Boudin Blanc

As a lover of haggis, and one who has made his own from scratch, I'm no stranger to organ meats stuffed into digestive tracts and cooked up for dinner. While perusing the odd meats corner of the local grocery store (which is a great place to hear a lot of different obscure languages and where I've held court explaining how to cook oxtails), I spied a pack of Tony Chachere's Pork Boudin.

Boudin isn't really rare or exotic, but might not be recognizable to many. We're talking here about the Louisiana style boudin blanc, a combination of pork meat, heart, and liver combined with rice and spices. The classic French sausage of the same name is a very different beast. What I did was poke a few holes in the boudin, steam it, and then seared it off in a skillet to provide for the ideal crispy skin. I served it with some sauerkraut and fresh tomatoes--perhaps more German than N'Awlins, but it seemed like a good fit.

The first thing you need to know is that boudin is more like stuffing than sausage, in that there's a lot of starchy filler. But the heart and liver really add a lot of powerful flavor, so it's far from bland. It worked out well with my sides, although you might want to throw in a few slices of grilled andouille to round things out.

Cooking Improvisation

Cooking isn't so much about being able to follow a recipe as it is being able to make do with what you've got and work around the complications that arise. I know people that have refused to cook a certain dish because they had everything except for a quarter teaspoon of ground nutmeg. I prefer a more improvisational approach.

Case in point: I felt like smoking some chicken quarters, and had everything I needed. Yet when I got a chance to start, I realized that I'd mistakingly bought a bag of lump mesquite charcoal. Unlike the compact briquettes pressed from charcoal dust, lump charcoal is made using chunks of wood that have been cooked in an oxygen-free environment. I like the flavor of mesquite, but it's much better for grilling (over flame or hot coals) as opposed to smoking (using indirect heat over a longer period of time). If you do a long smoke on mesquite the food will be nasty. Some woods work better than others for smoking, and if you use pine you deserve the ass-kicking your dinner guests will surely deliver.

So... I wanted to do a slow cook because I was using thigh/leg quarters of chicken, but only had lump mesquite and an assortment of chips (hickory/oak/alder/etc.). What to do? I took about two kilos of lump mesquite, prepped it in the chimney starter, and built my fire in the trusty old Weber kettle. The chicken quarters were marinated in Wicker's* for a while, and then I used a combination of grilling and smoking, including a set of old ceramic grill briquettes** that I've got from way back when. Hot fire, chicken is browned over flame, and moved to cold side of grill. Wood chips in a foil pouch are added, and then the whole mess is covered for a while. Flip, baste with more Wicker's, and then smoke a while longer. I did about 90 minutes of alternating grilling and smoking, just enough to get some good flavor without getting the resinous bitterness of mesquite. Then it was time to take a baking dish and the chicken and cover it with foil, and drop it in a warm oven for another hour. This isn't cheating--it's a common tactic, prompted by weather or the need to kick up the heat and grill something over high flame or you've just run out of fuel and can't finish it all on the grill/smoker/etc. (There's a fun trick involving an ice chest, towels, and hot bricks, but we'll save that for another post.)

I was very happy with the results, but during the final roasting I felt the need to make a slightly unusual sauce. In most of the US, barbecue sauce is basically ketchup and corn syrup with some added seasoning. Often it includes liquid smoke so that those without testicular fortitude can pretend that they've cooked something using the most ancient of methods. Some regions have thin vinegar-based sauces, North Carolina has a yellow mustard sauce, but I decided to go with northern Alabama's weird white sauce, made from mayonnaise and vinegar and some other goodies. It's a classic with BBQ chicken, though the sauce itself is odd: it's not a cream sauce, it's not one derived from béchamel, and it's not ranch dressing. It is its own unique little snowflake. But if you've ever had Buffalo wings with bleu cheese sauce, you're most of the way there. It is really tangy, and some preparations go as far as a 1:1 ratio of mayo to vinegar, sometimes with some added lemon juice to boost the acidity.

I served the chicken simply with some greens and fruits/vegetables, and the white barbecue sauce plus the chicken juices made for a delicious dressing for the greens. Try it out sometime--you've probably got the ingredients lying around the kitchen, and it might be a creative solution sometime when you're dans la merde.


*I have to give additional mention to Wicker's, made in Hornersville, Missouri. That's where my great-grandparents settled, and where my grandmother and my great-uncles were born. My father spent part of his youth there, and I have many happy memories of that small town of barely 700 people. Wicker's marinade is made of "vinegar, salt, spices". Nothing else, and it's been a mainstay in our family for decades.

**Gas grills often use lava rocks or ceramic briquettes in the bottom of the grill. The idea is that the stone retains and radiates heat, resulting in more even cooking. With a good setup you can turn down the flame quite a bit so that most of your cooking is coming from the slow roast of the stones rather than the direct heat of the flame. I've thrown some in the bottom of my charcoal grill to serve the same purpose. It's a very energy efficient method, but don't use random rocks from your yard--they might contain dangerous elements or can even explode when heated.

Wente Chardonnay Tasting #TTL

Just last week I mentioned a Twitter Taste Live event with Wente Vineyards representative Karl Wente, and this is about another one. While the writeups are a week apart, the actual events were held more than a month apart. This time we got a chance to look at a quartet of Chardonnays. I opened the first two a day early to give my friends Grace and Mars and Paul a chance to try them.

These kind of online tastings are great, because you can either invite some friends over to join you in the tasting, or save the leftovers to share with friends later. Lots of people don't get a chance to try the same grape from the same producer, expressed in four different ways in one setting.

2009 Wente Riva Ranch
$20, 13.5% abv.
Arroyo Seco, Monterey
This is a classic oaky California Chardonnay. People argue over this style, but sometimes I'm in the mood for it and sometimes I'm not. This one has big aromas of buttered popcorn and caramel--it reminds me so much of Crunch 'n Munch. Beyond that there are elements vanilla and peach on the palate, with an interesting finish of chalk and minerals.

2009 Wente Morning Fog
$15, 13.5% abv.
Livermore Valley, San Francisco Bay
Initial impression is crisp with a splash of tart acidity. The flavor profile is dominated by overripe peach, but the overall structure is mild and refreshing. This one was fermented half in oak and half in stainless steel, providing a lighter and brighter contrast to the darker and deeper Riva Ranch. The Morning Fog disappeared pretty quickly, as it was a favorite around the table. Terrific bargain here.

2010 Wente Eric's Chardonnay
$21, 13.4% abv.
Livermore Valley, San Francisco Bay
There's a light nose of apricot and flowers. On the tongue it's a little dark, with a slightly rough aftertaste that mellows with time. Trying it at various times, I think this one is much better at room temperature after some breathing rather than cool and fresh from the bottle. This one gave me the strangest craving for trout and green beans with almonds on both.

2009 The Nth Degree Chardonnay
$45, 14.2% abv.
Livermore Valley, San Francisco Bay
350 cases produced
I'd love to try this one in two or three years. It's great now, but it feels like it could develop beautifully with some more time. There's an initial whiff of buttered popcorn, but you quickly discover that there's a lot more going on here. I found it rich, rustic, and earthy. Not barnyard, but definitely farm-related. There's a rich flavor that reminds me of succotash (sweet corn and lima beans), and there's a long, mellow finish. Really quite nice, and highly recommended.


Note: These wines were received as samples.

Chancellor Cocktail

I am normally not in favor of mixing Scotch or Port with anything, much less each other. But I had access to some affordable versions of each, as well as the remaining ingredients to make another one of those old school cocktails like the Rob Roy. In this case, Wendy was my assistant for making...

The Chancellor Cocktail
2 oz. Scotch
1 oz. Port
1/2 oz. White Vermouth
2 Dashes Orange Bitters

This is an unusual cocktail. Despite the Port, no sweetness comes through. The Port and Vermouth do smooth out the sharp edges of the Scotch, leaving you with a slightly smoky, slightly medicinal cocktail. I can't say that it will be part of the standard rotation, but it's always interesting to see what flavor combinations were popular a hundred years ago when palates and flavor preferences were a bit different. It's sort of like comparing those recipes from the Middle Ages that would be unbelievably bitter to modern tongues, while our food would be way too sweet for theirs.

Sangria

I'm relatively certain that my ancestors that sailed the North Atlantic spent a good bit of time singing "What Do You Do With A Drunken Sailor?" Despite my landlocked upbringing, I grew up next to the largest river in the United States, with its own Coast Guard station, and have a handful of Naval veterans in the immediate family tree. Aside from that, the character on this blog formerly known as The Girlfriend spent some significant parts of her childhood living on Tonga, a remote set of islands a third of the way between New Zealand and Hawai'i. Strangely, almost none of the stories passed down to me from these acquaintances involve drunken sailors. But what do you do with a half drunk bottle, what do you do with a half drunk bottle, what do you with a half drunk bottle that wasn't great at first?

Grab some fruit, spirits, and a pitcher, and make thee sangria, ya landlubber. Right now my hometown of Memphis is hot. Plant some potatoes, and you can harvest them in a few weeks fully baked and begging for some sour cream. Due to the oppressive heat and humidity, many choose to switch from red to white (or even better, rosé), and the end result is a lot of half-empty bottles of red wine. Perfect opportunity to make sangria. There's no one recipe, no perfect technique, just combine wine and fruit and some spirits, let everything sit for a few hours, and either serve over ice or cold with sparkling water. For the attached photo, here's what I used:

Sangria de Benito
Cabernet Sauvignon
Sauvignon Blanc
Triple Sec
Creme de Cassis
Lime Juice
Blueberries, blackberries, raspberries

Combine everything and lightly crush the berries--don't fully muddle them, but do enough to release some of the juices. I used about half a bottle each of Cab Sav and Sav Blanc, plus a cup or so of Triple Sec, a few tablespoons of Creme de Cassis... The specific proportions and ingredients really aren't important. Part is going to involve the sweetness of the components, and the other will involve the balance of said components. Play around with everything until it tastes good to you, and then let it rest for a while so that everything can meld together.

The final product is so much fun and so refreshing that you'll smack yourself for not taking better advantage of wine leftovers in the past. The citrus and spirits and other stuff will kill off the nuances of good wine, but anything that's stuck in the back of the fridge will work in terms of making a decent wine cocktail. Kick back, sit on the porch, and listen to the bugs and tree frogs as the sun goes down. It's a good reminder that, as painful as our summers can be, there are some great ways to appreciate the season.

Wente Tasting #TTL

It was time again for a Twitter Taste Live event, this time with Wente Vineyards representative Karl Wente, who was celebrating his 34th birthday during the webcast. Karl is a fifth generation winemaker, and the Livermore Valley vineyards have been farmed by his family since 1883, surviving the 1906 earthquake and Prohibition.

I've previously reviewed two of these wines from the entry level Tamás line, and was excited to try the rosé. And then two big, serious wines to finish things off.

2009 Tamás Pinot Grigio
93% Pinot Gris, 4% Viognier, 2% Chardonnay, 1% Orange Muscat
Central Coast
$12, 13% abv.
This is a pretty standard domestic Pinot Grigio: light and lemony with just enough acidity to get your attention, but overall a very mild profile. Easy drinking, good with pasta salad.

2008 Tamás Double Decker Red
Proprietary blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Petite Sirah, Barbera, and others
Central Coast
$12, 13.5% abv.
Spicy and tannic, it ends up having sort of a simple Chianti-type character. And because of this, I found it a wonderful pairing with a casual dinner of spaghetti and marinara sauce.

2010 Sangiovese Rosato
Prima Classe Riserva
100% Sangiovese
Livermore Valley
$19, 12.9% abv.
300 cases made
This bottle isn't currently listed on the website (only available at the tasting room). Bright pomegranate flavor, crisp acidity, touch of tannins on the finish. Fruity and just a touch of sweetness. It's one of the first rosés I've had this summer, and it's a refreshing joy.

While the Tamás wines represent a new and lighthearted approach, Murrieta's Well is a 150 year old vineyard that was resurrected through a partnership with the Wente family in the 1990s. The source of good water was discovered by Joaquin Murrieta, who was the real life inspiration for Zorro.

2008 Murrieta’s Well The Spur
Livermore Valley
54% Cabernet Sauvignon, 23% Petit Verdot, 10% Petite Sirah, 9% Cabernet Franc, 4% Malbec
$25, 14.5% abv.
Blackberry and a touch of jam, smooth tannins, big dark fruit flavor. Long finish. The Petite Sirah is a nice addition to the Bordeaux blend, and helps with the overall dark structure of the wine.

2008 Murietta's Well Los Tesoros de Joaquín Anniversary Blend
Livermore Valley
63% Cabernet Sauvignon, 37% Tempranillo
$50, 14.1% abv.
Subtle nose of black cherry, black pepper, tobacco, and a touch of chocolate. It is smooth, delicious, refined, and well-aged. Save this one for a really great grass-fed steak.


Note: These wines were received as samples.

2007 Luce della Vite Lucente

Luce della Vite is a joint project founded by Marchesi dè Frescobaldi and the Mondavi Family. The Frescobaldis run the operation now, but the Mondavis remain financial partners in the operation.

As is often so interesting with Old World wines, the Frescobaldi family has been a political and business force for some 800 years in the Florence area. They got involved in the wine industry in 1308, and in later years were trading wine for paintings with Michelangelo and supplying Henry VIII with good Italian vino. The style of wine was perhaps a bit different then, but it's always incredible to have such historical connections swirling around in your glass.

My own family history gets fuzzy around the time of the American Revolution, but by that point the Frescobaldis were already sitting on over 400 years of dusty written records and ledgers.

2007 Luce della Vite Lucente
Montalcino, Tuscany
50% Merlot, 35% Sangiovese, 15% Cabernet Sauvignon
$20, 14.5% abv.

Lucente means "shining", although this is a deep and dark wine. Blackberry and stewed fruit aroma. Bold, medium tannins, flavors of black tea, black cherry, and plum. When it comes to a Super Tuscan, I tend to go for Americanized comfort food. Some big and beefy lasagna, or baked ziti, or in this case, pepperoni pizza.


Note: These wines were received as samples.

Macbeth: 1999-2011

"The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of."
--Macbeth, Act II, scene i

Our dear fox-red Labrador Macbeth passed away on Monday after some lingering health problems. He will be deeply missed.

Unlike the gloomy Thane of Cawdor, Mac was full of Falstaffian appetites and good humor. He was a dog with a loud voice who genuinely enjoyed hearing himself bark, was a strong swimmer, and was covered in muscle but as gentle as a lamb. Even when he was just a hamster-sized pup, he was always hungry and anxious to climb behind the couch, under the TV cabinet, or work himself into any inconvenient spot he could find, grunting along the way. He was quick to make friends with strange people and dogs, and as long as you didn't mind some slobber, everyone adored him.

The Roommate brought him home in 1999, after the two Labs owned by her parents had a romantic liaison and whelped a litter of a dozen pups. They were in all shades from white to black, but Mac was the only fox red out of the group. The Roommate had also been the driving force behind the rescue of Wolfgang a year earlier, as well as Mac's mother Goldie being adopted by my parents. In turn, such exposure encouraged my brother and my friend Paul to get dogs after years of living without pets. We all thank her for bringing so many special animals into our lives.

Mac had such a broad personality that he acquired a ton of nicknames over the years. It started with Haystack and El Fuego and Dozer, and developed into Maccy Dog and Mr. Jowls and a host of others that are slightly embarrassing to list here. Like a character in a Dostoyevsky novel, one name was not enough for him.

Over the years I used him for a few shots of wine bottles, in part because he was so photogenic but in part because he'd schnorfle around the table looking for dropped morsels of food or stray ice cubes. Guests at the house got used to that massive head poking up from under an arm or between the legs. And when it was clear that no treats were going to be handed out from the table, he'd groan and flop over on the floor, covering a substantial part of the linoleum.





He was a handsome lad, and remains in our hearts and thoughts forever. Until we meet again, you're a good boy, Mac.

Aussie Burger

When I'm dealing with Australian winemakers and publicists, I skip past the usual Crocodile Dundee references and prefer to talk about cricket or the weather issues of the Indian Ocean or anything that doesn't sound like a silly commercial for Matilda Bay Wine Coolers*.

While the hamburger has covered the globe at this point, there are still many regional variations amongst and within different countries. Here, I chose to prepare a standard Australian burger, with chili mayo, pickled beets, and a sunny-side-up egg. Now, when everything is put together this is delicious but it's a little tricky to get everything ready at the same time. The egg is the most problematic part, as you need the yolk to be runny but not raw... but you also need to serve the meat at a proper medium rare, and have the buns toasted and all that. And if you're serving fries, even more timing challenges. But not insurmountable.

I've had burgers topped with fried eggs before, and while I like them, I think they're generally too heavy. Just a bit too much protein going on. It is a delicious combination, but not something you want to do all the time. But the beets? Completely awesome. Place them under the burger and they sort of melt into the meat, and add an earthy and slightly sweet character to the meat. I'm all in favor of pickled beets as a standard accompaniment to burgers across the Northern Hemisphere. Even those who say they hate beets will be pleasantly surprised by this flavor mix.


*There was a funny moment when I was sixteen, and the day after a cookout, there was a leftover Matilda Bay wine cooler in the fridge. Mom and I split it and couldn't stop laughing about how silly the whole thing was.

Blog Headers Art Roundup Extravaganza

Since my last roundup of headers in 2009, I figured it was time to gather some of the hits and misses of the past two years. After that post, I was messing around with a lot of different options (as always, click on the images for bigger versions).

Based on Beeman's Gum, I loved this August 2009 design but after a few weeks it didn't seem to be a good fit for the site:



While I have a great appreciation for the De Stijl artwork of Piet Mondrian, there's a reason why this one never saw the front page. Mostly a sketch to figure out something new, which is a good way to stimulate the old frontal lobes:



The Schwa Corporation version wasn't much better, but it was October and I considered putting this up for Halloween:



This October 2009 blue header stayed up for a while, and I still like it, based loosely on the 1967-1974 SAAB logo from Sweden:



One of my all time favorites, and I'm still proud of it... the beautiful January 2010, five year anniversary, art deco, aviation-themed header, reminiscent of The Rocketeer:



In September 2010 I briefly played around with a Victorian theme, but couldn't get it to work. It was old fashioned in the wrong way, and the longer I played with it, the more it looked like a bordello sign from an old Western:



I scrapped it all and decided to go bigger and bolder with a 1950s look, but this wasn't quite right....



Shift the hue a bit and hey, that looks better. This and the argyle pattern stayed up for a long time to the love and disgust of many:



Finally time to retire the slant and argyle... No, we're not going to use the look of a 1990s 'zine, though if this had been made into a movie it would have starred Ben Stiller, Winona Ryder, or Bridget Fonda. Perhaps all of them:



I flirted with the idea of the "Welcome to Las Vegas" sign, but really, it needs more bats. I'm determined to come back to this one some day. I'm really happy about the jaunty star on top of the "i" in "reviews":



Finally settled on the look of a 1940s-era Saturday Evening Post that's been scratched and scuffed and banged around for 70 years:

Clayhouse Wines

NOTE: Trying out the new header, based on an old scratched up copy of the Saturday Evening Post. Love it or hate it, let me know. I always love to mix things up every few months.

* * *

I've had the opportunity to try several of the Clayhouse Wines in the past, as well as wines from other producers run by the parent company Middleton. Clayhouse has a good selection of entry level wines, such as the Adobe series shown here.

Clayhouse produces its wines with balanced blending in mind, and those blends will change over the years to deliver the correct house style and structure. All enclosed with a convenient screwcap.

2009 Clayhouse Adobe Red
Central Coast
$14, 13.5% abv.
32% Zinfandel, 25% Petite Sirah, 13% Malbec, 11% Cabernet Sauvignon, 10% Syrah, 9% Petit Verdot.
Nose of blackberries, firm tannins, and a dark fruit profile. There are some powerful grapes in this mix, but it remains a balanced wine that's a good casual blend for a weeknight dinner.

2010 Clayhouse Adobe Pink
Central Coast
$14, 13% abv.
38% Mourvedre, 32% Syrah, 30% Cabernet Sauvignon
Dominant watermelon flavor, with light aromas of wild strawberry and a hint of lemon zest. Tannins barely show up on the finish, which makes it fascinating as it warms up. Full fruit but dry. I served this to a half dozen different people with very different tastes in wine, yet they all loved it.

2010 Clayhouse Adobe White
Central Coast
$14, 13% abv.
46% Viognier, 27% Sauvignon Blanc, 16% Grenache Blanc, 9% Princess and 2% Chenin Blanc.
Princess is a cross between the Thompson seedless (the big green grape most people eat) and Muscat, but oddly it's not legal to list that grape name on a label yet. Slightly musky, touch of acidity. There's a little peach and apricot present, but the fruit is not overpowering here. Good all-purpose white, and a blend that you're not likely to see anywhere else.

2010 Clayhouse Sauvignon Blanc
Paso Robles
$14, 13% abv.
96% Sauvignon Blanc, 4% Grenache Blanc
And here's one extra from the middle tier of the product line. Crisp and acidic with lots of grapefruit both on the nose and the tongue. Very much like New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, and likewise this should work well with lots of seafood dishes.


Note: These wines were received as samples.

Farewell The Paul with Highland Park 25 Year Scotch

Paul and I have been pals here in Memphis since 1996, when we were Resident Advisors at a crumbling post-WWII dorm at The University of Memphis. He's been a regular presence on this blog for its duration, as I've used his place to entertain ladies while he was gone or hosted big dinner parties with friends and family. I snapped the photo at right in 2008 during Thanksgiving, which turned into a big opportunity to have fun and open up a half dozen bottles of wine while his sister kept me supplied with martinis. Cigars were a natural dessert, hence the photo. Turns out that Thanksgiving is a lot of fun when you've got all that going on plus some lamb and smoked pork going on the back porch, and about half a dozen people showed up each year.

The Paul has decamped to Nashville in order to be closer to family and for various other reasons. We here at BWR wish him the best, and I commemorate his move with one of the last drinks we had together, which was pretty memorable.

Highland Park 25 Year
$250/750mL bottle, 48% abv.

Paul had a glass of this in Seattle during a business trip, and vowed to purchase a whole bottle upon his return. From the northernmost distillery in Scotland, set in the Orkney Islands, this particular spirit is aged for 25 years in sherry oak casks from Spain.

It's a fascinating beverage because even a single shot goes through an evolution of aromas and flavors as you savor it and the whisky opens up. It begins with an almost sweet nose with aromas of cherries. On the palate, it's somewhat buttery and savory. Before long, a bit of orange peel and certain citrus characteristics appear. Finally, you get tobacco and vanilla and the deep, earthy part of oak, with just a residual touch of the peat reek. It may develop even further with more variations, but at that point my snifter was empty.

No cigars for this one. Although cigars and great spirits are a wonderful combination, when it comes to really spectacular Scotch there's no reason to dull the nose and tongue.

Good luck to Paul with his new life in Nashville, and for the love of God, this isn't the end of an era. It just means that instead of going over for a Friday night of frivolity, I have to stay for the whole weekend of Bacchanalian excess.

As he has said so many times with a sarcastic grin, "Damn the bad luck!"

Weihnachten im Juli mit Glühwein

Glühwein ("glow wine") is a traditional mulled wine of Germany, commonly associated with the Christmas season and festive markets where it's made in large pots. There are lots of different recipes, and it will vary from familiy to family. In general, you take cheap red wine and add citrus, cinnamon sticks, vanilla pods, cloves, and sugar. Heat it up but don't boil it, and serve in mugs. A cheesecloth pouch can be helpful in keeping the whole spices from getting loose. Sometimes individual people will add more sugar, or a shot of liquor, or some other enhancement to individualize their cup. I've had it with both lemon and orange, and I think that fresh oranges work better with the other flavors involved.

The final product is something that smells entirely like Christmas, even if you didn't grow up with this particular tradition. Keep a pine bough and a candy cane nearby and you can send yourself back to Christmas any time of the year.

Christkindles Markt Glühwein
Nürnberg
Gerstacker Weinkellerei
7€/1 litre bottle, 10% abv.

The spices and citrus prevent you from smelling the wine, but on this I got the aforementioned cinnamon and cloves as wel as some nutmeg and allspice. The sugar cuts back on the tartness of the wine and citrus, but it's not too sweet on its own. I tasted it three ways: room temperature, with ice, and hot. Hot is the traditional method, and while it would be incredible in the winter, during a Memphis July it's a bit much. Over ice it's a very refreshing beverage, sort of like a Christmas themed sangria. At room temperature it's certainly tasty, but not as exciting.

While Glühwein is more of a dessert or after dinner beverage, Paul and I decided to try it with food. I made something I thought would be a good match: thick pork chops brined and then stuffed with Stilton, walnuts, and blackberries. The end result was a delicious, savory chop that was juicy throughout and packed with flavor. How did it go with the wine? Not a bad pairing. Unusual, but somehow it all worked together.


As with other treasures from Germany I've tasted, thanks to Dave Rickert for passing this along.