Benito vs. the Farmers Market: Kudzu Jelly & Goat Cheese

Here's two local treasures that I picked up from the Downtown Farmers Market. While I still love the Farmers Market at the Agricenter, the one downtown has a lot more stuff and for those that don't like downtown, fear not: it's way on the south side, so you've got free parking and nobody's hitting you up for spare change.

First up, we have Kudzu Bloom Jelly from Mississippi. For those of y'all that live outside the South, kudzu is a vine native to Japan that was introduced to the Southeastern United States in the 50s to help control erosion. It did the exact opposite, and without any local predators, the stuff grows uncontrollably. I've heard of people doing useful things with kudzu, but until this past weekend, I'd never seen it with my own eyes. Hence my inability to pass up a jar of Kudzu Bloom Jelly.

I tried it on a toasted English muffin with a little butter. Good stuff, if a little hard to define. It's somewhere between apple and white grape jelly, though some compare the flavor to crabapples. It's tasty and has a lovely natural color to it. I'd love to surprise somebody with it, particularly if they've lived around here for a long time.

Next up we have goat cheese. I've probably consumed my own weight in goat cheese over the years, but this is the first local product I've tried. From Bonnie Blue Farm in Waynesboro, Tennessee comes this little tub of homemade goat cheese. And it's some great stuff. Creamy and tangy and not overly earthy. I spread some on baguette rounds along with some slices of my Yellow Pear tomatoes and homegrown oregano. I'm anxious to try some of their feta cheese the next time I'm downtown on a Saturday morning.

Early 4th of July Celebration (Continued)

I'm back to finish the story, and restore my good name after the White Zin post.

On the second night of the R family gathering, they took care of all the cooking. I had to be in Murfreesboro that afternoon for my own family get-together, which was a lot of fun. Plenty of pulled pork BBQ and great picnic fare. That evening it was back to the R family estate where we had barbecued salmon and grilled lamb, braised beets and homemade macaroni & cheese, a caprese salad, and some other things that I'm forgetting. Great food and great wines, but first...

One of the big highlights of the weekend was getting to meet--and take some portraits of--the newest addition to the R family. We're all looking forward to raising a glass with him in a couple of decades. Which means that I'll be 50 when he's of legal age. Whoa.

Mike fixed a round of Washington Apple cocktails. A Washington Apple is made up of Crown Royal, Apple Pucker, and cranberry juice, shaken and served over ice. To be fair, this is not the kind of thing I would have ordered in a bar. But I was amongst friends and it was available, so why not give it a try? The end result was oddly delicious: no one flavor stands out amongst the others; they all marry together to taste something like a candy apple but not as sweet.

On to the wines! I started off with the 2003 Georges Dubœuf Juliénas, and thus got to knock off another Cru Beaujolais from the list. Only three left to try. It was light and pleasant with cherry jam aromas and flavor. Good fruit structure, not too heavy or watery, elegant balance.

At some point I opened the Chateau Aux Arcs Zinfandel I'd brought along. Several people found it a pleasant surprise, and it improved well with several hours of breathing. I'm not saying every Arkansas wine is going to be a masterpiece, but that particular winery has some amazing potential.

Next up was the 1999 Jamison Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon. Couldn't find any online information here, but it was peppery and spicy with firm tannins that have held up for quite a while.

Time for another Bulgarian: the 2003 Uniqato Melnik, a full red version of the Melnik grape. And for some reason I can't get past that name: Melnik. It reminds me of Yiddish slurs like nudnik and schmendrik, or perhaps some MAD parody of wine. Anyway, the bottle produced medium tannins and an overall tone of black cherry, along with an earthy quality that made it a perfect match for the grilled lamb. At some point I'm going to have to go to Sofia and sample Bulgarian wines alongside the native cuisine.

MVP for the evening in my opinion: the 2001 Ridge Three Valleys. A Sonoma wine comprised of 50% Zinfandel, 15% Petite Sirah, 15% Carignane, 11% Maturo (Mourvedre), and 9% Grenache. Let's skip the elegant Bauhaus label design using the Optima typeface that has stood the test of time and move on to the flavor: blueberry with perfectly mellow tannins and hints of tartness. A real joy throughout the evening: my last sip was around midnight, after a cigar. One of the ladies present was kind enough to pour a quarter glass just so I could taste it one last time. If any wine has made me want to build a house with a dedicated wine cellar, this was it.

My notes stop there, and as near as I can recall no more wines were opened. Definitely the bottles of Port and Scotch were revisited on the second night of festivities. (Tom, I owe you a bottle of The Balvenie--that was some amazing whisky.)

I once again want to thank the R family for their gracious hospitality during that weekend. They ply me with good wine and food and conversation all weekend, and all I have to do is cook a meal. I look forward to next year. Dave might dig a pit and we'll roast a whole pig.

Intermission: 1993 Sutter Home White Zinfandel

While staying at the R house this weekend, Dave found a rare treasure hidden in the back of a liquor cabinet: the 1993 Sutter Home White Zinfandel. At its birth this was a sweet pink wine meant for quick consumption and no aging. So what happens when it's held at a stable temperature for 14 years and uncorked amongst a group of curious wine lovers?

As can be seen in the photo, the wine turned a shade of amber over time. (I made a zoomed inset for ease of reading the date.) I typically avoid White Zin these days, not out of elitism or snobbery but just because I don't care for the heavy sweetness. But this oddity passed the sniff test. It didn't smell like vinegar, it wasn't oxidized, and it wasn't corked. In short, it wasn't flawed and probably wasn't dangerous. The only thing left to do was try it out.

Over the lips and past the gums,
Look out stomach, here it comes.

The bouquet was somewhat like Madeira with a certain "cooked" profile. Surprisingly the sweetness had largely disappeared over the years and had been replaced with an interesting acidity. I'm not going to say that it was good, but it certainly wasn't terrible. I had about half a glass before pouring it out. Dave suggested that it would be great in a salad dressing, so when I got the opportunity, I slipped some into the vinagrette for the frisée aux lardons.

The best part about this particular tasting is the bragging rights. For the rest of the weekend there were many jokes along the lines of, "That was a great Bordeaux, but it's no '93 Sutter Home..."

Early 4th of July Celebration

Paul and I hit the road this past weekend to venture up to Middle Tennessee for a visit with the R family. Faithful readers may recall our visit last year (posts here and here). The standing rib roast was a big hit last year, and my presence was requested for a repeat performance. So I arrived at one in the afternoon, threw it in the oven, turned it up to 200° and didn't do anything to it for five hours. Though I did get a little busier with other dishes before dinner started... After sampling the 1996 Müller-Catoir Muskateller trocken, of course. Lemony acidity with a dominant aroma and flavor of green apples. Full bodied and great for afternoon sipping.

I wanted to start with a soup course based on the duck stock that I made and froze a couple of months ago. Many of my soups over the past years have been of the "cream of x" formula, generally a stock paired with a main vegetable and seasonings which was then blended with cream before serving. I felt like something lighter was in order.

Starting with the duck stock, I sautéed three sliced leeks and tossed them in the pot. Later I soaked two ounces of dried mushrooms (a combination of morels, lobster mushrooms, woodears, and several others). These were chopped and added to the soup with some of the steeping liquid. About a third of a bottle of wine (2000 Bott Geyl Alsace), a nice bouquet garni of leek leaves surrounding my homegrown thyme, rosemary, oregano, and lavender, and I let the whole thing simmer for about an hour. The result was rich, complex, and savory, but certainly light on the stomach. For the wine, the R brothers picked out the 2005 Uniqato Rosé, a Bulgarian wine made from the Melnik grape. Dave had grabbed this for me a year ago and it had taken a long journey into my glass. The Uniqato was nicely dry, medium fruit, and a smoky aftertaste. For my first introduction into Eastern European varieties, it was a delicious and mysterious bottle.

Next up was a little surprise: frisée aux lardons. This French salad is more of a lunch entree dish, but it made for an excellent second course. I started with spiky, peppery, slightly bitter frisée (or curly endive). Then I added some crisped up cubes of pork belly (blanched first to remove some salt). A dash of fresh vinaigrette, and topped with a poached egg and some cracked black pepper. The photo shows my staging area before serving, and I briefly explained how to eat the dish: pierce the yolk first so that it runs down through the greens and mixes with the vinaigrette. Some felt it was a little odd at first, but afterwards there were lots of perfectly cleaned plates and loving comments the next day. The R brothers picked out the 2002 Thomas Fogarty Gewürztraminer from Monterey, California. Apple and pear flavors, mellow and dry with a smooth finish. A really amazing combination with the salad.

The final course was the aforementioned ribeye roast. I brought out my demi-glace for topping the beef. For sides, I cooked up some crookneck squash and zucchini in the same unwashed skillet that had held the leeks and pork belly. Ann (mother of the R family and gracious hostess for the weekend) provided a crisp vinegar-based slaw of cabbage and green pepper. This provided a spicy kick to the beef that was even better than horseradish. The beef was even better than last year, and much late night snacking was had with the leftovers.

For the wines, the brothers descended once again into the family cellar and produced three bottles of exquisite quality. First up was the 1995 Bernardus Marinus Carmel Valley Red Wine, a California claret blend. This was one of my favorites of the weekend, though I thought it had much more Petite Verdot in it: lots of hearty blackberry and violet aromas, great classic claret profile and gracious aging. Next up was the 2001 Мавруд (Mavrud), made from the grape of the same name in Bulgaria. Want more information? The label also says Червено Вино and Златен Ритон. Вино means wine, but beyond that you can translate the rest on your own. I can read Cyrillic but don't know any Bulgarian. Regardless, this is an unusual and savory wine that is begging for some wild game, like boar or venison. Last we had the 1995 Chateau La Louvière, a great Bordeaux with firm aromas of green bell pepper, tomato leaves, and green tobacco. Smooth and deliciously aged. All three reds were decanted for a couple of hours before consumption.

For dessert, I'd left matters to the hosts... Ann made cream puffs filled with custard and topped with chocolate. Frozen custard from a nice mom & pop establishment was available, and after dinner the gentlemen retired to the back porch for Port (Rosemount Old Benson and Penfolds Grandfather), Scotch (The Balvenie 12 Year Doublewood and Glengoyne), as well as Romeo y Julieta Bully cigars. The final nightcap came in the form of Old Rasputin Russian Imperial Stout.

More details on the second night of festivities will follow... Stay tuned!

First Harvest

Here's a shot of my first harvest of the season, on June 21, 2007. That's a cayenne pepper and three Sun Gold tomatoes. I'm growing the cayennes in a pot, and I discovered that they're pretty hot. Maybe too little and hot for cooking purposes, so I'm either going to dry them and grind them up into powder or pickle them for future use. Of course, if you've got any sinus troubles eating a raw cayenne will definitely clear you out.

The Sun Golds are some of the cherry tomatoes I grew last year that sprouted up in the mystery garden. More updates will follow this week--lots of fruit on the vine!

Chateau Aux Arc

Chateaux Aux Arc in Altus, Arkansas is run by Audrey House, who started making wine at the age of 13 and founded a winery sometime in her early 20s. In a nation where a parent can be arrested for letting a teenage kid take a sip of beer at a party, this is a remarkable achievement. The name comes from the original French explorers' name for the region "Aux Arcs", meaning with curves or with hills. (Alas, I don't think there's a dirty reference in there in the vein of Les Grande Tetons.) Over time this got bastardized into Ozarks.

Work took me to Little Rock for two weeks, and I'd heard good things about the winery. Given the opportunity to try one I picked the 2004 American Petite Sirah ($15, only available in Arkansas). It's got a black cherry aroma, with medium tannins and a flavor that trends towards blackberry. It's honestly one of the better American red wines I've had that didn't come from the west coast, as well as being one of the smoothest Petite Sirahs that I've tried.

The following weekend, I got curious and decided to visit the winery and sample some of the other offerings. The winery is easy to find and is the first that you encounter on Highway 186 running south from I-40.

The tasting room is set mere yards from the vineyards. I strolled over to a patch of Cynthiana (also known as Norton). Took some photos, but obeyed the warnings about pesticides. Besides, it's too early in the season to be plundering grapes. Kudos to the hosts at the tasting room: the menu is presented with dry wines on one side and sweet wines on the other. Sweet wines are far more popular in this part of the country (and often made using Vitis labrusca native varietals or hybrids), but the host passed me the menu with the dry side showing. Good man. There's maybe 20 wines on offer for tasting, and I tried six wines that were full of surprises.

2005 Chateau Aux Arc Chardonnay. This unoaked Chard throws a lot of fruit, lots of peach and apples. Tart yet creamy, just a touch of toast. Full bodied but well balanced.

2003 Chateau Aux Arc Syrah. Black pepper and black cherry aromas, another creamy feel on the tongue. Medium tannins with a touch of tartness.

2004 Chateau Aux Arc Cabernet Sauvignon. An interesting Bordeaux-style blend that goes off the rails somewhat and includes Pinot Meunier and Syrah in addition to the standard Merlot and Petite Verdot. Spicy with a touch of bitterness, though somewhat closed. I'd love to try it again with some age on the bottle.

2005 Chateau Aux Arc Dragonfly. The wine that most appealed to my sense of adventure but was the only disappointment of the tasting. This wine is a blend of some 50 different grape varieties, most experimental hybrids made by House. Apparently any and all grapes were used in these pairings. It's impossible to pull out any individual grape characteristics from this wine. Off-putting aroma and a harsh flavor, but I'm still glad I tried it.

2004 Chateau Aux Arc Zinfandel. The wine I liked so much I picked up a bottle for $15. And to give you an idea of some of the truth-in-labeling used by this winery, the wine is actually 99.68% Zinfandel, with the remainder comprised of .12% Petite Sirah, .11% Carignane, .05% Syrah, .03% Alicante Bouschet, and .01% Grenache. It had a touch of mint on the nose with full blackberry flavors. Only 15% alcohol, though the 2005 is 17%.

2000 Chateau Aux Arc Champagne. This is a blanc de blancs made in the méthod champenoise, and with the next bottling they're going to drop the Champagne name in honor of the AOC regulations. Light on the aroma but with pleasant flavors of pear and apple, just a hint of banana. Even though the bottle had been opened the previous day (typically they only sample sparklers on Saturday), it was still crisp with good bubble structure. This would be an awesome brunch sparkling wine. Not many bottles are left from their one vintage, so either get one now or wait for next year's batch.

Afterwards I drove down into Altus. Literally down--it's a long trip down to the water, with lots of tight curves and blind corners. I had horrible visions of senior citizens blitzed on Muscadine wine charging down the hills in their RVs, ready to smash my meager rental car without so much as a how-do-you-do. This did not occur, but upon running the main drag of Altus (one block, or less than a dozen buildings), I moved back up the hill. I passed the Post Familie and Mount Bethel wineries. I felt a stop at Wiederkehr was obligatory, but on a Sunday afternoon the place was packed to the gills and I have some bad memories of their sweet jug wines from ten years ago. (This is not meant to criticize their current offerings; I'm just not a sweet wine person anymore. Nor sweets in general, which is why desserts are never featured on this blog.)

Besides these four, there is a fifth winery in Arkansas called Cowie in nearby Paris. For detailed information on the Arkansan wineries, I'd suggest this lovely profile of the Altus AVA by the good folks at Appellation America. At some point I'll return to the area and hit all five for a proper evaluation. For this trip, it was mostly fun to zip through the scenic countryside seeing rows and rows of neat grape vines. In this part of the country we're used to seeing cotton, rice, corn, and soybeans, so grapes are a fascinating change of pace.

Benito vs. the Produce Section: Radishes

Radishes are by no means unusual, but I can't remember eating one recently. We grew some during a brief period of my childhood when we had a vegetable garden (which also included corn and giant pumpkins). I know I've had some slivered radishes in salads over the years, and I'm sure that the little red globes have snuck into my dinner at some point, but at no time in the past twenty years can I recall ever intentionally consuming radishes or even wanting them. Time then for a personal challenge.

First, I decided to make a radish rose, since these days you're most likely to see radishes used as garnish. I then did what Mom taught me not to do and ate the pretty garnish. I figure it's allowed since I made it and frankly it wasn't decorating anything other than an empty plate. A raw radish is crisp, peppery, a little bitter, and oddly refreshing. If it wasn't so dense I'd consider it for use in a martini. There are other, more absurd, iterations on the radish garnish. If I buy radishes again, I can see mixing them with carrot sticks for snacking.

For my second radish dish, I'd read that the French enjoy thin sliced radishes on buttered bread. (Search for pain+radis+beurre if you want plenty of recettes en français.) I made a slight detour and lightly fried the radish slices in hot butter, and toasted the bread. The result: an open-faced fried radish sandwich. It wasn't bad, but not the kind of thing I will see myself eating on a regular basis. The frying killed all of the heat of the radishes, but the overall experience was depressing. I wasn't starving, but that was my dinner that night. A radish sandwich. I stood there in the kitchen eating the cursed thing, while staring longingly at my herbs and knowing that there was better food in the fridge and freezer.

At this point I became discouraged with the radish challenge and turned the rest into the compost heap. Any help out there from my readers? Suggestions on all of the great underappreciated uses for radishes that I've missed out on?

2005 Hahn Estates Cabernet Franc

A while back I tried the Hahn Meritage, so whne I saw the 2005 Hahn Estates Cabernet Franc at the wine shop I jumped at the chance. 95% Cabernet Franc, 5% Cabernet Sauvignon. Santa Lucia Highlands, California, $12. Blackberry, nutmeg, just a touch of Concord grape sweetness and plum flavors on the end. Surprisingly smooth and pleasant for a young Cabernet Franc, with few of the herbal notes that normally find. An excellent wine all around, yet not at all what I imagined.

An additional note: this wine just keeps getting better. I decanted it an hour before serving, and here three hours later it's even smoother and more fruit is coming out in the flavor.

Blog Challenge

Two weekends ago I got to meet the fine folks from Edible Therapy
and Squirrel Squad Squeeks. Papa Squirrel decided to tag me for one of those little blog challenges that go around the web now and then. I'll happily answer the tag, but I'll pass on forwarding it along.

The challenge: seven random facts about yourself. Here goes...

• The only piece of original art I have hanging in my house is shown at right. Untitled by Vicki Loines, ca. 1999, 18"x24". Chalk on some sort of textured black artboard. I used to work with Vicki, and she gave it to me as a gift. Ever since, it has terrified guests. Despite the dark theme, she was was one of the happiest and friendliest people I've ever known, and it actually cheers me up.
  
• My first experience with food-based gardening was picking strawberries at my grandparents' house in Nashville back when I was six. Needless to say, I had strawberry juice running down my chin the whole time.
  
• I'm fond of photography, but primarily of non-human subjects. Reference the photo at right of a honeybee perched on a clover blossom. Granted, I had to pop him in the fridge to calm him down before the shoot, but he was released unharmed into my backyard.
  
• I've been to 29 states in the US and to Europe twice, but I've never been to New York or Los Angeles. I'll get around to them eventually.
  
• I also love astronomy, and have my own little reflecting telescope. The attached image wasn't taken through the scope, but rather using my beloved Fujifilm S5000 digital camera. This picture of the moon was taken on January 27, 2004.
  
• I'm a certified operator of the HP Indigo 5000 digital press, even though I haven't touched one in quite a while.
  
• At the age of 8, I sat on Santa's lap for the last time when I froze up and asked for a smoke detector because it seemed like a sensible request. At the age of 17, I wore a Santa suit for the first time as part of a charity function at a nursing home. I've worn it a few times since.
  

2005 Tienen Duende Verdejo

While in Albuquerque, I got to purchase a bottle of wine in a grocery store for the first time in the U.S. (no problem in Europe). It was a strange experience: to be treated like a responsible adult and not forced to shuffle over to an approved shop during approved hours. I only wish I'd had a kitchen avaialable so I could get the ingredients for dinner and a matching bottle of wine within the same four walls.

Looking for something fun and refreshing, I picked up a bottle of the 2005 Tienen Duende Verdejo from Castilla y León, Spain, for $6. (No information found online, which is often the case with small run Spanish wines.) A clean aroma, with well-rounded body. Some peach and apricot, low acidity but not flat. Dry but with good fruit. All in all a good bargain and easy afternoon sipper. I found it a great match for a cherry empanada picked up from a local bakery.

Benito vs. the Decapod: Jonah Crab Claws

I was a bit mistaken by what I saw on sale at the seafood counter. Stone crab claws are an expensive delicacy from Florida and Texas waters, and I've never seen them here in Memphis. The stone crabs are so rare that in order to protect the species you can only harvest a single claw and then return them to the briny deep where the tasty crustaceans will regenerate a new claw. Now, what I purchased at the low price of $5/lb. were not mislabeled: I had just never seen a heap of Jonah crab claws, which come from a much more abundant (yet less flavorful) North Atlantic crab. To understand my confusion, you can check out this helpful page. Note the fourth photo from the top and the last photo. Easy mistake, eh? The claws tasted fine, though it was a bit tricky to extract all of the meat. Paul and Grace joined The Roommate and me for this basic Sunday lunch.

The wine selected for the meal was yet another pick from The Australian Premium Wine Collection: the 2006 Elderton Unwooded Chardonnay from the Barossa Valley. I've previously tried the 2003 and the 2005, each of which were a bit off balance. However, I was happy with this one: good citrus flavors with a hint of peach on the nose, medium acidity and a smooth finish. The non-oaked Chardonnays are a fun alternative to the heavily oaked California Chards, and it's been interesting to see some of the names used for marketing this lack of oak: unwooded, naked, virgin.

The true star of the meal turned out to be the stuffed eight ball zucchini from the Agricenter Farmers Market. I hollowed them out and filled them with sautéed young onions (again from the Farmers Market), canned tomatoes, homegrown thyme, and topped with shredded Romano cheese. Bake at 350° for 45 minutes or so and serve. Add in some fresh roasted sweet corn, and we've got a simple yet delicious lunch.

With the abundance of fresh vegetables available locally as well as the sheer masses of tomatoes I'll have, it's tempting to go vegetarian for the summer.

2000 Georges Dubœuf Moulin à Vent Prestige

Eric Asimov recently wrote about tasting a 192 Moulin à Vent. I was surprised to see this, as I had just come back from the wine shop with a dusty old bottle of the 2000 Georges Dubœuf Moulin à Vent Prestige. I picked it up on a whim for $12, but apparently Robert Parker scored it in the 90-95 range and it's ready to drink now.

Let's talk again about cru Beaujolais. [Edited for clarification -- thanks Fredric] Beaujolais Nouveau is made in the Beaujolais region south of Burgundy from Gamay grapes. It's a special process designed to make a quick, fruity wine that won't last for a long time. Beaujolais-Villages and the crus are made in the same region and from the same grapes, but using traditional winemaking processes and thus they have more structure and aging potential than the Nouveau. The crus fall into my favorite category of wine: a delicious regional favorite that allows for its own enthusiastic and scholarly appreciation but doesn't cost a lot. There are ten crus within the Beaujolais appellation. With this bottle, I've so far tried Brouilly, Fleurie, Morgon, Moulin à Vent, Régnié, and Saint Amour. I still need to try Chénas, Chiroubles, Côte-de-Brouilly, and Juliénas.

The wine still carried bright red cherry flavors. The tannins had entirely dissipated, though the wine had begun to turn a shade of brick red. I tasted it fresh out of the bottle, then after one hour of decanting, and finally after three hours of decanting. One hour was about perfect for this wine; afterwards the fruit began to fade out and the end result was somewhat watery. Still, for the price, not a bad bottle and I was glad to check it off the list.

Benito vs. the Produce Section: 白菜

Before anyone gets excited, I've eaten bok choy before, and even considered planting some toy choi because of the easy portion size. It's not that exotic of an ingredient, even here in Memphis. But while roaming through the produce section, I realized that I'd never cooked with it.

On the same grocery store trip, I came across a few pounds of beef spare ribs on sale. Perfect. That evening, I assembled a dinner that was part Chinese, part Italian, and all delicious.

A diced shallot and a few garlic cloves went into some melted butter in the venerable enameled cast iron Dutch oven. Then I separated the ribs using my beloved hand-crafted, carbon steel butcher knife. Ribs went in the pot, along with a can of whole tomatoes, a big can of beer, a few sprigs of thyme, and I let it all simmer for a couple of hours. I didn't incorporate the bok choy until the end. I chopped up the greens and set them aside, and then cut the white stalks into edible chunks. The white portion went into the pot for 20 minutes, followed by the greens for five. Threw together a little salad to go with it. (It's spring, I'm craving green things.)

For garnish on the ribs, I tried a little Thomas Keller trick and sliced a shallot into thin rings. These were dusted in flour and fried in canola oil until brown and crispy. It's sort of a cross between the fried onion topping famous on Thanksgiving casseroles and a batch of homemade onion rings. Great flavor, yet light and delicate. Damned easy to make, too, and it doesn't require a lot of oil. (You'll probably have to click on the photo in order to see them.)

In the grand frugal tradition of using every part of the buffalo, there was little waste from this meal. The leftovers were packaged up for lunch tomorrow; the scraps of the veggies went into the compost pile, and the succulent bones were given to the dogs.

Benito vs. the Farmers Market: Rattlesnake Green Beans

There are two Farmers Markets here in Memphis: the Memphis Farmers Market is downtown, open on Saturdays, and has all locally produced vegetables. The other is located at the Agricenter out in Cordova, is open Tuesday-Saturday during the productive months, and does import some of its offerings from other states. Each has its pluses and minuses, but for convenience I hit the Agricenter once a week and the downtown one once a month. Saturday at the Agricenter I was lucky enough to stumble upon some Rattlesnake Green Beans. You can eat them young and tender like regular green beans, or let them grow and you eventually get something that looks like pinto beans inside the pods. Unfortunately, the attractive purple stripes and speckles disappear with cooking.

I also got to purchase my first sweet corn of the season with a few ears of Silver Queen. Ah, the joys of eating produce in season. I had a few friends over for a little Memorial Day weekend cookout, since I'd managed to find some great ribeyes for practically nothing. A nice big fire of natural lump charcoal started in a chimney, some good meat and fresh vegetables... it just doesn't get much better than that. And I don't mean to brag, but the steak in the picture is probably the best ribeye I've ever grilled. I almost completely ignored my dining companions during lunch. The corn was soaked in water, cooked in husk until ready, and then topped with chile-lime butter. Not pictured: some homemade pecan tarts purchased from a nice old lady at the Farmers Market. I'm not a big dessert person, but these were delicious.

The wine for this spring meal was the 2004 Columbia Crest Grand Estates Merlot, from the Columbia Valley of Washington. Blackberry flavors with a tart edge and a tannic finish. The touch of sweet, full fruit flavor helped go along with the sweetness in the corn and beans. This wine runs around $12, but if you can find it, try the 2003 edition. It costs the same, but the tannins have mellowed out and the blackberry flavor is even more incredible. Got a chance to try that one last week and I'll probably grab another bottle soon.

2006 Sebeka "Cape Blend" Shiraz Pinotage

2006 Sebeka "Cape Blend" Shiraz Pinotage. Western Cape, South Africa. 60% Shiraz, 40% Pinotage. Imported by Gallo, and here's a little extra info. Lovely marketing, decent enough plonk for some roast beef and mashed potatoes. Good cherry and raspberry notes, medium tannins, just a touch of the ashy Pinotage character.

A few days later, I tried the 2006 Sebeka Sauvignon Blanc. Closer in flavor to California than New Zealand. There is a bright fruit character dominated by apricot and a bitter aftertaste of orange pith (which sounds odd but I loved it). Dry, but full bodied, medium tartness. I had it with a simple dinner of penne pasta, peas, and a light cream sauce.

May 19 Tomato Update

The main tomato plants are doing well--they're up to around 18" high. But I had a few early surprises in other parts of the garden.

The cayenne pepper plant I placed in a pot has had lovely little white flowers for the past week, and I found a few that had taken hold and begun to produce peppers. It may be difficult to see in this photo--look to the center left, and you'll see a tiny green pepper that's less than a quarter inch in length. Overall there are some fifty blossoms on the small plant, so I should have an ample supply of fiery cayennes all summer long.

(Between the tiny pepper and the tiny tomato, I'm tempted to harvest some cilantro when it's just poking up out of the soil in order to create the world's first microsalsa, and thus initiate an annoying new culinary trend.)

One of my "volunteer" tomato plants that sprung up in the old tomato patch showed blossoms last week, and this week I noticed that some of them had actually set fruit. Here, officially, is what will probably be my first tomato of the season. Based on the leaves and the shape, I think it's one of the Yellow Pears from last year. Who knows? It might be some bizarre hybrid or new variety.

I'm amazed at the resiliency of these mystery plants. The fruit dropped off the vines last year and lay buried in the ground over the winter. For months I dropped vegetable peels and rotten oranges and all of my non-meat/non-dairy kitchen waste in the patch, as well as the last remnants of the composted grass clippings. I churned up the soil in the spring, and after deciding to build the new patch, basically ignored it. Lo and behold, tomatoes and potatoes have sprouted, and I can't wait to see what else pops up. This area gets hardly any sun at this time of year, yet the plants are flourishing and will probably produce a great crop.

One of the first Latin quotes I ever learned was from Horace: Naturam expellas furca, tamen usque recurret. Though you drive nature out with a pitchfork, she will always return. This actually refers to people's inborn character and that no one can really change, but I've always appreciated it for its on-the-face application to gardening. At 12 I angrily mumbled it when I had to weed the flower beds, but now I'm able to say it in a positive way.

2005 Domaine des Buyats Régnié

2005 Domaine des Buyats Régnié, part of the newest appellation in Beaujolais. Here's an easy goal: try one sample of each Beaujolais subregion. Thus far I've had about half of them. The great part is that these are all quite affordable, easy drinking, and not terribly difficult to find. Beaujolais Nouveau is one of the most popular wines in this country when it's available, but lots of more serious wine drinkers overlook the joys of the grape and region.

This Régnié had lots of cherry, drying tannins yet it doesn't taste overly tannic. Not my favorite cru, but it would be fun to try again in a few years.

On a related note, here's the 2005 Morgon from the same negociant, which was similar but much smoother. If you have to choose between the two, I'd definitely suggest the Morgon.

Gruet Winery

Business took me to New Mexico for two weeks. I'd been there four times over the course of my youth, and have fond memories of the state. Warm dry days, cool nights, much preferable to the steamy climate of Memphis. Oddly, this happens to be ideal for the growing of grapes for sparkling wine.

The Gruet Winery in Albuquerque, New Mexico was founded by French winemakers from the Champagne region. They make excellent sparkling wines in the traditional méthode champenoise, as well as a few still wines. Chardonnay and Pinot Noir are the primary grapes at the vineyards (Pinot Meunier is not grown; the owners feel that it doesn't contribute much to the sparklers). Recent experiments with Syrah for still wine have been highly successful, so much so that I didn't get a chance to try it either at the winery or at the restaurant.

Speaking of the restaurant, before I left the state I had dinner at the Gruet Steakhouse, located in Downtown Albuquerque. Over a glass of the 2005 Pinot Noir (much bolder and with stronger fruit than the 2004 Reserve below), I had the mixed grill: a duck breast with a cherry reduction, a portion of filet mignon with béarnaise sauce, and a perfectly cooked lamb chop with a chili-mustard seed sauce. A dish of creamed spinach and an orzo stuffed baked tomato rounded out the delicious meal.

I stopped by on a Saturday afternoon for a tasting and a tour of the facility. Thanks to Donald and to the young lady pouring samples for a warm and friendly reception at the winery. The tour and tasting are highly recommended. I got to see every phase of production for sparkling wines, and even got to stick my nose into a couple of barrels of still red wine. And I learned a great new Scrabble word. A gyropallet is a device that holds 504 standard wine bottles and over the course of eight days slowly turns the bottles and moves all of the yeast to the neck. This replaces the labor-intensive method of riddling the bottles, even though a good riddler could turn 30,000 bottles a day.

Note: while the wine is made and aged at the Albuquerque location, the grapes are grown further south in New Mexico.

The basic tasting is $6 and includes a regular wine glass; the $14 vintage tasting provides access to the higher end selections and comes with a lovely Riedel Champagne glass featuring the Gruet logo.

All wine information can be found on the Gruet website. I've seen some of the Gruet products available at Great Wines in Memphis. Other wine shops should be able to special order it if you ask nicely.

NV Blanc de Noirs. 75% Pinot Noir, 25% Chardonnay. $13.50. Lemony acidity, crisp and clean, with a touch of raspberries on the finish. Dry and well balanced. I liked this one enough to take a bottle back to the hotel for matching with some spicy Southwestern fare later on. Green chile and a cold crisp sparkler are a fantastic match.

2002 Blanc de Blancs. 100% Chardonnay. $24. Four years aging on yeast. Lighter nose, touch of vanilla, crisper and more tart than the Blanc de Noirs. Tangy finish.

2002 Grand Rosé. 92% Chardonnay, 8% Pinot Noir. $32. A touch of strawberry, a little bit of cream. Not as tart as the previous wines, smoother and well balanced. Faint hint of tannins. Really nice.

2000 Grand Reserve. 100% Chardonnay. $46. Aged in French oak and then on yeast for six years. Wow. Nice, lightly toasted aroma. Touch of tart acidity. Lovely long finish. Elegant.

2004 Pinot Noir Barrel Select. 100% Pinot Noir. $46. For some reason I was expecting a big, bold Pinot Noir, but instead I was greeted with a light and delicious wine that was more Burgundy than California. Wild strawberry aromas and flavors dominate. Smooth with excellent balance. Wonderful.

2000 Covey Run Barrel Select Syrah

First off, a warm hello to any readers from Wolfchase Wine & Spirits. Apparently some of you have been taking my suggestions and mentioning this blog at the store. It's a great little shop, and even though it's beside the Costco in Cordova you don't have to be a Costco member to buy wine there. It's a small space with a frequently rotating and varied selection of wines. John the manager is friendly and knowledgeable about his stock, and I'm always happy to drop in

Today for instance, he suggested the 2000 Covey Run Barrel Select Syrah from the Yakima and Columbia Valleys of Washington State. $10. Great plum and leather aromas, and a mild fruit flavor with tannins that have almost completely aged away for a smooth mouth feel. If you've only tried young, fruit-bomb Syrah/Shiraz, this would be a great opportunity to taste one that has aged gracefully. I served it with a steak and a spinach salad, followed by a glass out on the back porch to gaze over the tomatoes.

Tomato Garden 2007

For the past two weeks, I've been in Albuquerque on business (hence the brief posts, which I wrote months ago but didn't get around to publishing). Later this week I'll write about the southwestern cuisine I sampled as well as my fun visit to the Gruet Winery, maker of fine sparkling wine.

While I was gone, my tomato plants arrived. The Roommate was kind enough to keep them green and alive for me, and I spent the better part of Saturday getting them planted. First, I grabbed a shovel and dug a trench 12 feet long by 1.5 feet wide by one foot deep, which comes out to eighteen cubic feet of dirt removed.

I filled the trench with a combination of compost, manure, bedding soil, and some of the dirt I had previously removed. I mixed everything as best I could, surrounded the trench with bricks, and measured off the planting spots. I planted them deep--all the way to the first set of leaves (this helps get them started faster, as the stem will quickly sprout roots and help draw more water). Finally, a few stakes and some twine, and I had a makeshift trellis.

In the photo, you can see the completed garden right off the porch, along with one stake that broke as I was driving it in. From lower left to upper right, the tomatoes are as follows: Big Rainbow, Little Mama, Supersteak, Black Krim, Golden Mama, Brandywine, Napa Grape, and the gigantic Porterhouse Beefsteak, which can get up to four pounds per tomato. I didn't grow any of these types last year (though I did have a Brandywine hybrid). I'll have to wait until the middle of July before I have any tomatoes, but I'm really looking forward to tasting these beautiful and unusual varieties.

Additionally, there's the tomato patch I planted last year, up beside the house. I pulled out all the roots and churned up the soil at the end of the season, and have used the patch as a compost pile all fall and winter. Various vegetables have sprouted since then, and I'm now happy to report that a few of the tomato seeds from fallen fruit managed to survive the winter and have sprouted into foot-tall plants. Also I have fingerling potatoes growing, as well as some other things that I'm pretty sure aren't weeds. I will find out later what they are and look forward to the surprise.

2005 Viña Alarba Old Vines Grenache

2005 Viña Alarba Old Vines Grenache, Calatayud, Spain. Around $8. Cherry aromas and flavors, with some medium tannins and the faint hint of cinnamon. A great everyday red which I served with a Greek pizza.

2001 Guenoc Victorian Claret

2001 Guenoc Victorian Claret, North Coast, California. No direct blend information, but other vintages show a mostly Bordeaux/classic Claret mix. This was part of a set of leftover cases that a distributor was unloading; a six-year old wine with some great structure for $10.

Plum aromas and flavors, full fruit beginning with a milder middle and tannic finish. Some notes of rose petals and a little leather.

Dogfish Head 120 Minute IPA

Every connoisseur has a couple of items that he or she is always striving towards. For instance, one of these days I'll have a Kobe beef ribeye. But this past weekend, I got to check a different one off the list.

I've written in the past about the amazing spirit behind the Dogfish Head brewery in Delaware. I've had the 60 minute and 90 minute IPAs, but I finally found a bottle of the Dogfish Head 120 Minute Imperial India Pale Ale. $10 for a 12 oz. bottle, and what does that time mean? From the website:

Brewed to a colossal 45-degree plato, boiled for a full 2 hours while being continuously hopped with high-alpha American hops, then dry-hopped daily in the fermenter for a month & aged for nother month on whole-leaf hops!!! Our 120 Minute I.P.A. is by far the biggest I.P.A. ever brewed! At 20% abv and 120 ibus you can see why we call this beer THE HOLY GRAIL for hopheads!

For comparison, a bottle of Coors Light is around 3-4% alcohol by volume, and rates only 8-12 International Bitterness Units. Approach this like a Port or brandy. Most American lagers tend to barely flavor with hops, but this is an opportunity to fully appreciate the unique and complex flavors of the hops. In fact, the fuzzy image on the very understated label is an illustration of hops. Also note the tag line "AGES WELL". While other breweries are urging you to drink their products as soon as possible, this is the kind of beer that can sit in the cellar for ten years or so, and improve over time.

It's definitely a strong, after-dinner beer, and I split the bottle with another person. It's slightly sweet, with a flavor between orange marmelade and sorghum. Think citric and bitter but smooth at the same time. The flavor is long lasting and you'll find yourself licking your lips to get every last drop of the golden barley goodness.

2004 Col Sandago Prosecco

2004 Col Sandago Prosecco from the Veneto region of Italy. $15. Perfect with king crab legs, as the lemony crispness helped cut through the rich meat and savory clarified butter. Just a hint of pear and ginger on the finish.

For those who haven't discovered the joys of Prosecco, go out and buy one now. A lot of people get nervous about sparkling wines, thinking they're only for special occasions or for foods like caviar. But Proseccos are a great bargain and go well with all sorts of casual, fun foods. And though I've had some bad generic sparklers from California, I've never had a bad Prosecco. Want a better match than crab legs? How about fried calamari and a nice antipasto platter.

2005 Becker Vineyards "Iconoclast" Cabernet Sauvignon

I spent last week in Dallas on a business trip. I didn't have much time to spend looking around the city, but I did hike three miles north of the hotel to purchase a bottle of Texas wine. And on the way home to Memphis, my luggage took a detour to Orlando. Despite all of that, the 2005 Becker Vineyards "Iconoclast" Cabernet Sauvignon held up quite well and I was able to enjoy it with dinner Sunday night.

For $10, this was a great little wine. Full fruit flavors, strong blueberries and black grape on the palate. Surprisingly light tannins, medium dry, and decent spice on the finish. For the meal, I cut apart a 1½lb Porterhouse into three portions: the filet, and then two equal pieces of the strip, each roughly ½lb. I used the method laid out in the latest issue of Cook's Illustrated. Basically, you cut thick steaks into half pound portions, tie into rounds, roast at 275°F until around 100°F internal temperature, then finish them off in a hot stainless steel skillet. The method is sound, but good marinating beforehand and heavy seasoning is recommended to provide the desired saltiness.

The recipe suggests a finishing sauce; I've tried this twice and haven't done the sauce, but I did use some butter blended with fresh sage from my garden to top the finished steaks. I've almost taken to carrying a sage leaf around with me just to sniff it every now and then.

2004 Bohemian Highway Merlot

Another entry in the bargain wine category: the 2004 Bohemian Highway Merlot. $6, St. Helena, California. Lots of cherry, jammy, a little tart and tannic. Nothing terribly great or bad here, just an everyday wine. Looks like it's made in California for the Australian Foster's Group, a conglomerate that covers wine, beer, and spirits. I point out these large corporate connections on this blog not out of any personal feelings one way or the other, but rather out of my own curiosity about various business relationships.

When it comes to domestic wine, I tend not to care as much about conglomerates but rather individual styles. When it comes to foreign wines, I'll follow my own curiosity but in a pinch it's always nice to follow an importer like Dan Philips or Kermit Lynch.

I realize I should have served this with some bean sprouts and wheat germ paste, or other hippie fare, but if memory serves correct, I tossed back a glass of this with a burger after work.

2002 Jewel Petite Sirah

I love Petite Sirah, and while it's starting to be taken more seriously, it's still possible to get decent bargain bottles. For instance, the 2002 Jewel Petite Sirah, Lodi, California. $6. Dark and jammy, low tannins, blueberry, plums, and leather. Has held up remarkably well for an inexpensive wine.

I served it with a lamb and beef chili (a pound of each, diced shoulder and chuck respectively). Purists eschew the use of beans in chili, but I soaked a half pound of red kidney beans overnight and added them part of the way through cooking. Most important addition: a can of my new favorite ingredient, Muir Glen Fire Roasted Tomatoes.

Otherwise there was nothing particularly special about this batch of chili, but it was great for a rainy day. I finished it off with some Jamaican Pickapeppa sauce, which is nice and tangy with just a little heat. I've seen it described as Jamaican ketchup, but it reminds me of A-1 Steak Sauce with a nicer flavor and sharper bite. I find myself putting a dab on a finger every now and then just to taste it. Too bad it's not available locally in bigger bottles!

Benito vs. the Buffalo

Buffalo is a term of some culinary confusion. It can refer to:

- A style of chicken wing preparation pioneered in Buffalo, NY (and used to describe similar ingredient combinations in salads, sandwiches, etc.)
- A large and bony freshwater fish found in the Mississippi River and served in certain restaurants here in Memphis
- The water buffalo, source of the original and still best milk for proper mozzarella cheese
- And the American Bison, which is commonly referred to as buffalo here in the U.S.

For the purposes of this article, I am talking about the last definition. For the benefit of any overseas or big city readers unfamiliar with the animal, I stopped by after work and took photos of my friendly neighborhood buffalo herd. I was able to get within petting distance, but I wasn't keen on getting gored and just took pictures. These are not the buffalo that contributed to my dinner--more on the herd later.

Now, this isn't the first time I've eaten buffalo by far, and it's also not the first time I've cooked with it. The first would probably have been when I was 15 and made tacos. In a similar spirit, I had this pound of ground buffalo and The Girlfriend was coming over for dinner. I'd made chili earlier in the week, so I decided on mini burgers a la Alton Brown's recipe. When I first saw that episode, I thought that the idea of making Krystals/White Castles at home was ridiculous. But I decided to give it a try and throw a gourmet spin on it.

The burgers were topped with baby lettuces and Carr Valley Mammoth Cheddar, which I'm afraid, is not made from the milk of genetically engineered mammoth clones but rather from normal Midwestern cows and produced in gigantic wheels. Add some home fries made from the now-ubiquitous fingerling potatoes, and we've got a decent meal.

For the wine, we had the 2004 Bodegas Nekeas Vega Sindoa Cabernet Sauvignon-Tempranillo. Navarra, Spain. 55% Cabernet Sauvignon and 45% Tempranillo. Around $8. Cherry and spice flavors up front, with strong tannins that held up well with the meal. The aftertaste is oddly cola-like, which isn't a bad thing when matched with burgers. Nice casual wine, as many bargain Spanish wines are.

Shelby Farms is one of the largest urban parks in the U.S. It's a huge area, and among many other things the park includes a small buffalo herd. Sometimes the nearby herd of longhorn cattle are allowed in and the two herds graze together. The park does have an Adopt a Buffalo program. Despite the posted speed limit, the buffalo were mostly moving at 0, with a few rolling on their backs in the mud to cool off.

April Fools Wine Reviews

In honor of the holiday, here's some of the weirdest wine reviews you'll ever read. For the record, I've never tried any of these beverages nor do I ever wish to. I've had some homebrewed wines before, some bordering on decent, others... I remember one offered at a pig roast that was served from a quart-size canning jar. It was a white wine colored to the shade of tea due to its aging in old whiskey barrels. While some wines are made in a similar fashion with great results, this one smelled like gasoline from an arm's length, and I politely declined.

Warning: none of the links below are suitable for those with weak stomachs or those easily offended by foul language.

Move over Robert Parker, here comes Bum Wines, a site that reviews the likes of Mad Dog 20/20 and Thunderbird (What's the word? Thunderbird!). With all due respect for the plight of the homeless in today's society, you've got to be pretty desperate to drink these wines. And you've got to be damned stupid to actually try them and build a website around the tasting notes. (By the way, the reputation of these wines has probably set back the acceptance of screwcaps on decent wine by several decades.) The knowledge that these are made by major wine conglomerates is disturbing.

Pruno is the name given to a variety of "wines" made in prison. The ingredients vary, and the end result is almost never pleasant, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Follow that link for a version that is based off oranges and ketchup and other unpleasantness. Here's a separate account of someone making prison wine using the "moldy bread in a dirty sock" method.

Though I haven't observed it directly, apparently prison-style winemaking is popular in college dorms by students who are 1) desperate for cheap booze, 2) have no sense of taste or smell, and 3) haven't figured out the more reliable and safer methods of befriending someone over 21, joining a fraternity, or simply going to parties. I read one account that included a picture of a fermenting bag of apples and rice, suspended in a slurry of God-knows-what.