I realized I lacked the comfortable, familiar relationships of the Domecqs to the vines and wines. They knew the individual vineyards from long experience. Yet I was pleased with my finished blends; I felt each clearly displayed its Rioja-ness and was an honest representation of the vintage.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then we debated, argued, contested, championed the finalist samples, made some necessary adjustments, and submitted our bottled samples. Everyone cheered.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As a finale, the Domecqs were to declare a riserva. Most of the Domecqs left; a smaller cadre remained. Don Jose asked if I could step out of the room for a while. I must have shown a touch of regret, for Don Jose quickly touched my arm, saying “No, no, only for a few moments. Then you will be asked to come back; your work is not over.”</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWKIDNzJW_xY1_zlcaFmtpoaxGTmWtWVfPfdAs5sIEnLlX7YZR2C1pkjJooW7am0YYDr3900QbWyVgcdTzF0rJmhZo_u_WPHBYxlXrUuh3KBRNU3Oe5Lokn9KmN_2fzjYXJBN8zqNgud4/s1259/Arienza+1982.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1259" data-original-width="720" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWKIDNzJW_xY1_zlcaFmtpoaxGTmWtWVfPfdAs5sIEnLlX7YZR2C1pkjJooW7am0YYDr3900QbWyVgcdTzF0rJmhZo_u_WPHBYxlXrUuh3KBRNU3Oe5Lokn9KmN_2fzjYXJBN8zqNgud4/w187-h328/Arienza+1982.jpg" width="187" /></a>Reassured, I went to my room, refreshed myself, and came back down to the salon. Not long after, I was invited in.<br /><br />On one table, four bottles were lined up. The Domecqs were standing quietly off to the side, watching. Expectant of what, I knew not.<br /><br />Don Jose asked me to taste carefully and then choose my favorite of the four. "And please explain to us why it is you like the one you chose."<br /><br />With due deliberation, I tasted through the four. Then again to confirm my impressions. I turned to Don Jose and said, "Number Three. Definitely Number Three. It is clearly rioja with its light cherry notes, just a bit of bitterness in the background to add interesting complexity, faint smoke, and sweet vanilla oak spice to balance, but not in excess. It has the structure of Bordeaux, but lighter, less stern, less austere. Easy to drink, easy to match with a range of foods, but a bit more depth and development than the average crianza wine."<br /><br /><br />Again, Don Jose beamed in pleasure, and the others gathered around to thank me.<br /><br />"What did I just do? It's obvious there was some sort of test going on."<br /><br />Don Jose said with a smile, "Yes, in a way, but it was a test of you and of us. These are the final contenders for our choice of Riserva Rioja. We had made our decision, but we wished to see how you would assess them."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>"So I did well?"<br /><br />"Oh, yes. You just selected the one we all voted on as the best. You made it unanimous. And you described it well. This will be our Rioja Riserva."<br /><br />He vigorously shook my hand and we went to the salon to have a glass of lightly chilled Domecq La Ina.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgLc9ExQxRM6Vo5zuMQJfcuR4kSI7R1F5Sne0fJ89uhKJhjqeEH6YUz76erSzohIZcauKVFnHibkyxlAt7cHPiE5-JBvGVdCZ5VyK_3VPphO6yZhYI2zO1RqcSEDW2DEze-2YufJfjf0w/s268/images.png" style="display: inline; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="268" data-original-width="188" height="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgLc9ExQxRM6Vo5zuMQJfcuR4kSI7R1F5Sne0fJ89uhKJhjqeEH6YUz76erSzohIZcauKVFnHibkyxlAt7cHPiE5-JBvGVdCZ5VyK_3VPphO6yZhYI2zO1RqcSEDW2DEze-2YufJfjf0w/w77-h110/images.png" width="77" /></a></div><div style="text-align: right;"></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZq6f9snMI7QylkZARcHg96tvWEcyPsSXI_Vyu-mCeJviD_whK6a3ELa-XIhYJB2ImjE2lwMh_YXkYeBDEm8BKIrMCgiA9oe8D9fmpPRqJ3rjFr8UiBQoF8uUD_1Kj5vymWStpEidjH1o/s275/meson+chuchi+fuenmayor.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZq6f9snMI7QylkZARcHg96tvWEcyPsSXI_Vyu-mCeJviD_whK6a3ELa-XIhYJB2ImjE2lwMh_YXkYeBDEm8BKIrMCgiA9oe8D9fmpPRqJ3rjFr8UiBQoF8uUD_1Kj5vymWStpEidjH1o/s0/meson+chuchi+fuenmayor.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#073763"><a href="www.mesonchuchi.com">Meson Chuchi en Fuenmayor<br />www.mesonchuchi.com</a></font><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Don Jose was called back to Jerez; we stayed another day and a half with Jose, Jr. Another marvelous dinner at Meson Chuchi, in Fuenmayor. Roasted Branzino with a crust of garlic and herbs. The aromas wafting from the golden herb-crusted whole fish were maddening, further enhanced by watching the waiter's adroit performance of boning and fileting the branzino.<br /><br />For lunch the next day we enjoyed a typical Alavesa treat in the vineyards: Jose Jr. gathered up some scraps of vine trimmings and we walked out on the flat rocks at the edge of the Ebro. He piled up the vinewood, started a fire, and pulled out a package of fresh-cut lamb sliced paper-thin. He rubbed it with garlic and seasoning herbs and olive oil from his satchel and held the strips over the flame with sticks. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"This is a normal lunch for the workers in the vineyards. Some cheese. Some bread." he explained, pulling those from his satchel. Simple, quick, and delicious, especially with the tinto from the vineyard we had been walking through. All we left behind was a smudge of vinewood ash already ghosting off over the river with the breezes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2GXx6aT4EoyYno6sTNx0K6_O1ZZ1kJF8J1WIyRC-k_oIw0se3na-fPVbNZASjW1hfMvy8xl3BL0tWTvlXFMFuVJxk48xwU4xnVHptkgMtnj2ygIBL7kV7SeN0LtIHN7JhD5GTqezK2cQ/s1024/Ebro+vineyards+CC.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2GXx6aT4EoyYno6sTNx0K6_O1ZZ1kJF8J1WIyRC-k_oIw0se3na-fPVbNZASjW1hfMvy8xl3BL0tWTvlXFMFuVJxk48xwU4xnVHptkgMtnj2ygIBL7kV7SeN0LtIHN7JhD5GTqezK2cQ/s640/Ebro+vineyards+CC.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#073763">Rioja Alavesa<br /></font>Creative Commons.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Part Two: Don Jose rejoins us in Jerez.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-59460277723852024742020-10-20T12:12:00.000-07:002020-10-20T12:12:04.853-07:00The Places I've Been; The People I've Met: Gerald Asher<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsmVf-MxKdXLz2ZHr4eosM8ruFObxIM8_hY7wQq8zaP6UmQRB4V8hXg8tUWRsnysibQwjuzHnUff2n9pGtwJ4IcBDqiUxF1e_tqOlYa1D50sIqi6ZrcTNiD-OReCd5jUuf7PlEbQ2dNtA/s850/quote-i-made-a-mental-note-to-watch-which-bottle-became-empty-soonest-sometimes-a-more-telling-gerald-asher-67-10-57.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="850" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsmVf-MxKdXLz2ZHr4eosM8ruFObxIM8_hY7wQq8zaP6UmQRB4V8hXg8tUWRsnysibQwjuzHnUff2n9pGtwJ4IcBDqiUxF1e_tqOlYa1D50sIqi6ZrcTNiD-OReCd5jUuf7PlEbQ2dNtA/w640-h302/quote-i-made-a-mental-note-to-watch-which-bottle-became-empty-soonest-sometimes-a-more-telling-gerald-asher-67-10-57.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>My favorite quote from Gerald Asher. He had an amazing ability to casually say something profound, always accompanied by his beatific smile, just leaving it out there for you to consider. This one riveted me. I had recently been elevated to the dreaded role of 'gatekeeper', deciding which wines were given the opportunity to be showcased on the shelves of a massive multi-store beverage chain. I took the responsibility quite seriously, and did not wish to deprive anyone of their ability to enjoy delicious wine. But there was always that Damoclean decision of profit-generation versus discovery and exposure. Because of Gerald Asher, I leaned whenever I could to the side of discovery, the joy of finding something new and unexplored. </p><p>I could not rely on my tastes and intuition alone to accomplish that. I had to learn to constantly educate myself, listen to other people and to watch how they responded to the wines they liked. After all, these wines were not for me and my tastes: they were for my customers. I had to satisfy them but I could also guide them into greater pleasures. So Gerald's quip became my standard procedure: I always attempted to taste wines in the company of others and pay close attention to which bottle got empty first, It served me well.</p><p> Gerald Asher was my mentor. I doubt he knew it, as we met in person only three times, but those meetings affected me so deeply I eagerly devoured everything he wrote. He led me to truth more times than I could describe. His eloquence was profound; his insights remarkable; his advice and guidance faultless. Many times Gerald renewed my dedication to the world of wines with his observations. I had never known--and still have not discovered---anyone who could express the synthesis of intellectual analysis and emotional passion that is wine as well as he.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3DuJ03IVgDj2YHs72kzDjhbRQgJZQ3hwM4b-iyw2EC-p8kY7snuDzpoKRXiYtnBuoEcN7fMCN1Rwx8Hp1SFUCvSggfUFyCAL-LmeFVCB3Cp87UCd1Eyp_f_TWO0Pe2K_JAI6iSh9Ujy8/s620/IMG_0287.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="620" data-original-width="620" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3DuJ03IVgDj2YHs72kzDjhbRQgJZQ3hwM4b-iyw2EC-p8kY7snuDzpoKRXiYtnBuoEcN7fMCN1Rwx8Hp1SFUCvSggfUFyCAL-LmeFVCB3Cp87UCd1Eyp_f_TWO0Pe2K_JAI6iSh9Ujy8/w400-h400/IMG_0287.JPG" width="400" /></a> </div>This became my guiding star. It clarified precisely what I had been searching for in wine. "It draws on everything and leads everywhere." I was traveling that same path, on an amazing journey from looking at the parts while trying to understand the sums. And it is true: everything leads everywhere.<br /><br />In my own experiences, and because of my own proclivities, I explored geography, geology, soils, climate, micro-cultures, wind patterns, the magnificent imprints of language on wine, and wine on language, the overwhelming message of place and time and human effect on what a wine can and will be. Gerald was always leading me; where I was arriving he had already been and was encouraging me to continue. I could not have had a better Pied Piper tootling me on.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQpEwRIoOHQyWGvV6Lsn7JlYlenyHQ2x1o0bs4sRqSD6mZnQdCyIJBGrGUt46NHk8jaCcYz583XwtFU0NKNhYkCUQu4gzSgp0YzzCC9WLx8gIQh6yDzx_MchQUpOT5VAOPPVVVu-1C_Ds/s620/IMG_0288.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="620" data-original-width="620" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQpEwRIoOHQyWGvV6Lsn7JlYlenyHQ2x1o0bs4sRqSD6mZnQdCyIJBGrGUt46NHk8jaCcYz583XwtFU0NKNhYkCUQu4gzSgp0YzzCC9WLx8gIQh6yDzx_MchQUpOT5VAOPPVVVu-1C_Ds/w400-h400/IMG_0288.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>That may not seem such a revelation as it appeared to me at the time, yet it was that and more. Wine could be merely a glass of fermented grape juice, and much of it was. Much of what I trafficked in commercially was precisely that, a liquid with alcohol in it that held no hint of its origins. That held no interest for me, that mildly alcoholic, laboratory-balanced, soul-wiped expression of nothing. Wine had to have a grander definition than grape juice with alcohol in it, and Gerald supplied it. </p><p>Gerald's statement---really , his philosophy---was such that I could formulate my own theory and approach the 'specific place...particular slant of history...reflection of the total environment...common usages' as my defining point in assessing wines. What I came to was my analogy of a 'Three-Legged Stool": Any wine worthy of consideration rests on three elements. It had to show the Grape (or blend of grapes), the Place, and the People who made it. Each of those legs can vary in influence, of course. But they had to be present. Standard and often belabored talking points now; but this was the opening salvo of The Terroir Debates that still go on today. </p><p>In Alsace, for instance, the wines of Marcel Deiss can be impressive, while not necessarily the best example of Alsatian wines. Deiss is an <i>auteur</i> of his wines and no matter what grapes he uses, the finished wines clearly reflect Deiss primarily. Trimbach, on the other hand, is an absolute stickler for consistency, where the process seldom changes and even vintage variations are rarely significant. Deiss is an expression of Deiss; Trimbach is an expression of Alsace.<br /><br />Another example is Angelo Gaja, that towering presence in the Piedmont, known as a rebel and at the same time a traditionalist. He used the native dialect to describe his estate vineyards, usually coupled with a beloved family member's name. <br /><br /><b>~Sori Tildin:</b> Tildin was a nickname for his mother, but<i> Sori </i>signified a "hilltop with southern exposure". <br /><br /><b>~Costa Russi: </b>Russi was the original owner of the vineyard, but<i> Costa </i>declares it is "the side of the hill facing the sun". <br /><br /><b>~Alteni di Brassica:<i> </i></b><i>Alteni</i> refers to the low white stone walls that surrounded the orchards in the area, and<i> brassica </i>the bright, yellow flowers that cover the vineyard in Spring.<br /><br />What is the significance of this parsing of language? Gaja knew the rustic names signified something about the specific sites and conveyed it on the label. In the Piedmont, a cold growing region, the hilltop that faces south or the hillside where the sun shines will be the one where grapes ripen fully to provide the best fruit. You cannot perceive that from a detached analysis of the parts. Gaja was proclaiming that site---the particular place---was the most important factor in a wine, and that even his towering ego was secondary to that.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>I told Gerald of a gala wine lunch featuring medal-winning wines from a competition. <br />The young man on my left, a California winemaker, suddenly became quite<br />animated. "Watch this," he said, smiling in anticipation. "That's my wine. <br />It's a Sauvignon Blanc but everyone thinks it's a Chardonnay."<br />With a quick grimace, Gerald replied, "I don't believe I would be<br />excited by or interested in that young man's wine."</i></p><p><br />One of the finest winemaker-savants I knew, Dennis Martin (Fetzer/Bonterra) was brilliant at large-scale production of wine. His primary job of maintaining quality and a consistent style while satisfying corporate budget and high-volume demands was testament to his ability. Denny---if you knew him you called him Denny---did it better than anyone. He was perfectly capable of producing any number of site-specific, terroir-driven, varietally perfect wines and did so regularly. His single-vineyard Zinfandels, barrel-fermented Pinot Noirs (Oh, his Bien Nacido!) and Napa Usibelli Cabernets were thrilling examples of place, grape and style.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCW8AJZyb5idMrDT7BL3lHIvMFPtGTeCc4l20e4xDCKwLhM8rWIP-loFtwvR4LkHwk6l-Cl3gr3e_Q2ZU48_WRCRPl36GI9HMrYrAokmjFdJH8M8vhq2X9Ei-q-Xr1oay3HV22Ouekxmg/s620/IMG_0286.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="620" data-original-width="620" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCW8AJZyb5idMrDT7BL3lHIvMFPtGTeCc4l20e4xDCKwLhM8rWIP-loFtwvR4LkHwk6l-Cl3gr3e_Q2ZU48_WRCRPl36GI9HMrYrAokmjFdJH8M8vhq2X9Ei-q-Xr1oay3HV22Ouekxmg/s320/IMG_0286.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p>Gerald did not so much drink wines as he had relationships with them. Often friendly, sometimes passionately, he and the wine would relate with each other. As the wine changed in the glass, and Gerald subtly changed from the wine inside him, they adjusted to each other and their surroundings. One glass to him was a series of interactions and adjustments, and every sip, from the first to the very last, was a separate and distinct appreciation and analysis and understanding.</p><p>Gerald loved discovering new wines. He loved, even more, the opportunity to share his discoveries with others. I remember quite vividly when he introduced me to his latest treasure, Gavi di Gavi La Scolca. He was as excited as a teenager introducing me to his new girlfriend, and gleefully appreciated my pleased approval.<br /><br />One of my favorite of Gerald's 'word paintings' was a lazy, joyous, sunny afternoon in Beaujolais, sitting under the trees, talking, drinking, steadily becoming more relaxed and congenial as the day rolled gently on. He made that afternoon come alive, and perked the interest in Beaujolais immediately.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYP7EBd9SFKTSoyKWUnRDw3UOPyVDSqpxYTIQ4NceyUCV3UTJDLwr1CxZowSMXqG1SVW5AmxXo1NzENRTGgCFAvvbDSexrxPtpB18uAar0NoZq6cWysaI04xQS6IZWFiv9EMX1aP9vzRE/s500/On+wine+GA.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="335" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYP7EBd9SFKTSoyKWUnRDw3UOPyVDSqpxYTIQ4NceyUCV3UTJDLwr1CxZowSMXqG1SVW5AmxXo1NzENRTGgCFAvvbDSexrxPtpB18uAar0NoZq6cWysaI04xQS6IZWFiv9EMX1aP9vzRE/s320/On+wine+GA.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">Gerald's Gourmet columns are legendary, of course.<br />They provide endless delighted hours of knowledge<br />that never bores, pleasures that never fade, and the<br />sheer joy of travel and discovery. <br /><br />His several books reveal to all <br />his 'bright shining eyes' as<br />he radiates with pleasure.<br /><br />On Wine is the bedrock of Gerald's lifelong<br />passionate love affair with wine,</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /><br />Gerald was a gifted writer. He was also the most convivial and inclusive conversationalist I've ever had the sheer joy of observing. The man could work a crowd. He knew it, and he used the gift. </p><p>I once observed him in a private-room dinner crowd. This avuncular, short, puckish Englishman with his fruity Brit accent effortlessly charmed, entertained, delighted, and educated every person in that widely divergent room. Afterward, every person felt Gerald had been talking directly to him (yes, it was an all-him night; but I had seen Gerald exert the same charm with women). </p><p>The next evening he did exactly the same thing with a crowd of more than three hundred. He told amusing stories of his first shower in America (short man/tall showerhead) to break the ballroom ice, then proceeded to a tour-de-force of delightful but always informative commentary on the wines, replete with history, culture, process, and descriptions of people. His knowledge of all things wine was truly profound, but what he communicated most was his sheer love of the subject, and especially of the wine in his hand.<br /><br />Mind you, this was a dinner wine tasting with six courses that stretched for hours. Yet when Gerald was speaking, chatter subsided, everyone listened, no one spoke, and there was nary a murmur in the crowd. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMKo5rjhQ8ONTFCsICPokmpj7NB5Ad0qej7mWUMgMH84TTL0RBYoZ6sfs4V2t1fhCC5LmH2-uL6wdqrouPPLFx1ysesy74hVYIJ7cH8piL4XLaWeLsj9y6JJBVVOgFvdIuP1Yi1w1Wgs/s474/Vineyard+Tales.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="474" data-original-width="336" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMKo5rjhQ8ONTFCsICPokmpj7NB5Ad0qej7mWUMgMH84TTL0RBYoZ6sfs4V2t1fhCC5LmH2-uL6wdqrouPPLFx1ysesy74hVYIJ7cH8piL4XLaWeLsj9y6JJBVVOgFvdIuP1Yi1w1Wgs/s320/Vineyard+Tales.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">A sentimental favorite of mine, Vineyard Tales<br />became a well-worn, place-marked, and<br />ear-thumbed volume to me, to the extent that<br />I had to purchase a second copy. All the things<br />Gerald loved about wine are captured herein.</span> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="text-align: center;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p><span face=""Lora Regular", system-ui" style="-webkit-text-stroke: 0.45px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1); background-color: white;"></span></p><blockquote style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">Linda Murphy, SF Chronicle Wine Editor, on Gerald Asher:</span> </blockquote><blockquote style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><i>His thoughtful prose is as elegant as aged Bordeaux;</i></span> </blockquote><blockquote style="text-align: center;"><i style="color: #073763;">when he writes on Provence, I smell the flowers.</i></blockquote><p style="text-align: center;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>At a prestigious wine event in Texas, Gerald was asked to moderate the key seminar of the day with a panel of several of the most successful players in the business. The seminar was SRO and billedd as a serious and sober (pun intended) analysis of Chardonnay, the best-selling white variety in the U.S. </p><p>Gerald, starchily formal, started off by saying "Chardonnay." After a long beat, with the timing of a Jack Benny, he broke into a devilish grin and said "Chardonnay? Chardonnay is to wine as chicken is to food. It will be whatever you want it to be." During the panel under Gerald's benign and permissive guidance, one speaker sonorously intoned, "If I could predict the trends in Chardonnay alone, I'd be sitting on a goddam yacht right now." Gerald poked Sydney Sigel, one of the most successful (and outspoken) wine retailers in the Texas market. Sigall perked up his head, took the cigar from his mouth, said "I own a goddam yacht!", then appeared to go back to his nap. Gerald beamed.<br /><br />I miss him. I miss his gentle soul, his wisdom, and his guidance. He was a delight to know and a sheer joy to read. He had an encyclopedic knowledge of wine, but never once spoke in a condescending tone. He was what I wished I could have been, but never would be. I can visit him occasionally through his many articles, columns and books, and I do. But I miss his presence, his smile, and his glass in hand. And I am still paying attention to the bottle that empties first and fastest.</p><i style="color: #111111;"></i><p></p>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-62097097396899634122020-10-12T10:32:00.001-07:002020-10-13T16:41:33.434-07:00My Own Personal Cocktail Hall of Fame: Adam Robinson and The Golden Ticket<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwhHpJlLzQmVV1nc3yBqPQmuQYR9FRexxl2OA_HylJo34P7d5FGlkZEJkVup7T9TOTj4mF7tSiFxlcxhPshraDIhA-zY9fcmE5ngRVtvdWXHhfZN6RdwFiLSvZpGsWTuXJe36njbf-MQM/s800/Adam+R+cognac.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="800" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwhHpJlLzQmVV1nc3yBqPQmuQYR9FRexxl2OA_HylJo34P7d5FGlkZEJkVup7T9TOTj4mF7tSiFxlcxhPshraDIhA-zY9fcmE5ngRVtvdWXHhfZN6RdwFiLSvZpGsWTuXJe36njbf-MQM/w400-h250/Adam+R+cognac.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763;">The Golden Ticket by Adam Robinson</span></b></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E86" style="background-color: white; display: inline;"><br /><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">As a B.N.I.C Certified Cognac Educator, I was asked to judge at a PDX Cocktail Week Cognac Throwdown sponsored by Experience Cognac! and Lush Life Productions a few years ago. I was delighted to see some top-notch bartenders---five of them---compete in the final round at the Punchbowl Social in downtown Portland.
Each and every cognac cocktail was impressive. It was delightful to see (and taste) so many variations of what cognac could do. Taken all in all the cocktails submitted showed an astonishing range of creative possibilities. For me, the most intriguing aspect was cognac's ability to meld with the other spirits so as to both enhance the cognac but enhance the other spirits as well.
It was close at the end. It came down to decimal points. As a judge, I can tell you it was agonizing to be unable to celebrate all five cocktails, because they were all winners.</span>
</span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E86" style="background-color: white; display: inline;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><span face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E86" style="background-color: white; display: inline;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: trebuchet;"><b>~~~It was easy to cease thinking about this
Cognac Throwdown as a competition and enjoy it as a
presentation of five different interpretations of cognac
created by talented professionals.~~~</b></span></div><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">
</span><div style="font-size: 14.6667px; text-align: center;">But the one it came down to, the one that for me was hands-down the finest,
was The Golden Ticket by Adam Robinson. </div></span></span><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E86" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Those who know me and have read any of my opinions or articles, know full well that Adam Robinson is a brilliant bartender...and that in any lineup of favorite cocktails, Adam would be there. Quiet, thoughtful, low key, Adam consistently rolls out exciting, challenging, and provocative creations. With boundless imagination, impressive skill, and a dogged approach to achieving perfection, he is an avatar for other bartenders. He's a superstar.</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwwzg9KVNIio6gJFIOJoYKz-PKZ8Tu7LES2qmHQx6ZdG5vHM4b48FQP9DXAWaRPjX4qJUb4Lsi5Kd4Jhg8bFTL96xACsKH1ySGDPYowtMz-r1ci14bhUsL0MRuxc3hG231GsEBnm2V91A/s275/deadshot+fb.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwwzg9KVNIio6gJFIOJoYKz-PKZ8Tu7LES2qmHQx6ZdG5vHM4b48FQP9DXAWaRPjX4qJUb4Lsi5Kd4Jhg8bFTL96xACsKH1ySGDPYowtMz-r1ci14bhUsL0MRuxc3hG231GsEBnm2V91A/w400-h266/deadshot+fb.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><b>Deadshot</b><br />The pop-up that became permanent. After an accomplished career,<br />with a stunning resume of venues (Park Kitchen, Bent Brick,<br />Expatriate, and Rum Club, to name a few) Adam realized his own bar at Deadshot.<br />He was honored at Starchefs.com as<br /><b>Portland's Rising Star Bartender/Chef for 2018</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><span face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E86" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E86" style="display: inline;">So, what did Adam do in this particular instance to put me in hyperbolic mode? He stepped behind the bar, deftly set up his mise en place, and began to measure and mix his ingredients with a steady, certain grace, while maintaining a casual dialogue with those waiting. </span><span>In short order, we had a visually perfect pre-prohibition-style cocktail in front of us: A glass filled precisely with a gorgeous dark reddish-brown concoction and graced only with a slash of lemon peel, because that's all that was needed.</span></div></span><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E86" style="background-color: white; display: inline;"><span face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E80" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E80" style="display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Adam</span><span face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E81" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E81" style="display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Robinson brought serious game with his concoction of H by Hine VSOP Cognac; Dolin G</span><span class="qowt-font3-Rockwell" face="Rockwell, "Bodoni MT", BookAntiqua, "Times New Roman", Tinos, serif !important" id="E82" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E82" style="display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">é</span><span face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E83" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E83" style="display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">n</span><span class="qowt-font3-Rockwell" face="Rockwell, "Bodoni MT", BookAntiqua, "Times New Roman", Tinos, serif !important" id="E84" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E84" style="display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">é</span><span face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E85" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E85" style="display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">py des Alpes, a herbal liqueur from the French slopes of the Alps; Cynar, a bitter Italian liqueur based on artichokes;</span><span face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E86" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E86" style="display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and Lustau Amontillado Sherry. Adam’s cocktail was a boozy, heady drink in pre-Prohibition style, powerful and complex, with the Hine cognac showing through the intricate herbal mixture like a beacon through the fog.</span> </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E86" style="background-color: white; display: inline;"><br /></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_B_Pe5ArxFN1oTk-JffI57vbTUkDw_JJLjga3lKRxuluqtiVte72Yvt99xKDpE9i3ya7qVmZV4nGphOuKEa0gH6jj0i5m3erz1kGnJM-sp7OGICUGP29DwE97VoapK5wIocfA2DN7qpA/s1500/HINE-1.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="1500" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_B_Pe5ArxFN1oTk-JffI57vbTUkDw_JJLjga3lKRxuluqtiVte72Yvt99xKDpE9i3ya7qVmZV4nGphOuKEa0gH6jj0i5m3erz1kGnJM-sp7OGICUGP29DwE97VoapK5wIocfA2DN7qpA/w640-h256/HINE-1.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">Hine Cognac<br /></span></b><span style="color: #073763;">H by Hine, Hine Rare VSOP, Hine Antique XO</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Hine is a prestigious Cognac House in the Grande Champagne Cru, famous for its richly flavored, well-aged, and superbly blended brandies. The Hine Rare VSOP and Hine Antique XO have been for many years their standard offerings. A few years ago, with the increasing interest in cognacs in cocktails, Master Blender Eric Forget created a new release to fill the need of bartenders, the "H by Hine." It is also a VSOP grade, delivered at a slightly higher 90 Proof to boost its authority in a mixed cocktail. Bartenders love it. Adam Robinson loves it. It shows great character and style in The Golden Ticket.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCY4CUlQ9aXgscbJAclMAx3Dz9tplEK1iIYZAkzhxRTww-F4UNgO_qObo9fTx8QZBmRDxtDFyrEOqsYuXTXRWnTeGh3yG4YQUecc4jQF2039ACFCd3xpOOpO7sQRh2mTR3R9VAXlQJpR8/s172/dolin+genepy.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="155" data-original-width="172" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCY4CUlQ9aXgscbJAclMAx3Dz9tplEK1iIYZAkzhxRTww-F4UNgO_qObo9fTx8QZBmRDxtDFyrEOqsYuXTXRWnTeGh3yG4YQUecc4jQF2039ACFCd3xpOOpO7sQRh2mTR3R9VAXlQJpR8/w320-h288/dolin+genepy.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><b><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">Dolin Genepy des Alpes</span></b></div></b><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Dolin is a French vermouth producer in the Savoie region. Dolin also makes a traditional folk favorite now available in the U.S., Dolin Genepy des Alpes, </div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;">Genepy is an herbal liqueur made from local botanicals on the slopes of the Grande Chartreuse. It is similar to the legendary Chartreuse, as well as local absinthes, and shares their wormwood qualities.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It has become a bartender's favorite. In The Golden Ticket, it adds an absinthe/herb quality and a refreshing touch of cool menthol.</div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis65hEqwC-2Zd2zAzoK-vQ0cg-1E5E0oyOhN51A7inUMXH3eJLCb-DusEFEog_j2uNrPVklHwWX-G_YYZx5Rg4aypVzGKFkt2TL8S3mP6fi_kVK3xi6Set6w8FhIvwfXSs-bBOPhvUsLo/s1024/Cynar-1024x682.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="682" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis65hEqwC-2Zd2zAzoK-vQ0cg-1E5E0oyOhN51A7inUMXH3eJLCb-DusEFEog_j2uNrPVklHwWX-G_YYZx5Rg4aypVzGKFkt2TL8S3mP6fi_kVK3xi6Set6w8FhIvwfXSs-bBOPhvUsLo/s320/Cynar-1024x682.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><b><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">Cynar</span></b></div></b><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">What Is Cynar? Click over to <a href="https://vinepair.com/wine-blog/what-is-cynar/">VinePair here</a> for Emily Bell's nifty definition and explanation of what Cynar is and how it can be used. And if you haven't been on VinePair before, spend some time noodling around on the site. It's fun and informative.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">In The Golden Ticket, Cynar adds strong, bitter vegetal and herbal notes. It boosts the complexity of the cocktail tremendously, yet plays nicely with the other spirits in the blend.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWqRF7fd_J2DNBWzjNMN85uzd-7piNtBgVPBO2fR3eG0IC0ziZPDCSuYMkl-jFq54JcuX7Amq_Ifg6u4KZvOYYKIveuOR3iSlmlrYFOPdng1xkvGjbtqVHjE9wtx1PEY4wLObE1pfhakI/s1348/Lustau+Amontillado+Arcos.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1011" data-original-width="1348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWqRF7fd_J2DNBWzjNMN85uzd-7piNtBgVPBO2fR3eG0IC0ziZPDCSuYMkl-jFq54JcuX7Amq_Ifg6u4KZvOYYKIveuOR3iSlmlrYFOPdng1xkvGjbtqVHjE9wtx1PEY4wLObE1pfhakI/s320/Lustau+Amontillado+Arcos.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Adam put the final touches on this gorgeous cocktail with his addition of Lustau Amontillado, luxurious in texture and aromatic with roasted nuts,</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This sherry is intense, and just a little goes a long way. Here it completes the cocktail perfectly.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><b>Put those all together and...</b></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEJoJb1Y8QTNWDgymRzk3DZgo7HdQ3DDf1z08WL0P3x757ayau0A0y1YQ_cKA7yN1V2lemzYHe5wBHeoxgan2pZYdNUG2K16e8sGIiX48UyMMl88wE0UNOU4ycVC3OrIDiGye8sGxGWRQ/s400/PDXCW+Adam+cocktail.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="300" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEJoJb1Y8QTNWDgymRzk3DZgo7HdQ3DDf1z08WL0P3x757ayau0A0y1YQ_cKA7yN1V2lemzYHe5wBHeoxgan2pZYdNUG2K16e8sGIiX48UyMMl88wE0UNOU4ycVC3OrIDiGye8sGxGWRQ/w480-h640/PDXCW+Adam+cocktail.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">The Golden Ticket<br />by Adam Robinson</span></b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">Adam won that competition; his Golden Ticket was indeed a golden ticket. The B.N.I.C honored him with a trip to Cognac, deep immersion into the region and its namesake spirit, and a VIP Pass to the Cognac Blues Festival. Not long after, Adam was invited to return and become a B.N.I.C. Certified Cognac Educator. Last year Adam coordinated the Portland Cognac Bar Crawl to high acclaim.</span></div><a href="https://youtu.be/bMb3bq76DiA"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bMb3bq76DiA" width="320" youtube-src-id="bMb3bq76DiA"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Spend less than a minute with this entertaining video from Adam Robinson,</div></a>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-5153366611145781222020-10-09T13:06:00.001-07:002020-10-09T13:06:33.475-07:00My Own Personal Cocktail Hall of Fame: Justin Siemer, The Serpent and the Apple<p> </p><p>Does anyone remember Levant, the restaurant devoted to a fusion of foods from the Eastern Mediterranean, Adriatic and Aegean Seas, including Turkey, Israel, Palestine and Arabia.? The food was wonderful and the cocktail bar was small but welcoming, with folks like John Paul Longenecker, Michael Maliksi, and the redoubtable Justin Siemer pushing out some truly inspired cocktails. It also had the best selection of Anatolian Arrack I have seen in Portland.<br /><br />Sadly, Levant closed. The location became Tusk, another inspired pan-Levant production from the folks at Ava Gene.<br /><br />Let's briefly revive the memory of an outstanding cocktail from the Levant tenure, and secure it firmly in My Own Personal Cocktail Hall of Fame: The Serpent and the Apple by Justin Siemer.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqhkvFx_AWOzUMT0XvoeKPPyfl5qdlKj6qQGiL0xiv40-UeCHp9BoXGrBnETlBOGz9WW5CfRA9rgWyAhy1YPr5LFWAYgafjU1yffE20QRmzyTZB_iAX8h4M27645Y5Urgn5rBFknV0fg/s800/Levant+Serpent+and+Apple.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqhkvFx_AWOzUMT0XvoeKPPyfl5qdlKj6qQGiL0xiv40-UeCHp9BoXGrBnETlBOGz9WW5CfRA9rgWyAhy1YPr5LFWAYgafjU1yffE20QRmzyTZB_iAX8h4M27645Y5Urgn5rBFknV0fg/w640-h400/Levant+Serpent+and+Apple.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: large;"><b>The Serpent and the Apple, by Justin Siemer</b></span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br />Justin Siemer is one of the most dependably creative bartenders in our little microcosm of mixology in Portland. A man who walked away from a successful career in real estate.finance to pursue his own journey of discovery, Justin is famously focused on his craft. He mastered the basics quickly and knows how to push out the drinks while in the weeds of happy hour. He has a sure hand with the classics, and can work any bar, at any level, at any time, and shine.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeZzTidJnPH0JKJ8ssQbAaTeeb1EYyCq2Bf74QOdBBoOC7alLBkb0neaaJEtNyNrckp6XH3CnHH6qGmWa4QCChWIUOV1HGatxTF4Pmn441MKRw9cmONpI7pjNAi5JLhk1_-WUwihQdd10/s960/11401554_10200590410399390_3966958954017220388_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeZzTidJnPH0JKJ8ssQbAaTeeb1EYyCq2Bf74QOdBBoOC7alLBkb0neaaJEtNyNrckp6XH3CnHH6qGmWa4QCChWIUOV1HGatxTF4Pmn441MKRw9cmONpI7pjNAi5JLhk1_-WUwihQdd10/w300-h400/11401554_10200590410399390_3966958954017220388_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #783f04;"><b>Justin Siemer</b><br /><b>Great Bartender, Great Guy,</b><br /><b>and a Great Educator.</b><br />Justin agreed to guest star in my college<br />course (pro bono) and conduct a Hospitality<br />and Mixology class for 3 hours.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /><br />But Justin is dedicated to being, and doing, more. Restless, never satisfied, always looking to push whatever envelope he happens to be in, he is a ferocious creator of some of the most daring, unexpected, and viscerally satisfying cocktails you will find.<br /><br />A perfect example of Justin's creative powers is showcased by the cocktail he created at Levant, the Serpent and the Apple. Michael Maliski was behind the stick that night and suggested I try it. I was gobsmacked. There was so much going on in the glass, such a mix of aromatic nuance, silky texture, and exceptional flavor harmonies. This was a masterpiece.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWa5MX6Ze9xN6dlaP_ZWaKcVs2_vZZRyvf29DCCJJYb3QBLHCSSs3RPubYy9DHDeeAJ1XQ3ObInG8u-quCEORq5rdeJjJ4L_hOYAO4i315Huk3zBDS-R5RcNmKSO4s0D_vwJ407Llmkrw/s500/justin+siemer.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="375" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWa5MX6Ze9xN6dlaP_ZWaKcVs2_vZZRyvf29DCCJJYb3QBLHCSSs3RPubYy9DHDeeAJ1XQ3ObInG8u-quCEORq5rdeJjJ4L_hOYAO4i315Huk3zBDS-R5RcNmKSO4s0D_vwJ407Llmkrw/s320/justin+siemer.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Justin is a man of many faces, many of them<br />having to do with an ever-changing variety<br />of facial hair. So many beards, over so many years <br />But always cool.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br />When I corralled Justin later, he explained the cocktail is a composition of Laird's <br />Bottled in Bond Apple Brandy (although for a while during the BiB shortage, he was forced to use the Laird's Blended Applejack; good, but not the same), mixed with Smith & Cross Jamaican Pot-Still Rum, Mancino Italian Vermouth, Krupnik Spiced Honey Liqueur from Poland, Scrappy's Cardamom Bitters, and Angostura Bitters.<br /><br />When I had it, the cocktail was actually 'in development' at the time and Siemer was <span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E292" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E292" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">working on something along the l</span><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E293" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E293" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">ines of a sugared, spiced, </span><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E295" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E295" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">brul</span><span class="qowt-font1-Calibri" face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E296" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E296" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">é</span><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E299" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E299" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">ed</span><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E301" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E301" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> apple slice to echo the Laird’s apple brandy and Jamaican rum. That would no doubt add flair to the drink, but the version I had, with a burned orange peel expressed over the drink, then dropped in</span><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E302" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E302" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">,</span><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E303" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E303" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> provided a nice accent and decoration.</span><br /><br /><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E305" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E305" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">There’s an adage used in the cocktail game---although it most certainly applies in every endeavor---that says your drink is only as good as the ingredients you use.</span><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E306" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E306" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E307" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E307" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Serpent and Apple is a prime example of that: Each and every one of the ingredients used is of the highest quality, and that alone gives the cocktail power and style. The rest is in how the bartender puts it all together---and Siemer is superb at doing that.
</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E307" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E307" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2kyQ4cAcWh5x_sqU-_BU6QlOYxPkva9dQXnppAz6ENE8QN53NgLdOAJfiiEWd-mm447V9Hh372BlSahplPUWfFVHvWjiQVe58aJxZoq2ViS3Zzibfw5rRH-O8BjXh_6fP2KPSn3fhvOI/s500/Lairds+bib.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="161" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2kyQ4cAcWh5x_sqU-_BU6QlOYxPkva9dQXnppAz6ENE8QN53NgLdOAJfiiEWd-mm447V9Hh372BlSahplPUWfFVHvWjiQVe58aJxZoq2ViS3Zzibfw5rRH-O8BjXh_6fP2KPSn3fhvOI/s320/Lairds+bib.jpg" /></a></span></div><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif" id="E307" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E307" style="display: inline; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #783f04;"><br /><b>Laird's Straight Apple Brandy 'Bottled in Bond' 100 Proof</b></span><span style="color: #15171a;">
</span></span><p></p><p><a href="https://lairdandcompany.com/products/straight-apple-brandy/#:~:text=The%20%E2%80%9COriginal%20Applejack%E2%80%9D%2C%20Laird's,then%20bottled%20at%20100%20proof.">(LINK) </a>Laird's Straight Apple Brandy is as close to an American institution as you're going to yet. In colonial history the growth of America was assisted by planting apple orchards along the ever-progressing western frontier. That's what Johnny Appleseed was doing: staying just ahead of the settlers and planting apple orchards for spiffing the value of the real estate. At that time the standard drink of America was apple cider, with a barrel ready on every porch for tankard-dipping. Where there were apples, there was apple cider, and where there was cider, there was apple brandy.<br /><br />Careful though: This is the tippy-top of the top in apple brandy. <i>Bottled in Bond</i> and <i>Straight</i> signify this is made entirely from apples and aged under controlled conditions for a minimum of four years, then bottled at 100 Proof. If it says Applejack, the distiller is allowed to add neutral spirits and it is likely not aged as much. It's good, mind you; but the Laird's Straight Apple Brandy Bottled in Bond is the best!</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXuaKHhTJoFCo17q2CTizE8MySW_lOEignIXhUFVYsgGDckjqjw_hwJyq1BNDiBQGQjMezBVTyeIQdZHBtS33rWcYr4Tjprd-U4_ShYKi1xb8k7XfhyRw0X9veOnuXhE9cVIp4o9HtX7Y/s1000/smith_and_cross.bottle.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="266" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXuaKHhTJoFCo17q2CTizE8MySW_lOEignIXhUFVYsgGDckjqjw_hwJyq1BNDiBQGQjMezBVTyeIQdZHBtS33rWcYr4Tjprd-U4_ShYKi1xb8k7XfhyRw0X9veOnuXhE9cVIp4o9HtX7Y/s320/smith_and_cross.bottle.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="color: #783f04;"><b>Smith & Cross Pot-Still Jamaica Rum Navy Strength (Plummer & Wedderburn)</b></span></p><p><a href="https://alpenz.com/product-smith_and_cross.html">(LINK) </a>Rum is having its 'moment in the sun' right now, and rightly so. The Smith & Cross Jamaican Pot-Still Rum hearkens back to the original settlement of Jamaica by the English. All pot-still (which means more flavor and flavors), the S&M is also 'Plummer & Wedderburn,' which sounds weird but signifies this is a carefully chosen blend from the most aromatic of the pot-still batches. It's a savory rum, fat and pungent with molasses aromatics. Great by itself, but you'll find that bartenders absolutely love using this in cocktails. It adds a lot of weight to the already-sturdy apple brandy.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJeRVVmxCxzXLgDMKTxrMH_PjK8keXUtheSu5-YsSo0VAJvYQMntHsdnudowVSoEN6WDehMIUldX5MU4v9y8JhFmFAynbEYWDug6cACc9xAaIvLe_4CSyf44o97se5WYqdighrwLF_H4g/s388/krupnik.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="388" data-original-width="130" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJeRVVmxCxzXLgDMKTxrMH_PjK8keXUtheSu5-YsSo0VAJvYQMntHsdnudowVSoEN6WDehMIUldX5MU4v9y8JhFmFAynbEYWDug6cACc9xAaIvLe_4CSyf44o97se5WYqdighrwLF_H4g/s320/krupnik.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="background-color: #fbfbfb; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><b><span style="color: #783f04;">Krupnik Old Traditional Honey Liqueur, Poland</span></b></span></p><p id="E242" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E242" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: #fbfbfb; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 5pt 0px;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Krupnik">(LINK)</a> And now, something completely different! Justin throws a curveball with a traditional (and irresistible) Polish Honey and Herb liqueur. It adds some sweetness to the cocktail but goes further than that by plumping up the texture and mellowing out the tone of the drink.<br /><br />This is a brilliant addition to the Serpent and the Apple, and perhaps the ingredient that puts it over the top (although the combo of Apple Brandy and Pot-Still Jamaican Rum is still pure magic,) Basic simple syrup is pallid by comparison, just a sugar boost. The Krupnik provides some sugar but goes two steps further with the honey and herbs.<br /></p><p id="E242" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E242" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: #fbfbfb; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 5pt 0px;"><br /></p><p id="E242" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E242" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: #fbfbfb; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 5pt 0px;"><br /></p><p id="E242" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E242" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: #fbfbfb; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 5pt 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaPcqW-QxJlQRYCYkzxy66GZL9GZ4rmEFz6t9Y1QW_m_rZrAYA13DTzu-cGfCXKoNZGPan4a-WrcQDJD6JvyxbrZuw_fmS6_nSt6aeXKX99aER3xbO9_vIGUV89Fwt3oM-vRdfy8bd3kY/s2016/mancinovermouth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="767" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaPcqW-QxJlQRYCYkzxy66GZL9GZ4rmEFz6t9Y1QW_m_rZrAYA13DTzu-cGfCXKoNZGPan4a-WrcQDJD6JvyxbrZuw_fmS6_nSt6aeXKX99aER3xbO9_vIGUV89Fwt3oM-vRdfy8bd3kY/s320/mancinovermouth.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p id="E242" is="qowt-word-para" qowt-eid="E242" qowt-entry="undefined" qowt-lvl="undefined" style="background-color: #fbfbfb; font-family: Calibri, Carlito, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 5pt 0px;"><br /></p><div><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="ff-basic-gothic-web-pro !important" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E308" style="color: #783f04; display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Mancino Italian Vermouth</b></span></div><div><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="ff-basic-gothic-web-pro !important" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E308" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<a href="https://mancinovermouth.com/">(LINK) </a>In a remarkably few years, the U.S. progressed from an empty wasteland of vermouth to an unbelievable abundance. There are now so many vermouth brands and styles of vermouth, both domestic and imported, that it's hard to keep track of them. Justin selected the Mancino Vermouth for its lively freshness, mild sweetness, and lively aromatics.
In addition to the wine base, vermouth provides an array of botanical influences from herbs, seeds, flowers, and fruits harvested locally, and the barrel aging process adds that oxidative touch to add another nuance to the cocktail.</span></div><div><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="ff-basic-gothic-web-pro !important" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E308" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="ff-basic-gothic-web-pro !important" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E308" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="ff-basic-gothic-web-pro !important" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E308" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="ff-basic-gothic-web-pro !important" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E308" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="ff-basic-gothic-web-pro !important" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E308" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="ff-basic-gothic-web-pro !important" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E308" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="ff-basic-gothic-web-pro !important" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E308" style="color: #783f04; display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Angostura and Scrappy's Cardamom Cocktail Bitters</b></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYUTJLk2RWbIG7DxSuUMS-Dt4skW7DLrhG_TtES1j1-x4sOgAFWdgBQoLOKUPdIiQMcH3AiyppvJYTbGxwNyUHgF2ecT4eFND60IuZ-9J8bWDWoi1kFnfEugOiSujl85jO0MmT4aQEF-E/s700/scrappys-bitters-cardamom-bitters-5-oz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #783f04;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYUTJLk2RWbIG7DxSuUMS-Dt4skW7DLrhG_TtES1j1-x4sOgAFWdgBQoLOKUPdIiQMcH3AiyppvJYTbGxwNyUHgF2ecT4eFND60IuZ-9J8bWDWoi1kFnfEugOiSujl85jO0MmT4aQEF-E/s320/scrappys-bitters-cardamom-bitters-5-oz.jpg" /></b></span></a></div><br /><span class="qowt-font3-ffbasicgothicwebpro" face="ff-basic-gothic-web-pro !important" is="qowt-word-run" qowt-eid="E308" style="color: #15171a; display: inline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://scrappysbitters.com/">(LINK) </a>If the last few years of cocktail glory created a surge of vermouth, the accompany cocktail bitters category virtually exploded.
Bitters are no more than botanical ingredients steeped in neutral alcohol. But the glory is in the details. Originally bitters were intended for medical use because they were designed to aid in health and digestion. Angostura Bitters is a prime example of how ingredients can be used as a moderator to enhance a cocktail.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #15171a; white-space: pre-wrap;">But modern bitters can be made from many other ingredients now. Scrappy's Cocktail Bitters, an excellent artisanal brand from Seattle, does a citrusy blend heavily laced with cardamom leaves and seeds and adds a whole new dimension of </span><span style="color: #15171a; white-space: pre-wrap;">aroma and flavor. Justin decided to do a half-and-half blend of the Angostura and Cardamom Bitters so both the traditional style and the new, less bitter but more diverse aromatic style were included.</span></div><div><span style="color: #15171a; white-space: pre-wrap;">
Those are the ingredients. If you decide to tinker with the cocktail yourself, Justin advises mixing it up in a frozen mixing glass, so as to chill down the cocktail without diluting it with ice. Express a curl of lemon peel over the drink, drop it in, and voila, you have a superb cocktail designed bly a spiritual craftsman.
<br /></span></div>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-14908792714588670632020-09-30T10:19:00.000-07:002020-09-30T10:19:46.291-07:00My Own Personal Cocktail Hall of Fame: Kevin Ludwig's Ventura Highway<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD1IUj4nKz1LtXFcVLv52vqQlsTznHcahXb4eBOlWNHCqqSn3B9vIuk8IV7FEa22UzyyrV1ID-bcxVkgpmeTprW2snCo_KF7uNnHvJB1HCDjjzrgimaTccB_66Oqxb93BcVgb1otSIZtg/s2048/KL.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD1IUj4nKz1LtXFcVLv52vqQlsTznHcahXb4eBOlWNHCqqSn3B9vIuk8IV7FEa22UzyyrV1ID-bcxVkgpmeTprW2snCo_KF7uNnHvJB1HCDjjzrgimaTccB_66Oqxb93BcVgb1otSIZtg/s320/KL.JPG" /></a></div><p>Kevin Ludwig is a legend in the hospitality/restaurant/bar community of the Pacific Northwest. He helped build the cocktail culture in Portland; mentored, encouraged and elevated many of the best bartenders to professional success; and through this gained the admiration, respect and friendship of both peers and customers over his career.</p><p>Ludwig would more than likely shrug off such praise. but he deserves all the accolades, as a bartender, a manager, and an owner in the hospitality business.<br /><br />His primary achievement was, I believe, to elevate and integrate "the bar" and "the restaurant" into a conjoined entity, with one venue complementing the other seamlessly. More often than not the old idea of a bar in a restaurant was primarily a holding area, allowing customers to mill about (and not coincidentally spend money) while waiting for their tables. Manage the flow, make some extra revenue, and lubricate the customers a bit so they'll be more amenable and appreciative of their dining experience. Not a bad business model.<br /><br />But Ludwig and his partners imagined something better. By melding the bar and the restaurant together on almost equal terms, with the product and ambiance of the bar enhancing the entire evening of hospitality, rather than the usual ""Have a drink, and kill time until your table is ready.", the bar not only gained greater importance, it elevated the dining experience that much more. It became a sophisticated experience, not just a meal. </p><p>As Food Dude PDX wrote about Ludwig's popular bar/restaurant when it opened, <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Source Sans Pro", arial;">“Beaker & Flask is a surprise, currently the only bar in Portland where the quality of the food matches the thoughtful detail put into the cocktails.”</span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQu5rqaZ4dA-iBVyHc6AT3Fj4UJlW9Tf4T1OaJfAq2OlvkeP9R2oiuApyLigFj_i0XojrSEO8WShOuaU-hJ0Le_0suxe7INjfGB_v7IuNLODWzJgVKPwAB2XCMtSg7x2ry21VfKpzvlg8/s1024/IMG_0284.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQu5rqaZ4dA-iBVyHc6AT3Fj4UJlW9Tf4T1OaJfAq2OlvkeP9R2oiuApyLigFj_i0XojrSEO8WShOuaU-hJ0Le_0suxe7INjfGB_v7IuNLODWzJgVKPwAB2XCMtSg7x2ry21VfKpzvlg8/w400-h300/IMG_0284.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;">Beaker & Flask<br />Kenn Wilson, Creative Commons</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p>Another thing Ludwig was insistent upon? Music. He had an unerring ability to enhance the ambiance, perk up the chatter, and liven up the liveliness with his impeccable music choices. He wasn't locked into one genre or style or period; he loved good music of all types. It was part of his intuition, the final touch of setting the scene, creating the mood. The music never blared; it was always a part of the place and the night. One evening at his bar I was in my perfect place: a stunning cocktail, a susurration of happy chatter in the background, and Duke Ellington's band swinging away at precisely the right tempo and sound level.<br /><br />Consider Ludwig's successes: <br /><br />~<b><span style="color: #073763;">Clyde Common </span></b>in the Ace Hotel. If you were asked which was your favorite part of Clyde, the bar or the restaurant, you'd be hard-pressed to decide, wouldn't you? It's difficult to conceive of one without the other. It was a symbiotic situation.<br /><br /><b>~Park Kitchen.</b> Gone now, but it was remarkable in its time, and Ludwig was a big part of that, forging his legend of craft and hospitality. And doing it in an amazingly small space. The bar and kitchen in Park Place were equal in their outstanding quality and compatibility.<br /><br /><b><span style="color: #073763;">~Paley's Place. </span></b>Was there ever a place where the front, the bar and the kitchen were better integrated? The level of creativity and quality at all levels was undeniable. Chef Paley, the FOH (Paley's gracious and charming wife), the kitchen staff. the dessert team, and the bar program were all in total synch. <br /><br /><b><span style="color: #073763;">~Beaker & Flask.</span></b> Ludwig's magnum opus, crafted to his dreams and aspirations, combined that seamless bonding of bar/restaurant even more so than Clyde Common. Was it a bar with a restaurant attached, or a restaurant with a bigger than usual bar attached? The question was often asked, and the answer was always "Yes." As Food Dude PDX wrote when it opened, <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Source Sans Pro", arial;">“Beaker & Flask is a surprise, currently the only bar in Portland where the quality of the food matches the thoughtful detail put into the cocktails.” </span>Beaker also showcased an enviable crew of talented bartenders during its run, all wanting to work with Ludwig.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu9ePBNHwlBGX2QbSOynffBytccp0XNTeKLrLQ_Di1QeuhadsFiJSoUsIYFVNJvDbyg6gGII1HNx6p-G-PWQGEY1v12hKjsJeXW2LwZz4lpNBr44bG537hhNGCBN6jPfEqeHUS-rGuqC8/s1024/IMG_0285.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu9ePBNHwlBGX2QbSOynffBytccp0XNTeKLrLQ_Di1QeuhadsFiJSoUsIYFVNJvDbyg6gGII1HNx6p-G-PWQGEY1v12hKjsJeXW2LwZz4lpNBr44bG537hhNGCBN6jPfEqeHUS-rGuqC8/w400-h300/IMG_0285.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><b><span style="color: #073763;">~Laurelhurst Market. </span></b>This unique steakhouse restaurant was already humming along, and had been for a while. but when Chef Ben Bettinger, who had been Chef at Beaker and had worked with Ludwig at Paley's before that, took over the helm, he asked Ludwig to join him as bar manager. With most restaurants putting their bars close to the front, Laurelhurst was different: their bar was tucked at the far end of the main room, hidden behind a divider and initially invisible to new customers. It did not matter. With Ludwig there, the bar had no trouble populating the bar. He and Bettinger worked well together and the bar boosted the quality of the experience. It became a hangout.<br /><br />So what does this paragon of the restaurant/bar milieu do for cocktails, and what got him on the list here? Ludwig has to his credit any number of fantastic cocktails that could be cited, but the one that makes my list is a fairly simple, hugely satisfying and irresistibly delicious creation, the Ventura Highway.<br /><br /><i>Be careful though: there are several cocktails around the ethernet dubbed Ventura Highway. Some are great; some are odd; and some are best avoided. Ludwig's version is The One.</i><br /><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></p><p>This is what I wrote when I had the first Ventura Highway Kevin Ludwig made for me:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1beMxU2q39QOqoE1am_hZJ_DWlRLvqbUdbit_CXqMCwEYl2s8PWGqDyW7VjGWQenCoXw353jWkvJykHLSODbxdcqrFTGgomtIV-5tu1miaDeRVqANSziTzRwIjlu6pDCxyvoc8ytxI00/s469/Ventura+Highway.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="469" data-original-width="350" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1beMxU2q39QOqoE1am_hZJ_DWlRLvqbUdbit_CXqMCwEYl2s8PWGqDyW7VjGWQenCoXw353jWkvJykHLSODbxdcqrFTGgomtIV-5tu1miaDeRVqANSziTzRwIjlu6pDCxyvoc8ytxI00/w299-h400/Ventura+Highway.jpg" width="299" /></a></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: italic; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ventura Highway in the sunshine </span></div><span face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Where the days are longer </span></div></span><span face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">The nights are stronger than moonshine </span></div></span><span face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">You're gonna go, I know </span></div></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 18px; font-style: italic; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span><span face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">'Cause the free wind is blowin' through your hair </span></div></span><span face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">And the days surround your daylight there </span></div></span><span face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Seasons crying no despair </span></div></span><span face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Alligator lizards in the air, in the air</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div></span><span face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> America</span></div></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">There is a cocktail on the list at Beaker & Flask, that long curving bar with a great restaurant
wrapped around it on the East Side of Portland; it’s called Ventura Highway and it evokes the
Southern California sunshine about as well as you can imagine on a cool, cloudy day in Rose
City.
Ludwig's spirited evocation of Ventura Highway in a glass is a bracing combination of the
clean and snappy herbal and black pepper slap of El Jimador Blanco Tequila, the pungent
bitter-orange tang of Campari, fresh lime juice, Pinot Noir Grenadine, and a pinch of salt.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Perfect cocktails---those drinks that perk up the palate and stand out in the sense memory---
have the same attributes. First, there’s the balance of ingredients working together in harmony.
Second, there’s the quality of the cocktail that allows each ingredient to assert itself.
</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.5pt; white-space: pre;">
There’s nothing worse than a cocktail where the flavors are muddy and indistinct, where you
wonder what the spirit base is because you really can’t identify it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">There’s no doubt whatsoever this is tequila…and a bright, snappy, peppery Heartland-style
tequila at that. It shines through like a beacon. The Campari and the lime, one bitter and
offering botanical dimensions in another direction, the other sour and tingling, wrap themselves
around the el Jimador in comfortable support; the grenadine plays a sweet and tangy-fruity
counterpoint to all; and the pinch of salt brings the drink back around to its tequila base again.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Simple. Not too many components. Everything stands out, without obliterating the others.
Take away one component and it becomes something else entirely; it loses its integrity.
Kevin related when he was creating the cocktail that he almost had it finalized at one point,
but wasn't quite convinced. When he added that touch of salt, that hint of a Santa Barbara
sea breeze, that wind in your hair, he knew he had it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Calibri,sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">The Ventura Highway was one of several impressive cocktails at the Beaker & Flask. It tasted
like a revived classic of the golden era of cocktails. So mix up a Ventura Highway, whip up
some home-made chicharrones with hot sauce, and reminisce about how fine it was when you
sat at the graceful long curve of the bar at Beaker & Flask reminiscing about Southern California..
Just make sure you remember that touch of salt. It makes all the difference.
Ludwig? He's in a great place right now. His two best friends travel with him constantly, and
he finds himself in towering mountains and arid deserts, beside slow-moving rivers or
hypnotized by insistent ocean waves, sharing what he wishes of himself on social media in
a shorthand Kerouac-Steinbeck-Least Heat Moon tradition.
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0grOR_QPDsnJB7J7LeSyLj8LzpFzzfyGiKLjOFPAo7krHmx8PHcFbafGmLLLuPbbnb5MiGz40aHMR9ltOp3PbfGwkFaxOJ2JyNlYX6KziDkuRB0dangTIEEqKOE5RzlK-AdePmwvQ8xQ/s1521/KL2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1521" data-original-width="1521" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0grOR_QPDsnJB7J7LeSyLj8LzpFzzfyGiKLjOFPAo7krHmx8PHcFbafGmLLLuPbbnb5MiGz40aHMR9ltOp3PbfGwkFaxOJ2JyNlYX6KziDkuRB0dangTIEEqKOE5RzlK-AdePmwvQ8xQ/w640-h640/KL2.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;">Kevin Ludwig, by Kevin Ludwig</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />
</span></p><p><span id="docs-internal-guid-12e8ee7b-7fff-26f4-bb01-daa5ff05cd71"><br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /></p>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670838919517813712.post-21735252832895396672020-09-21T17:41:00.000-07:002020-09-21T17:41:53.777-07:00My Own Personal Cocktail Hall of Fame: The Distinguished Heir by Carlton Dunlap<p><br /></p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHu4HxRPDmoBZ1yrMIHaYSFu41HihYifCf97xGEnG2dz5wd0J97BL4AuhDxET0CtaysKIetxMxcHLDWkbw8cWfYEIsmLgfBGnOYLSmBeCHryvYI7eFclP2OH8NYOXogtaG3fzwUG_RWbQ/s400/Distinguished+Heir.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="300" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHu4HxRPDmoBZ1yrMIHaYSFu41HihYifCf97xGEnG2dz5wd0J97BL4AuhDxET0CtaysKIetxMxcHLDWkbw8cWfYEIsmLgfBGnOYLSmBeCHryvYI7eFclP2OH8NYOXogtaG3fzwUG_RWbQ/s320/Distinguished+Heir.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000;">The Distinguished Heir<br />by Carlton Dunlap</span></td></tr></tbody></table><i><br />Back in 2016, a terrible thing happened. No, not that. A great bar debuted in Portland, received the deserved accolade of 'Best New Bar', and became my happy place. Then the bar closed. No need to go into the post-mortem here. It was a brilliant conception and execution by Blair Reynolds, a very modern Italian take on a combination Espresso Bar by day, shifting to a cocktail bar in the evening, with an outstanding focus on aromatized wines and spirits---amari and vermouth---not seen before in Portland. But it didn't survive.</i><p></p><p><i>I miss the Americano still. It was gorgeous, had some of the most talented bartenders in the business, and not only did it feature some of my favorite selections (Hello, Cocchi Americano Rosa!), it consistently produced some of the most intriguing and satisfying cocktails in the city. <br /><br />One of those is on the list of My Own Personal Cocktail Hall of Fame: The Distinguished Heir by Carlton Dunlap. You may know Carlton from Elder Hall or Ned Ludd, where he has made countless cocktails and even more friends.</i></p><p><i>Allow me to reprise my initial gushing tribute to this cocktail by dredging up my post from 2016:</i></p><p><b><span style="color: #660000;">The Distinguished Heir,</span></b> devised by Carlton Dunlap at Americano, plays to three prevailing trends all at </p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTm7ZSZjkn-1KWqR-bUosx8MO568yCMLZy-h2xE2q9SmpiIW54chFjITdGxe7GuMnihahU5PS2pdNxcbtmWyyIsdL_5Vl-OXD01WeAqvBmJLevF4a294a1Um4DP9JZvhw_vWXSo5SilgQ/s379/carlton+dunlap+chefsfeed.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="379" data-original-width="379" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTm7ZSZjkn-1KWqR-bUosx8MO568yCMLZy-h2xE2q9SmpiIW54chFjITdGxe7GuMnihahU5PS2pdNxcbtmWyyIsdL_5Vl-OXD01WeAqvBmJLevF4a294a1Um4DP9JZvhw_vWXSo5SilgQ/s320/carlton+dunlap+chefsfeed.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000;">Carlton Dunlap</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>the same time, yet manages to be utterly distinct in conception and execution. Distinguished Heir is 1) low alcohol, 2) driven by aromatized wine, and oddly enough, 3) Pre-Prohibition in style.<p></p><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">What makes it even more fun? If you’re not a craft bartender or devoted cocktail geek, you may not have had any of the four major ingredients that comprise the cocktail.<o:p></o:p></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal">To make The Distinguished Heir, Dunlap melds some of the most extreme flavors you'll come across in the world of wine and spirits: Rousillon rancio sec, Pineau des Charentes, Byrrh Grand Quinquina, Dr. Adan Elmigirab’s Boker’s Bitters, and lemon oil. <o:p></o:p><br /><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Still with me? Let’s break those down.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixJFV3wy9MqUX-F4tmDffndjYH9QBUCkw46eW2ZEJsJ7F_V9k6MQaOL8WSzbhqF8KZtSjEFArfu6-I0nPhxNLPy7PZZmpCQXq1C9lStBV_M4jS-uTnD6nPOaMbZ_TcIbwkexu3U2ECtv4/s1600/Untitled-300x232.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixJFV3wy9MqUX-F4tmDffndjYH9QBUCkw46eW2ZEJsJ7F_V9k6MQaOL8WSzbhqF8KZtSjEFArfu6-I0nPhxNLPy7PZZmpCQXq1C9lStBV_M4jS-uTnD6nPOaMbZ_TcIbwkexu3U2ECtv4/s1600/Untitled-300x232.png" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption">R<span style="color: #660000;">ancio Sec IGP, Cote Catalan, Roussillon</span><br /><a href="http://www.winesofroussillon.com">www.winesofroussillon.com</a></td></tr></tbody></table><b><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24.5333px;"><span style="color: #660000;">Rancio Sec</span></span></b><br />Rancio Sec is little known, even in France, and made by only a few of the most traditional winemakers, primarily in the Roussillon/Cotes Catalan, that fascinating area adjoining Spain and sharing the coastal Catalan heritage. It is a diverse region, beginning at the Mediterranean but shelving quickly up into the red-dirt, iron-rich slopes and then into the craggy, precipitous valleys that lead to the Pyrenees.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Rancio Sec is considered by many the ultimate in concentrated wine; without fortification, the dry white wine is subjected to extreme conditions for long periods of time to reach a stage “when oxidation becomes nobility”.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #660000;">Some even say it goes beyond wine, to a place where mere wine cannot go, and inhabits a unique place in the sensory expression that began with grapes but became something else by dint of time and the elements, physics and chemistry. And I, for one, would add strange magic to that list; if only because when we come across something we can appreciate but not understand, we always call it magic.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>In Catalunya, rancio sec goes back to the most ancient form of winemaking, where the families take dry, non-fortified wine, often placed in glass demi-johns to sit in the sun, then transfer to only partially filled and usually very old oak barrels in a solera system, where it must remain for a minimum of 5 years. This intensified oxidation process, while it might seem cruel and unusual punishment to wine, generates incredibly pungent, concentrated, super-reduced and tightly contained aromas and flavors that were never there in the first place (hence my description of magic).<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Rancio Secs are now rare, in likely danger of extinction, usually made for and by the families that follow the old traditions, and rarely venture outside of the area, much less to the U.S. <a href="http://www.hausalpenz.com/">Haus Alpenz</a>, that strange and wonderfully quirky importer, makes the effort to bring in several.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">How to describe rancio sec? The ultimate orange wine may be the easiest way, but it doesn’t quite fit. A rugged, rustic, extra old fino Sherry? Not quite, no. There is nothing like the intense, reductio ad almost absurdum nature of this wondrous brew. Bitter walnut skins, dried mushrooms, vinegar (sherry, balsamic, fruit, you name it), echoes of tawny port and antique Madeira and muddy Malaga, cocoa powder, tobacco ---all of these and a myriad more.<br /><br /><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="color: #660000;">Each sip is like a voyage of discovery to flavors you never thought would be there.</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Now here’s the curious thing about rancio sec: the first time you try it, you almost certainly will not like it, simply because it may be outside your perception of what wine is supposed to be. Persevere. You will be rewarded.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24.5333px;"><span style="color: #660000;">Pineau des Charentes</span></span></b><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX4niEa9vRPsyeZRGIAlcBjDcs5I4QH611p3wgy-n75bVCt-bxFvFiydlhuS2bBToxkZiD4B2IQj-Rje8RZGi59TanZc_piDlYlGf_UyRJRLdU6RogjBO6_WIu1K33sgOj4MopuF3tjM0/s1600/PdC+normandin+mercier.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;">i</a>Pineau des Charentes is a delightful <i>vin de liqueur</i>, a local, rustic tradition in Cognac of using grape must from the fresh harvest to make an aperitif or digestif. The grape must is not fermented, or only partially so, and any fermentation is stopped by the addition of pure grape spirits. In Cognac, it’s called Pineau des Charentes. In Armagnac, it’s known as Floc de Gascogne. In the Jura, MacVin. There’s even an apple version in Normandy named Pommeau.<br /><br />Pineau des Charentes can be either white, red or rose'. For The Distinguished Heir, Carlton used Normandin-Mercier Rouge, a blend of merlot and cabernet sauvignon.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">These vins de liqueur are primarily consumed locally, but you can find them scattered around the U.S. They are usually served chilled, on the rocks, or in a spritzer, either before or after a meal, but craft bartenders have enthusiastically embraced them as a cocktail ingredient.<o:p></o:p><br /><br />Dunlap elected to use the <a href="http://www.wine-searcher.com/wine-202481-0000-j-normandin-mercier-pineau-des-charentes-blanc-france">Normandin-Mercier Pineau des Charentes Rouge </a>from the esteemed Cognac producer at Chateau de la Peraudiere, imported by <a href="http://www.heavenlyspirits.com/">Heavenly Spirits LLC</a>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1D8mkID27rgJBwuycB_GNv-9vYzIRPVXhyphenhyphen77qdZbHPF7tu_9QdEJEKj-DVsT1Oznwlw1cP7CPDblibWXkTd_-IJYxIlPlTiTF-xa7ur3-evOhqaQ8DVyJUPMxD3jHFxz0mMSMQqxhxEQ/s1600/20121002byrrh.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1D8mkID27rgJBwuycB_GNv-9vYzIRPVXhyphenhyphen77qdZbHPF7tu_9QdEJEKj-DVsT1Oznwlw1cP7CPDblibWXkTd_-IJYxIlPlTiTF-xa7ur3-evOhqaQ8DVyJUPMxD3jHFxz0mMSMQqxhxEQ/s320/20121002byrrh.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><a href="http://www.hausalpenz.com/"><span style="color: #660000;">Byrrh Grand Quinquina</span></a></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><br /><b><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24.5333px; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #660000;">Byrrh Grand Quinquina</span></span></b><br />There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br /><b>-<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Hamlet</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>(1.5.167-8), Hamlet to Horatio</b><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br /></b></div><div class="MsoNormal">And there are more beverages scattered around Europe than you’ve ever imagined too.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Byrrh Grand Quinquina is a famous version of quinquina (in Italian, chinato), based on wine mistelle aromatized with cinchona, the bark of a tree originally used to treat malaria and from whence comes quinine. The Byrrh is grand indeed, with pungently pervasive mouth-filling flavors followed by the bitter bracing medicinal snap of cinchona. This is an exercise in umami. It makes for a bracing aperitif and can be tempered with a bit of soda or a splash of prosecco.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #660000;"><b><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24.5333px; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Boker’s Bitters</span></b></span> <br />Boker’s is one of the classic Prohibition bitters designed by Johann Boker in 1828; long out of production</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBvKyg-Xwv7XFwz5Rnu3oSPNDChwydeSF3xjWQWhWKP-Vje2uhrHYhuINm4MHSn_E6SgxMnf8Gx_H7NQ3tW-ZZySY1vnBmAjgKpDTG-Au8djq5L2LG8o_pF_AbQSb8H0STBRWzPQG6QPM/s400/51iPwVFi2GL._AC_SY400_.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="213" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBvKyg-Xwv7XFwz5Rnu3oSPNDChwydeSF3xjWQWhWKP-Vje2uhrHYhuINm4MHSn_E6SgxMnf8Gx_H7NQ3tW-ZZySY1vnBmAjgKpDTG-Au8djq5L2LG8o_pF_AbQSb8H0STBRWzPQG6QPM/w106-h200/51iPwVFi2GL._AC_SY400_.jpg" width="106" /></a></div>it was rediscovered, reinvented and resurrected in 2009. A compelling blend of orange peel, <i>catechu</i> (It’s okay; I had to look it up too, and it is an astringent extract from the acacia tree), quassia bark (an extremely bitter tree bark, not cassia, which is the most common form of cinnamon), cardamom and mallow flowers. It is complex, deep and dark, on the bitter side of bitter, and has a persistent finish.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="background: white; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24.5333px;"><span style="color: #660000;">All Together Now…</span></span></b><span style="background: white;"><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span><span style="color: #3d3d3d;">Add all these amazing ingredients and mix in the lemon oil (a statement of flavor in and of itself), and magic happens. </span></span><br /><span style="background: white;"><span style="color: #3d3d3d;"><br /></span></span><span style="background: white;"><span style="color: #3d3d3d;"><span style="color: #660000;">As noted bon vivant and gourmand of extreme beverage (all beverage, really) Jake Parrott quips, “You’ve got all that stuff going on…oxidative aldehydes, citric and tartaric acids, glycerins, glutamates galore, funky old barrels. bitters, bitters on bitters, astringents, tannins, herbs, fruits, flowers, all in a super-concentrated, super-reduced form.”</span><span style="color: #3d3d3d;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br /><span style="background: white;"><span style="color: #3d3d3d;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #3d3d3d;">He’s right. It’s all there, in that one little shimmering glass. But that’s still not the whole story of The Distinguished Heir. It’s also about the magic of putting these amazing things together, just the right amount in just the right way, and creating something that wasn’t there before. The ingredients are in such absolute balance with each other as to create a perfect tension---and that’s the key to its glory, that marvelous tension, that nerviness that never allows one particular component to dominate, but never allows any to fade or disappear. This is a rare and precious example of alchemy. Thanks, Carlton.</span></div>Hoke Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16237562923949274059noreply@blogger.com0