That would be Doukenie's eye-rolling, tongue-swirling, lip-smackingly delightful "Hope's Legacy" (formerly "Hope's Raspberry Merlot", but doubtless some elitist French surrender-monkeys made the winery change the name of the vintage because it's not a "real" merlot. Like the French know anything about wine. Pierre, please.)
Offhand, I'm sure one assumes that a raspberry merlot would be the kind of thing your grandmama would break out on special occasions, the kind of muscadine wine that makes your eyes water with its huge, assaulting fruit and almost metallic aftertaste (that's the screwtop you're tasting. Not that I'm judging screwtops.) No, no no no and no again. The correct way to drink this wine is technically with a piece of dark, about 72% cocoa chocolate in your mouth, allowing the wine to dissolve the choc straight into your tongue. You can taste the raspberries, but you can REALLY taste the actual wine itself.
I may or may not drink an entire bottle for dessert. And I definitely would if they would just ship to Massachusetts.
Showing posts with label in the kitchen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label in the kitchen. Show all posts
10.08.2008
10.04.2008
Delicata, delicately
The recipes for cooking delicata squash (it's the white one with green stripes) I found on this website look pretty good. I'm hoping for some first-hand recommendations, though. Has anyone made this in a way that's particularly savory or delicious? I'd like to make something that tastes amazing with not too much milk/cream/dairy in general. I feel like I'm doing a disservice to winter squash when I overwhelm it with dairy and would like to bring the flavors out a little more subtly.
Summer squash is beyond my salvation, though. Freaking zucchinis.
Summer squash is beyond my salvation, though. Freaking zucchinis.
3.07.2008
Breaking Up With Kisses
...is going to be really, really hard.
Lately I've developed an fondness for -- nay, an addiction to -- Hershey's Kisses.
My chocolate-loving but expensive-palated Captain Boyfriend will no doubt turn up his nose at this admission (and probably give me a hearty glare, since I'm eternally bemoaning my propensity for snacking to the point where it bores him). Not for him, the cheap offshoots of the noble cocoa-processing tradition. He's a Black & Green's man.
Regardless, there it is. I can't seem to escape the chocolate. Every time I stray, every time the scale scares me straight to the narrow, it's only a matter of time before I'm tiptoeing back to that sweet familiar sin, welcomed with open arms and soothing sugar. Until now.
Today I had a dentist's exam. I'm not sure if A) it's because I haven't had my teeth cleaned in X number of Xs, or if it's B) because my old dentist and his various assistants really didn't know how to clean teeth well or if it's C) the technician who cleaned my teeth today was trained onsite at Gitmo but SWEET SUFFERING NELLIE. That was the most painful teeth cleaning I've had in ages. She was a nice lady but people, let me warn you against the dentist in Brighton Center. I mean, my teeth look good, don't get me wrong, they just hurt like hell for about half an hour solid.
But more importantly, I had my X-rays done for the first time in ages and the results were thoroughly unsettling. I have X number of cavities! Cavities! Again!! I've had a fair amount of cavities throughout my life already which I chalk up to both heredity and a raging sweet-tooth (This just in: Sugar really and truly does cause cavities. I'm living proof). But I thought/hoped I'd grown out of it. It's particularly painful now that I have to pay for my own medical procedures, and even onefilling is expensive enough.
The gist of all this is: I have to break up with my Hershey's Kisses. Really, with my sweet-tooth in general. As a creature of habits and a creature of comforts, this is really unfortunate. Please, no one say "Oh! try carrot sticks and celery! It really helps curb the cravings! Cause you munch on insipid vegetables instead of the candy that you're really longing for, and will continue to long for no matter how many insipid veggies you munch!!" People say the same damn thing when you're trying to quit smoking, and also probably when you're in life-threatening automobile accidents (This also just in: Insipid Vegetables found to be a Good Substitute for Morphine!).
No, the only way I've ever done this -- and I have done it before -- is to quit cold turkey. I find that craving sugar gets less intense the longer you go without it, but I find it very difficult to go without it permanently. And once I go back, it's like a saturnalia. I binge for days. I look at the suggested serving size, note that on my calorie counter chart, and then eat three times the amount suggested. I have to say I am pretty good about keeping track of how many sweets I've eaten even when I go over the self-imposed limit, but I often justify my intake with the perceived amount of calories I'll spend during my daily workout, or my bike-ride to campus and around, or any walks I might take during the day... (the reality? not nearly enough).
I'm still looking for the perfect balance. Until I find it, I've had my last kiss.
Lately I've developed an fondness for -- nay, an addiction to -- Hershey's Kisses.
My chocolate-loving but expensive-palated Captain Boyfriend will no doubt turn up his nose at this admission (and probably give me a hearty glare, since I'm eternally bemoaning my propensity for snacking to the point where it bores him). Not for him, the cheap offshoots of the noble cocoa-processing tradition. He's a Black & Green's man.
Regardless, there it is. I can't seem to escape the chocolate. Every time I stray, every time the scale scares me straight to the narrow, it's only a matter of time before I'm tiptoeing back to that sweet familiar sin, welcomed with open arms and soothing sugar. Until now.
Today I had a dentist's exam. I'm not sure if A) it's because I haven't had my teeth cleaned in X number of Xs, or if it's B) because my old dentist and his various assistants really didn't know how to clean teeth well or if it's C) the technician who cleaned my teeth today was trained onsite at Gitmo but SWEET SUFFERING NELLIE. That was the most painful teeth cleaning I've had in ages. She was a nice lady but people, let me warn you against the dentist in Brighton Center. I mean, my teeth look good, don't get me wrong, they just hurt like hell for about half an hour solid.
But more importantly, I had my X-rays done for the first time in ages and the results were thoroughly unsettling. I have X number of cavities! Cavities! Again!! I've had a fair amount of cavities throughout my life already which I chalk up to both heredity and a raging sweet-tooth (This just in: Sugar really and truly does cause cavities. I'm living proof). But I thought/hoped I'd grown out of it. It's particularly painful now that I have to pay for my own medical procedures, and even onefilling is expensive enough.
The gist of all this is: I have to break up with my Hershey's Kisses. Really, with my sweet-tooth in general. As a creature of habits and a creature of comforts, this is really unfortunate. Please, no one say "Oh! try carrot sticks and celery! It really helps curb the cravings! Cause you munch on insipid vegetables instead of the candy that you're really longing for, and will continue to long for no matter how many insipid veggies you munch!!" People say the same damn thing when you're trying to quit smoking, and also probably when you're in life-threatening automobile accidents (This also just in: Insipid Vegetables found to be a Good Substitute for Morphine!).
No, the only way I've ever done this -- and I have done it before -- is to quit cold turkey. I find that craving sugar gets less intense the longer you go without it, but I find it very difficult to go without it permanently. And once I go back, it's like a saturnalia. I binge for days. I look at the suggested serving size, note that on my calorie counter chart, and then eat three times the amount suggested. I have to say I am pretty good about keeping track of how many sweets I've eaten even when I go over the self-imposed limit, but I often justify my intake with the perceived amount of calories I'll spend during my daily workout, or my bike-ride to campus and around, or any walks I might take during the day... (the reality? not nearly enough).
I'm still looking for the perfect balance. Until I find it, I've had my last kiss.
10.03.2007
SoulFood: The kind you eat
Even though I'm headed to my beloved home this weekend (and its greater tri-state area, too), I still persuaded Captain BF to bring me a plate of good old home cooking from Union Street Bar. This follows the principle of "bringin' a plate back", a practice upheld by some Southern subcultures where if ya'll decide to go over there, I'm gonna stay here and do this/watch TV/run laundry/smoke a bowl/write my paper, but bring me back a plate, okay?
Well, I discovered last week that Union Street had a heretofore undiscovered delicacy: Sweet Potato Dumplings. They are just as bad for you as they sound. They're like bread made of sweet potatoes and deep fried in what is I am absolutely telling you pork fat (in the middle of Newton, home of all good things Jewish? No! But YES!) no matter what they say. Secret number one: the cheddar cheese makes no difference. Secret number two: the "maple dipping sauce" is Mrs. Butterworth. This appetizer is Sin Itself. I intend to savor my giant taters of goodness over the next three days.
By the way, my Blog-Rollio keeps growing. I hope you silly people are checking them out. Mostly, they're my friends and are all quite clever and attractive and rich (well. clever and attractive). And worth a good read, too!
Well, I discovered last week that Union Street had a heretofore undiscovered delicacy: Sweet Potato Dumplings. They are just as bad for you as they sound. They're like bread made of sweet potatoes and deep fried in what is I am absolutely telling you pork fat (in the middle of Newton, home of all good things Jewish? No! But YES!) no matter what they say. Secret number one: the cheddar cheese makes no difference. Secret number two: the "maple dipping sauce" is Mrs. Butterworth. This appetizer is Sin Itself. I intend to savor my giant taters of goodness over the next three days.
By the way, my Blog-Rollio keeps growing. I hope you silly people are checking them out. Mostly, they're my friends and are all quite clever and attractive and rich (well. clever and attractive). And worth a good read, too!
7.27.2007
scraps and scribbles: sultry summer evenings
--made Swiss Chard Ravioli a la Epicurious. It was not what I would call a smashing success, although it wasn't too bad (cover anything in enough butter and it's not too bad). I'm chalking it up to a learning experience, although part of that learning experience is learning how to read directions more often. And learning to ask for advice before freezing produce. The chard, she is how you say, bland.
--The night is warm, and the kitchen is roasting. But sitting outside on the porch, you can hear the voices from all around the neighborhood. Everyone must be out on the porch on a night like this. It makes me wish things could be like this more often. Reminds me of how they said New York City was a couple years ago when all the power went out with people chilling on porches, using candles and spending more time talking and playing instruments rather than being wrapped in their own little worlds. I'm not sure, but it might even have been before the major iPod wave hit the country, and therefore less people were even plugged into their earbuds.
There's even a really awesome breeze out tonight. I'm seriously toying with the idea of dragging my air mattress out onto the porch to sleep. I doubt I'll do it tonight, but if August is as muggy as it threatens to be, I think everyone should sleep on they porches. (yes, the "they porches" was intentional).
--Interesting article about Cheney in the most recent Progressive. More on that later.
--I had my first 45-minute workout session with Sara, one of the trainers at the Rec Plex today. I know some of my fellow students and workers are Beacon Hill Health Club junkies, but since I'd skip going to the gym if it were more than 5 minutes out of my way, I'll have to stick with the one that's embarassingly close. The work out itself that she set up for me is good, and I can tell that it's not actually that difficult but the fact that it's pretty tough on me for the first day makes me a bit sheepish. You wouldn't think that sitting down and standing back up, all on one leg, would be that hard, but if you were me you would be wrong. The faces I made were kind of hysterical, and hopefully all this pain in my lower extremities ("hiney" is counting as an extremity right now) will be well worth it. We'll see.
--The night is warm, and the kitchen is roasting. But sitting outside on the porch, you can hear the voices from all around the neighborhood. Everyone must be out on the porch on a night like this. It makes me wish things could be like this more often. Reminds me of how they said New York City was a couple years ago when all the power went out with people chilling on porches, using candles and spending more time talking and playing instruments rather than being wrapped in their own little worlds. I'm not sure, but it might even have been before the major iPod wave hit the country, and therefore less people were even plugged into their earbuds.
There's even a really awesome breeze out tonight. I'm seriously toying with the idea of dragging my air mattress out onto the porch to sleep. I doubt I'll do it tonight, but if August is as muggy as it threatens to be, I think everyone should sleep on they porches. (yes, the "they porches" was intentional).
--Interesting article about Cheney in the most recent Progressive. More on that later.
--I had my first 45-minute workout session with Sara, one of the trainers at the Rec Plex today. I know some of my fellow students and workers are Beacon Hill Health Club junkies, but since I'd skip going to the gym if it were more than 5 minutes out of my way, I'll have to stick with the one that's embarassingly close. The work out itself that she set up for me is good, and I can tell that it's not actually that difficult but the fact that it's pretty tough on me for the first day makes me a bit sheepish. You wouldn't think that sitting down and standing back up, all on one leg, would be that hard, but if you were me you would be wrong. The faces I made were kind of hysterical, and hopefully all this pain in my lower extremities ("hiney" is counting as an extremity right now) will be well worth it. We'll see.
7.24.2007
Kohlrabi...it's what's for dinner.
My roommate was kind enough to pick up this week's Stillman's delivery for me. I'm starting to get a little overwhelmed by produce, but if there's anything I've learned from growing up in a big family it's that food will never -- indeed, shouldn't ever -- go to waste. So what do we do that is uniquely American? Freeze it. Freeze it all. From hotdogs to horseradish, from pastry to pasta. Freeze it. European refrigerators are the size of a normal top-freezer on a smaller US refrigerator. Approximately the size of the second fridge we had in our laundry room. We also had two industrial freezers in our basement. I'm actually just beginning to realize how weird this is. Moving on...
So this week, we were given one kohlrabi. Kohlrabi looks like this, although it does not, as a rule, levitate:
It doesn't look all that versatile, but allow me to say otherwise. It's German for "cabbage lettuce" and it's delicious. Crisp as a radish, it has a little bit of a radish-tang but tastes also a bit like cabbage. One of the sites I checked suggested that it was similar to a water chestnut, and I looooove me some water chestnuts. However, this particular piece of produce was under Captain Boyfriend's jurisdiction (hence the levitating). The Joy of Cooking suggested a dashingly simple recipe, one just begging for a little improvisation. As follows, take ye one kohlrabi:
and "matchstick" it:
Upon doing so, boil the matchsticks whilst you grate about 4 ounces of parmesan:
and perhaps decide to get frisky with some fresh rosemary (a taste that was poetically described this evening as a very open flavor. "It makes a lot of room in your mouth", were more or less the exact words, and I think this is a pretty accurate description of rosemary):
Once you've finished boiling the kohlrabi, which only takes about 5 to 10 minutes -- you want it to maintain some firm crispness -- add 2 Tbsp. of butter:
and mix in minced rosemary and the grated parmesan. Add some black pepper, too. Then make some rice pilaf courtesy of Zatarain's and steam some string beans and pour a pint of UFO's Raspberry Summer Wheat and make up your dinner, like so:
Then watch your boyfriend eat it with gusto, since making the food yourself makes it taste ten times better.
NEXT TIME: see the beet lurking behind the beer glass in the second-to-last photo? His days are numbered. Will he be borscht? Or will he live to tell the tale?
So this week, we were given one kohlrabi. Kohlrabi looks like this, although it does not, as a rule, levitate:
It doesn't look all that versatile, but allow me to say otherwise. It's German for "cabbage lettuce" and it's delicious. Crisp as a radish, it has a little bit of a radish-tang but tastes also a bit like cabbage. One of the sites I checked suggested that it was similar to a water chestnut, and I looooove me some water chestnuts. However, this particular piece of produce was under Captain Boyfriend's jurisdiction (hence the levitating). The Joy of Cooking suggested a dashingly simple recipe, one just begging for a little improvisation. As follows, take ye one kohlrabi:
and "matchstick" it:
Upon doing so, boil the matchsticks whilst you grate about 4 ounces of parmesan:
and perhaps decide to get frisky with some fresh rosemary (a taste that was poetically described this evening as a very open flavor. "It makes a lot of room in your mouth", were more or less the exact words, and I think this is a pretty accurate description of rosemary):
Once you've finished boiling the kohlrabi, which only takes about 5 to 10 minutes -- you want it to maintain some firm crispness -- add 2 Tbsp. of butter:
and mix in minced rosemary and the grated parmesan. Add some black pepper, too. Then make some rice pilaf courtesy of Zatarain's and steam some string beans and pour a pint of UFO's Raspberry Summer Wheat and make up your dinner, like so:
Then watch your boyfriend eat it with gusto, since making the food yourself makes it taste ten times better.
NEXT TIME: see the beet lurking behind the beer glass in the second-to-last photo? His days are numbered. Will he be borscht? Or will he live to tell the tale?
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