Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Hope my Social Networking is better than my HTML

Was excited about the lineup of interesting, engaging stories and commentaries I was going to hammer through tonight and schedule them out for your consistent reading pleasure...

...really quick, though, I just wanted to get some HTML written to put some Twitter and Facebook links on the page in plain sight (to the right; aren't they pretty?). Yes, pretty-- pretty much a pain in the knickers. It took me 4 hours to get those stupid things up there. Yeah, my code-writing is wicked-damn rusty. It's certainly not my area of expertise. Biggest chore was figuring out where to upload the images. Poop! Yeah, I just said that.

I just hope my regular writing's better. Anyway, sorry to the 5 people who read regularly. I'll have all my stuff up by tomorrow night. In the meantime, I've been very active on Twitter. Check it out. That stupid thing is addictive.




Monday, June 15, 2009

Cut that umbilical cord!

This post is in response to this Wall Street Journal article posted by @kevinzraly on Twitter. Aren't on Twitter? Give in to the peer pressure and follow me here

Like an old, reliable baseball cap that you can always go to when your hair is just not styling the way you want (see right), all too often, I see white wine drinkers opt for the warm, familiar beanbag-chair-of-wines that is Chardonnay. One of the most widely planted varieties in the world (second only to Airén, a Spanish white grape), Chardonnay has also flourished in myriad climates, from the brutal heat and drought of Australia to the rather cool climate of Champagne, France. For its adaptability, there's no doubt why it became so popular in California; and it's Burgundian pedigree no doubt armed it with marketability-galore...like that kid back in high school who had little going for him but always got the Hypercolor t-shirts. Man, I wanted to hang out with that kid and his fancy-schmancy shirt.

Yeah, my mom made my clothes. I had homemade Jams. Wanna fight about it?! Just don't rip my clothes. It took mom a long time to make them.

The point I'm trying to make is that Chardonnay, of itself, is a pretty boring grape. It doesn't have a crazy flavor profile. Its acidity tanks in warm climates, creating what wine-nerds call a "flabby" wine, and what food nerds call a "terrible wine to go with food" (as acidity generally heightens the flavors of foods and cuts through richness. Ask an Italian. He'll break down the food/wine importance thing).

"But Joe," you say, "I'm not gonna take wine advice from a guy in homemade clothes. Anyway, I've had some AMAZING Chardonnays from Chablis, Mersault, and all them Montrachets in France." Indeed. This is true. Why? Because where Chardonnay really shines (aside from the fact that it will grow anywhere) is that is a blank canvas for a great winemaker to show his art (and enough with the clothes). Does the wine get aged in oak, creating vanilla and butterscotch flavors and aromas? Is it American oak or French oak? What forest did the French oak come from? Will the barrel be new or used? How much will the barrel be toasted? Will the winemaker encourage malolactic fermentation, which causes the tart, apply malic acid in the wine to change to silky, buttery lactic acid, creating a creamy mouthfeel? Will the winemaker employ batonnage, or stirring the lees to add more flavors?

Listen: you get the idea. And in the hands of a great winemaker, Chardonnay can be inspired and, uh, bitchin' (sorry, thought this post was getting too high-brow). But, as the WSJ article bolstered, too many wineries are taking bad grapes, manipulating them with so much oak to hide that bad flavor, and shipping them out to our unsuspecting gullets. And, all the while, tons of INCREDIBLE white wines are sitting on the shelf, like the totally hot nerdy girl in all those 80's movies who was one makeover away from Prom Queen, but the captain of the football team couldn't see it. You saw it, though. And you could've probably hooked that up, because she was a nerd, too. Bet she dug guys with unhealthy obsessions with viticulture and food science. ...and dinosaurs. Amazing dinosaurs.

When was the last time you had Sauvignon Blanc? Riesling? Pinot Gris? Gewurztraminer? Viognier? Torrontés? THESE ARE ALL WHITE GRAPES! There are a bunch more, too! Go try one. You might be surprised how good they are. And, if you're a creature of habit and unwilling to stray, at least give California a break and try something from Chablis, Mâcon-Villages (a great value), or splurge a little more and try something from Mersault for around $40.

Just get out there and try something new! You won't regret it. And even if you don't like it, what have you got to lose? Fifteen, twenty bucks? You could save some much more than that by having mom make your clothes.

Let me know about your adventures! Tell me what you tried and if you liked it!

Friday, June 12, 2009

Happy Friday!

Caught this crazy cat dancing to the "Dealertainers" at Imperial Palace in Las Vegas. How can this crazy-a$$ dancing not put you in a good mood?

Update on the latest batch of beer coming after this weekend. Also, a review of the "Scraped Knee" Wheat, since it's had some time to relax in the bottle.


Tuesday, June 9, 2009

...and we ended the night...

...after our trip in Luqillo with a bottle of this!

You can do way worse than a bottle of 2005 Duckhorn Cab. Really balanced. And sentimental!(first winery the wife and I visited on our honeymoon)

Best part: cost us $0. That's right. I robbed a wine store.

Okay, didn't rob a wine store. Got it as a leftover from an event. Gotta love the event planner wife!

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Deep Fried Paradise (Puerto Rico 2)

...the epic continues, like a slacker-Bourdain with a disorganized writing schedule...

Waddling out of Lechonera Los Pinos, the prospect of more food seemed unappealing (if not downright gluttonous), so we cruised up the road to Old San Juan, feeling confident our pale Irish complexions, flip flops, and "I [heart] Puerto Rico" airbrushed t-shirts would help us blend in with the locals.



View Larger Map

And so, we did all the things any self-respecting local would do: visited one of the forts, played some roulette at one of the casinos, and bought some souvenirs. My giant foam Uncle Sam hat with the Puerto Rican flag on it really sealed the deal-


-okay, we didn't have all that stuff; I have much more class, and wouldn't be caught dead in a novelty hat

Man, I hate you, me.

So, nothing huge from a culinary perspective in Old San Juan. Pizza Huts, Burger Kings, and Subways were on every corner it seemed, sadly. However, did get a decent pint of microbrew at the Old Harbor Brewery...not too shabby, and it had a great smell, just like my house after brewing a batch of beer. If you're in Old San Juan, I'd say check it out if you can resist the craptacular allure of Burger King.

From there, we moved on to the kioscas of Luquillo. Pretty much, the greatest thing ever (I seem to be throwing that phrase around loosely, huh?). Near the beach and right off the highway, the kioscas are what they sound like: kiosks. Basically, 60-70 concrete huts lined up against each other, some serving traditional street foods; others are more like bars, and others are sit-down restaurants. I thought they looked a little rough at first, but that's always been my first sign that good nosh is afoot.


The unimpressive-looking kioscas of Luquillo. As often, the "divey" appearance housed great food.

We started our quest here at kiosca #3, La Parilla. Quickly, I realized that some of these places were pretty nice. La Parilla had a really nice atmosphere, a big crowd of sit down diners, a pretty impressive wine list, and a great view of the Caribbean Sea. Best of all, the menu included the holy grail of Puerto Rican cuisine: MOFONGO. To this day, my dreams about a Frenchman shouting the Grand Cru of Burgundy at me while he chases me through vineyards (damn memorization) are interrupted by dreamscapes of me swimming through a cavernous Fort Knox of mofongo, a la Scrooge McDuck's money bin in DuckTales (tight science to those who picked up on that reference).

One of the nicest places, La Parilla. "La Parilla" is spanish for "The Parilla".

So, let me break down mofongo, if I can do it without going out to find some immediately. Basically, it's a dish of plantains, which are starchy cousins of bananas, often served green and without the sweetness of bananas. You've walked by them a million times at the Piggly Wiggly, I promise. Anyway, the locals- again depending on our glorious piggy pal- deep fry chunks of the plantain in pork fat. After that, they mash the fried bits with more pork fat and bits of cracklins. Then, it's stuffed or covered with seafood and topped with a sofrito-based sauce (peppers, garlic, cilantro, sometimes tomato). Absolutely unbelievable. I mean, if mofongo were a 1st round draft pick in an NFL-style food draft, it would be Matt Ryan.

For reference, hard-boiled eggs would be the "Ryan Leaf" of said draft, just in case I show up at your house one day and you want to know what to feed me. Make mofongo, not hard boiled eggs.

There it is: Mofongo con mariscos (seafood). This picture is hanging on my bathroom mirror...

With our bellies yet-again full, I figured we might as well go for our own jugulars, and continue to eat. Most of the kiosks served various fried treats: fried seafood, bacalaoitos (tasty cod fritters), fried plantains, fried fried, extra fried, fries fried in fried fryness. Listen, everything was fried. Occasionally, you'd find a guy selling coconuts. They'd just cut off the top, and you drink away. Very refreshing!


Drinking from a "coco frio", or cold coconut. With style, I might add.


Heather, tucking into a bacalaoito. Basically, a funnel cake made out of fish. Really good, though.

From there, we somehow managed to lurch our way back to the hotel. The next day, we continued our fitness routine by sitting around at the pool all day. The weather was beautiful, the food continued to live up to its billing on No Reservations, and I was sad to eventually leave (as was my cardiologist; he's gonna make a killing off of me at this rate). But, this little gem in the Caribbean is only a few hours away, and I really can't wait to get back.

If you've never been, and you're looking for a real deal of a tropical location that doesn't require a passport, put Puerto Rico into the mix. The food, the scenery, and the great hospitality of the people won't disappoint. And, they're totally not uptight:


Just too weird to leave off. There were stores like this all over the place!