Gastronavigation: Carneros & Sonoma Townsite Wine Wandering

We visited the wine country most recently with a medium-sized group, and as part of the Carneros wine region, Cline Cellars is a welcoming entry point. Although some of us were only interested in sweeter, aromatic whites while others looked for full-bodied reds, Ron, who poured for us at Cline's patio tasting bar, was excellent at ensuring everyone found something they enjoyed. He recommended wines at the edge of our comfort zones, from less common varietals like Carignane, to a smooth red blend even the white-wine-only drinkers might enjoy, but was never pushy. Tastings are complimentary, the atmosphere is gregarious, and the staff members are knowledgeable.

With lunch in our sights, VJB Vineyard & Cellars was an excellent next stop. The central plaza is large and airy - the perfect place to take a glass of wine, a scoop of gelato, or a wood-fired pizza (from the on-site gelato shop or pizza oven.) The pizzas are prepared on demand, but the wait is worth it. The winery itself focuses primarily on Italian varietals, and a glass of their Nero d'Avola paired beautifully with a prosciutto and mozzarella panini. At the tasting bar, $10 will snag you five tastes, which range from a medium-dry and citrusy Prosecco to a full-bodied Cabernet Sauvignon. The Chardonnay Port was also delicious.

After the sommelier at VJB recommended St. Francis Winery, particularly its Zinfandels, we were thrilled to try a horizontal sampling of three different Zinfandels at the St. Francis tasting bar as part of our overall tasting. (The Dry Creek Zinfandel was my favorite, but they were all delicious.) The newly released Petite Sirah is also worth looking up, and if you can, wander with your glass to the patio behind the tasting room to take in a positively gorgeous view. St. Francis' staff are friendly and knowledgeable, and will work with you to tailor your tasting to your tastes: we visited as a group of six very different wine fans, and each found – and left with – something we enjoyed.

For our last stop, we headed to Sonoma's townsite, where a number of tasting rooms circle the charming Town Square. M wanted to show off Bump Wine Cellars, one of our favorites, to the red wine enthusiasts in our party, but as we were traveling with a couple of Niagara ex-pats who were missing icewine, we continued up past the Square to Roche. The Californian and Ontarian wine regions differ considerably in terms of climate and terroir, so while we knew icewine was out of the question, we'd heard good things about their Late Harvest options. It was a fun way to end the day; just off of the Town Square, Roche is a casual and welcoming tasting spot. After sampling six different wines, we enjoyed a bottle of the Late Harvest Merlot while tucked in to a table on their large, sunny patio.

Review: Miller's East Coast Deli

...even though I think I'm still full from the Astro hoagie (a towering, savoury combination of pastrami, sweet-hot mustard, melty Swiss, red onion, and tomato), I find myself craving Miller's East Coast Deli's latkes. I scored a bite or two of K's when we ate there, and they were delicious: crispy on the outside and perfect when paired with applesauce.

Miller's was her recommendation: seeing it featured on Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives piqued her curiosity, so the four of us met early on a Sunday evening to check it out.  The deli has a simple frontage, but once through the door, we looked from the deli fridge to our right where all of the meats, fish, and cheeses are displayed, to each other and smiled: we knew we were in good hands.

Although delis have cultural cache as fast-paced places where service is effective if not friendly, I'm happy to report that the folks at Miller's were both friendly and knowledgeable, even for diners like us, who took a minute or two to weigh the considerable menu options. Although it was hard to look past anything with pastrami, the Day After sandwich (hot turkey, stuffing, Swiss, gravy, and cranberry sauce on rye) also looked tempting, as it's unlikely I'll roast a Thanksgiving turkey this year.

Growing up on the Canadian prairies meant that I learned about East Coast deli food later than most, and viewed knishes as a larger, baked version of a perogy* - but am happy to be making up for lost time. Woefully, there were no knishes left at the time we visited, though in retrospect, the considerable size of my Astro and M's pastrami Philly meant that we both took part of our sandwiches home, and might have barely dented them at all had we started with a knish or two. (For those with smaller appetites, plate sharing is easy to request, with a small $1.75 charge.)

The dessert menu looked delicious, but with take-out boxes in hand, we agreed to return another time to try out the babka, kugel, or cheesecake. Maybe next time, we'll make like a souvenir-store magnet and eat dessert first.

(Or maybe not; that pastrami is a pretty compelling argument in and of itself.)




*Cultural/Spelling Note: "perogy" is how I grew up spelling pierogi/pyrohy (it appears to be a regional choice most commonly used in Alberta), where they're an immensely popular food (and mascot at occasional sporting events.)

Review: Brenda's French Soul Food

Be prepared for a line at any time of day, but know that the folks in front of you are on to something good. Brenda's serves delicious soul food at a great value - definitely a solid choice for big appetites!

I was thoroughly delighted (and defeated) by an order of the BFC (Brenda's Fried Chicken), especially having ordered the gumbo as a starter, so while the leftover chicken made the best lunch the next day, next time I'll order the chicken by the piece and customize my side, as I saw savvy diners do at the table next to ours.  Conversely, the catfish po'boy was joyfully devoured by M - I think I may have had a bite, but it disappeared in a flash.  The beer/wine list is on the shorter side, but carefully chosen, and there are a couple of selections from Dixie Brewing Company from New Orleans that work well with the food.

Review: The Plant Cafe Organic (SF Embarcadero)

The Plant Cafe Organic has become one of my go-to restaurants when friends who are vegetarian are visiting SF. It has a great view from the patio looking out over the water, the staff have always been approachable and knowledgeable, and the food is tasty (I've a soft spot for the Plant burger, made in part with beets and thus a brilliant pink hue.)  The menu changes seasonally, showcasing different foods every time I've visited, though a couple of standbys, like the Plant Burger, remain on the list year-round.

Moreover, while it doesn't bill itself as a vegetarian restaurant, focusing on its commitment to using organic produce and free-range/sustainable meats, it balances a solid array of vegetarian dishes with a couple of carnivore options, which is handy when eating with a larger group. I admire their experimental spirit, and admit to Googling cocktail ingredients I'd never heard of before when looking at the drinks list - Snap or Dimmi, anyone? - but being very happy with the results, particularly the Ginger Snap.

Thoughts: on cookbooks

I paged through Nigella Lawson's Feast for Halloween-party cooking ideas this morning; for a brief time in KW, I swore I'd cook my way through it, and referred to its author playfully as 'Queen Nigella' - there was something to her poise, her warm turn of phrase, her sumptuous recipes and beautiful hair, that I wished to emulate. Failing that, conquer my fear of baking, gather friends for dinner, and learn that some of the most curious Anglicisms relate to food. (A swede is not a Swede, but a rutabaga.)

Shifting years and timezones later, while I didn't elevate its author to the same royal moniker, I told myself the same thing about Alice Waters' The Art of Simple Food. The books could be a study in contrasts; the rich matte pages with the simple line drawings reflected a life lived close to where everything grows, where so much had been pared away from what I'd known. Strangers in a strange land, the large portions and glossy photographs of Feast conjured bittersweet memories of knowing enough people to justify the recipes that served ten, or twenty; guiding one friend's hand as he first cut an emerald bell pepper, or laughing at the repartee between others, assigned to molding lamb meatballs spiced with harissa and bright peppercorns. Though I've never worked in a kitchen, and suspect my knife skills would have me laughed right out of one (effective but unglamorous; funny: I climb the same) those people, that time - they were a kitchen, they were a crew, though now scattered to the four corners of the continent quite literally.

Perhaps there's something to the fact that I'm picking up Feast again, for more than its risotto recipe (which I think I know by heart, by now.)  Both women, both writers, are storytellers, which is at least part of why these books survived my shifts with me. There's a balance to reading both, again. Know the land, know yourself, but don't be afraid to look beyond (remember to learn things along the way.)

Carpe diem, and save room for dessert.

Review - Nob Hill Cafe

A craving for pasta and a fiance out rock climbing turned my feet to Nob Hill Cafe on a windy Tuesday evening. It's a neighbourhood institution that's hard to walk past; often bustling with an interesting mixture of visitors and regulars, their heads bowed happily over bowls of pasta or seasonal pizzas. The scents of garlic and Parmesan, inevitably, follow you for half a block if you have the strength - or an already full stomach - to keep walking.

This time around, I ordered the Insalata Caprese for my starter, followed up with the Spaghetti alla Carbonara. I was sad to see that the Cafe hadn't quite finished baking their in-house foccacia when my bread basket arrived, as historically, the basket contains a blend of crusty sourdough and herbed foccacia (the latter of which is one of my favorite breads found to date in SF), but I was dining earlier in the evening, and the sourdough was perfect for dipping in the vinaigrette served with my Caprese.

The Caprese turned out to be more elaborate than the menu indicates; beyond the traditional basil, fresh mozzarella, and tomatoes, the dish was served over baby greens with thinly sliced red onions and an admirable quantity of olives, topped by a balsamic vinaigrette. At times, the vinaigrette cloaked the fresh flavours of the cheese and tomato, so I wouldn't recommend the salad for Caprese purists, but it remained an enjoyable start to my meal.

I have a guilty not-quite-secret; when it comes to pasta, I tend to lean towards the unconventional or the elaborate. NHC's Carbonara is a delicious reminder that sometimes, classic dishes keep their popularity for good reason. It arrived at my table piping hot, in a bowl with tall sides (the better for swirling and mixing in the fresh ground pepper and Parmesan; key ingredients, my server and I agreed, for making this dish an ultimate comfort food.) From the texture of the noodles to the creamy sauce highlighted by garlic and pancetta, the Carbonara was easy to love. It's a rich, filling dish, so I packed some away for my lunch, and thanked the staff for taking good care of me. 

I find it telling how restaurants treat solitary diners, and am happy to report that NHC is a solid choice, whether you're on your own, in a pair, or in a larger group. That said, it's a popular place, and they do not take reservations, so would recommend coming early or later for dinner if you have a large group.

Salute!

Wandering: Boccalone Salumeria

Boccalone sells, as it says above the door, "tasty salted pig parts" - which may be enough to convince you to visit in and of itself! It definitely piqued my curiosity, but moreover, whether stopping by for a fantastic sandwich (the Mess Piggy and Italian sausage are favorites) or picking up ingredients, their team is always welcoming and helpful, so I've been loyally returning every couple of weeks to their storefront in the Ferry Building to try something new.

The refridgerated wall of in-house salumi can be daunting, but every time I've visited, one of the staff have been able to answer all of my questions and suggest recipe ideas to match each of their products. It's dangerous shopping to do on an empty stomach (I never leave empty-handed), but for the opportunity to learn about and try delicious treats like guanciale and nduja, it's worth it.

Guanciale, I learned, has been largely usurped by pancetta or bacon in carbonara pastas, but was the original cut of meat paired with that dish.  I've always steered away from making carbonara, a little nervous that the raw egg in the sauce wouldn't cook well enough when mixed with the cooked noodles, but am happy to report that my first foray was successful.  Conversely, the nduja, a soft, cured salami was crumbled on to a homemade pizza at the last minute to great effect. My only caution (as I learned two nights later when making pasta) is that a little nduja goes a long way! Its flavour is intense, and can overwhelm other elements in the dish if too much is used.

Review - Pasion

After taking in the permanent exhibits at the de Young Museum during its lively First Tuesday, A and I wandered up to Sunset, and on the recommendation of a friendly shopclerk, found ourselves at Pasion for its 4 p.m. to 6 p.m. happy hour.

 The space itself is bright and chic; the servers & bar staff friendly, though always moving! We visited the bar side of Pasion before the rest of the restaurant opened for dinner, and it was fun to catch glimpses of the ongoing preparation for that evening.

That said, the food did much to distract us! Lured in by promises of half-priced "bar bites" and sangria pitchers, we were quick to claim a pitcher for our table, along with a crispy-meaty-wonderful Cubano sandwich, some delicious fried plantains with an aji verde aioli, and a large plate of mejillones (mussels.) The mussels were plentiful, and a little taste of Canada (sourced from PEI) with a savoury tomato sofrito sauce and chorizo sausage to accompany them. Both the aji verde and sofrito were new to me, having not been exposed to much in the way of Latin American cuisine in the past, but I know they'll be tastes I'll wake up craving one day soon. We enjoyed the sofrito that accompanied the mussels so much that we ordered extra garlic bread to enjoy the last of it. (Extra bread, our helpful server advised us, would cost $1 for the two pieces we requested, but it was a small price to pay to enjoy the dish to its fullest.)

 It was easy to see that a lot of care went into the preparation of the dishes and their components; everything was plated beautifully and tasted fresh and delicious. Our sangria was a lovely accompaniment to our appetizers of choice, as well, though the cocktails that the bar staff were preparing also looked tempting. Next time!


 

Wandering - Tartine (SF)

I found Tartine just before noon on a Wednesday morning; like so many popular places in SF, it eschews notable signage, displaying a plain black sign with no lettering over tall windows. It was by chance I found it (well, chance and a nearby bus stop, en route to yet another apartment viewing) but I'm very glad I did.

Though the pastries were tempting, reminding me a little of the jewel-toned and rich chocolate desserts I first became acquainted with at Edmonton's Duchess Bake Shop, I snapped up a slice of the ham and cheese quiche, and was very happy with my choice. The quiche was delicious. Balanced, texture and flavour-wise, the ham added a salty undertone that fit, but which didn't overwhelm the other flavours. When I make quiche at home, it's often too soft (my baking curse continues!) but Tartine's doesn't suffer a similar fate. It's fluffy but not inconsequential, and made for a tasty, light lunch as I sat outside at one of their patio tables and watched the world slip past Guerrero and 18th.

Even mid-week, there were lines to contend with, but the staff were friendly and helpful, and the line moved pretty quickly. I'll be happy to return, and maybe indulge my sweet tooth the next time around!

Gastronavigation: Northern Sonoma County (Dry Creek/Russian River Valley)

A new home, a new wine region!

Last month, M's changing work situation saw us packing up our things*, throwing a most excellent shindig with great friends, and moving to San Francisco.

* = most of our things. International wine law is a complicated manner, and even with help from M's employer/relocation team, figuring out what to do with our wine was one of the most headache-inducing parts of the journey.  Next time, would I just drink my cellar?  I'd like to say no, but we'll see where life takes us!

Once we got our feet under us in the City, one of our first stops was Sonoma County.  Armed with a map and recommendations, we aimed our sights at the Dry Creek Valley.

We didn't make it up to Dry Creek until later that day; it grew too difficult to ignore all of the winery signs at the side of the road. One of the things that surprised us the most about California wine regions was simply how many wineries there were. With many more years as an established wine region, and hundreds of wineries in Sonoma alone, our journeying seems cut out for us - if I can persuade M to split our time between the vines and the mountains!

These futuristic, egg-like vessels were on the production floor at Thomas George Estates; while tasting some of their delicious Pinot Noirs, the sommelier working with us first showed us a picture  and then walked M and I over to the floor to check them out in person. He shared that the casks are primarily used to age Chardonnay and Pinot Noir wines, but that the winemaker was also planning to experiment with other varietals.

I'd never heard about wine being stored in concrete before, but heard later from a friend that Tawse in Niagara also uses this method to age their wines without imparting any distinct flavours like oak, vanilla, toast, or toffee, like oak aging would.  Concrete-aged wine doesn't sound particularly romantic, but it's a fascinating innovation, and definitely something I'd like to return to try!

Here's the last sip of the last wine we tried at Thomas George Estates: a 2010 Zinfandel, which we took home with us.  I enjoyed the Pinot Noirs very much, but will have to return once I've found employment on this side of the 49th.  Handcrafted wines, while wonderful, reflect the care that goes into them in their pricetag.

Zinfandel isn't nearly as widely grown in Niagara, so with the mindset of "while in Sonoma, drink as the Californians do," I'm looking forward to learning more about this varietal. It's one that I hadn't put much stock in before, knowing it primarily as a sweet, berry-happy patio sipper in its White Zinfandel form.  I'd be happy to drink this Zinfandel on a patio (M and I sure eyed the garden area just outside the wine cave where we were completing our tasting with a wistful eye; unfortunately, the wine must be consumed inside designated tasting areas) but this delicious medium-bodied red would be even happier paired with a steak on a patio.

Our next stop was Hop Kiln Winery.  The historic building was constructed in 1905, and had a visually striking appeal only helped by its view of the mountains across the valley.  As we started our tasting, we learned that before Sonoma County became a wine region, this part of it was one of the largest producers of hops in the western USA.

The transition from beer-adjacent production to wine serves them well; the team at Hop Kiln serve tasty and approachable wines, and are friendly (if busy!)  The winery seems very popular with large groups thanks to both its wines and large picnic facilities, and there was a large group that looked like a family reunion spending the afternoon in the picnic area as we arrived. I know I'd have found trouble if I were a child at a winery (whether by asking tons of questions or finding my way into the library section) but it was great to see that some wineries are family-friendly.  I considered finding the library, but chose instead to sprawl with M on the winery's large front lawn and snap an absurd number of pictures. (It's a very cool building. Lots of neat details.)

Of the HK wines that we tried, I enjoyed the Russian River Valley Pinot Noir and their red blend the best, and as the red blend changes yearly, and has a loyal fan base, I look forward to trying another year's vintage to see how it changes.

Our last wine stop of the day was, at the recommendation of Craig from Thomas George Estates, Bella Vineyards.  Bella is perched at the very end of West Dry Creek Road, and the journey there is gorgeous if mildly adventurous (narrow, winding roads with not really any shoulder to speak of, a decent amount of car traffic, and a more than decent amount of bicycle traffic!)

That said, is the journey worth it? Absolutely.

Bella feels carved carefully out of its surroundings; tucked into tall, winding hills covered alternately with vines or bee-magnet lavender near the entrance.

Its wine cave is built into the hill in the picture above, and on the day we visited, was candle-lit for the "Pink Out" event to celebrate the release of their 2012 rose (paired with Hog Island Oyster Co. oysters, which were amazing. I've never been one for oysters but the team at Hog Island might have changed my mind.)  The rose was a good match; refreshing, and with enough body to compliment but not overwhelm the oysters.

Once in the cave (french fries and 10 Acre Russian River Pinot Noir in hand), we wandered past barrels and old presses, all candle-lit, which was at once beautiful and worrying (fire hazard? anyone?) but it sounds like the winery has a good deal of experience in placing the candles so that they're safely out of elbow reach.

Our next two tastings were Zinfandels that the sommelier nicknamed Tuesday Evening and Friday Night, and while I smiled at the nicknames initially, they fit. The first of the two, the Dry Creek Valley Zinfandel, was Tuesday - approachable, fruit-forward, with berry notes and softer tannins. I enjoyed it, but the Friday version, Block 10 (as seen below) was a little fuller-bodied and compelling.  Both were delicious introductions to the variety of Zinfandels available in California, and a great indication of the variety Bella's winemakers (and terroir) are capable of expressing.

It was also a blast to talk icewines and late harvest wines over our last tasting, a Late Harvest Zinfandel paired with a dark chocolate peanut butter cup.  After a day of learning, it was fun to be able to bring something new to the table, and perhaps inspire someone to check out a new wine region.

Gastronavigation: Prince Edward County

Because he knows me well, part of M's Christmas gift to me was a completists' tour of Prince Edward County, a developing wine region in Southern Ontario. Our knowledge was limited to the Wine Country Ontario map, which offers a great highlight of nine of the area's thirty-odd wineries (hence why we thought we could tackle this region in a weekend!)

Scoring a shoulder-season deal to stay at Huff Estates garnered us a wine tour with their sommelier, Brian, whose quick wit and wide breadth of knowledge gave us a better idea of which grapes grow well in PEC, and how the various soils align to better grapes. We learned that the sweeter dessert wines grow best in the South Bay area, that the process of burying the vines in dirt over the winter is referred to as 'plutage,' and that we should never refer to a full-bodied wine as "heavy" within Brian's hearing! (Fortunately, this was an anecdote, not learned first-hand.)

Zero de Gris (at left) is one of the wines we tried at Huff; the pun in its name made me smile, as did the wine itself.  It's a late harvest Frontenac Gris (something completely new for me.) It tasted of honey, and oddly enough, of lemon meringue pie, reflecting a good balance of acidity and sweetness.  This grape species is a hybrid, first observed in Minnesota as a cross between a French varietal (Landot) and the widespread North American Frost Grape, or Vitis riparia. Perhaps in part due to its hardiness, this varietal is much more visible in PEC compared to the warmer Niagara region.

Closson Chase was one of our first stops, and even in overcast light, the soft purple on the renovated barn is striking. It's on one of the oldest homesteads in the region, and the winery's bold Chardonnays definitely made a good impression!

Naming conventions in PEC entertain me greatly. Closson Chase's name sounds as if it has a tale to spin, and while I'm sure it does, it's also simply located on the corner of roads named Closson and Chase. (East and Main restaurant and 66 Gilead Distillery are more examples of this trend.)

Decisions, decisions! Closson Chase focuses on growing and producing premier Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, and the latter was good enough to pull M and I out of our (self-inflicted, post-Pinot-Affair-last-year) Pinot ennui!
Purchasing-wise, we wanted to focus on PEC-area (or VQA PEC) wines, so we brought home the Closson Chase Vineyard Chardonnay. (The winery also sources some grapes from the S. Kocsis vineyard in Niagara for some particularly lovely Chardonnays.)

M's declaratively more of a red wine fan, so it was great to see him try some of these bolder whites during our trip, especially at Closson - and emerge on the other side of the attempt a budding enthusiast.

The non-tasting room section of Closson Chase's barn is a seriously nifty space - a little drafty in early March, but I could see this being heaven in May, and very cool for shindigs, weddings, and other events.

I like how the stained glass's pattern on the far wall is echoed in Closson Chase's bottle design elsewhere around the winery.

This beautiful church (at left, above) is on part of Closson Chase's property; vineyards run for miles beyond it. The roof was resurfaced in the early 2000s with a design inspired by a church in Burgundy. Seeing it stopped M and I cold when we drove past (and sent us scrambling for our cameras.)  The friendly nature of the County was further revealed when the first car that drove past us slowed down as it passed and checked in on us to make sure we were all right. We waved our cameras and thanked them for checking with a smile.

Across the field was a wonderfully photogenic red barn. The County at this time of year dances a beautiful line between desolate and stunning that feels ineffably Canadian. (At least, it brings to mind all the CanLit I read in Uni that never really made sense until I moved East. That said, one day, I'll reconcile the fact that to Ontarians, Ontario is not East, it's Central, but I've enough prairie girl in me still to call it East.)

At right is one of the things that lured me to Prince Edward County in the first place - a Canadian take on port, both white and red, under Karlo Estates' Van Alstine label.  It was the last sample I tried in an array of delicious options. We started with an impressive Riesling (Lake on the Mountain) that was my trip favorite Riesling, then their Chardonnay CHOA, Cabernet Franc, and Quintus red blend (one of M's standouts, it weaves together Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon, Petit Verdot, Malbec, and Merlot.)

Though the Chardonnay CHOA was a little too bold for my palate at present, it had a complex blend of notes that will have me coming back on my next trip to see if my thoughts have changed. (CHOA stands for Cherry, Hickory, Oak, and Ash, the combination of County wood that goes into the barrels where this Chardonnay is aged, put together specially for Karlo at one of two cooperages in Canada, at the Carriage House Cooperage in Bloomfield.)  Compared to other varietals like the Riesling and Frontenac Gris Rose, it's not as easy-drinking, but I could see it becoming something I'll love in the future.

Wonderful as the wine was, we couldn't drink it all the time!  On our second day, M and I found ourselves at the Tall Poppy Cafe in Wellington for lunch. We loved it, and were I gifted with Carmen Sandiego's skill at purloining landmarks, I would leave the Golden Gate Bridge and steal the Tall Poppy instead! The people were friendly, the space was welcoming no matter one's age (people aged six to sixty sat around us, enjoying the fresh soups, sandwiches, and in my case, awesome Mediterranean platters of couscous, grilled halloumi cheese, hummus and pita, warm artichoke dip, and lots of fresh veggies and olives!  I was starving, and still walked away with a takeaway container for later.)

It's definitely worth the stop, if you find your feet taking you to PEC.

We rounded out our trip at Sandbanks Winery, and despite the chill in the air outside, it was easy to feel like summer was around the corner when leaning on the burnished copper countertop, enjoying the bright, abstract art that lines the tasting room walls, and learning that not all Baco Noir is created equally. M and I had a terrible experience with Baco Noir, once, but were slowly testing our luck with the varietal over the course of this trip. Sandbanks trumpet their Baco Noir VQA as their signature wine, so we suspected we would be in good hands.

After trying and enjoying both the regular and reserve releases, we decided to purchase a bottle of the reserve release - but not before I was ensnared by Love, Sandbanks' cassis aperitif, a blend of Canadian cassis liquor and white wine.

It was a perfectly sweet finish to a trip to vineyards that weren't afraid to see life through rose-coloured glasses - nearly every vineyard we visited prominently featured a rose wine or another offering in blushing hues, like Love.

One trip is never enough - there's a cooperage and distillery that have piqued my interest (but whom were closed on Sundays, at least in the early-March shoulder season when we visited!) not to mention twenty more wineries to wander through!

Some of the wineries are seasonal, closing until April's festivals begin and more visitors turn their eyes to camping and wine touring in the area, so I know we'll be back, perhaps spending some time (and enjoying some wine) in the brightly-coloured Muskoka chairs on Sandbanks' patio.

'Til then, happy wandering! Have you discovered any knockout wines or wineries recently?

Gastronavigation: TERRA at Home Market

It started with a wayward Tweet on a Thursday afternoon, in which I heard about Manual Labour Coffee, a mobile espresso bar based in part out of Dundas (and in part out of a vintage Bailey Travel Trailer named Frankie), and shared this finding with M.  

M, in turn, tracked down their website, quickly fell into admiration, and shared with me that they would be part of the TERRA at Home Market that Saturday in Burlington. And thus, a road trip was born.

The premise behind this winter market is a little magical, not least to me; I make the joke with a wistful smile that I must have been a plant in a past life, as I operate a thousand times better when it's sunny outside or when surrounded by green, growing things. 

So, this greenhouse just outside of Burlington made the perfect escape for us from the grey skies and cold last weekend. Stepping in, it's easy to be distracted by tall palms, stunning orchids, and hardy cacti, but if you wind past the pots of hyacinths and callas, you'll find yourself in the market, lured instead by the sweet-salty smell of kettle corn (be sure to sample the cinnamon variant!) or the precise fire of a blue-flame torch over creme brulee cheesecakes.

We visited most of the stalls, coming away with everything from organic rutabagas to Hario coffee drippers. Meanwhile, M was in coffee heaven as he talked preparation methods and bean origins with the friendly and extremely knowledgeable team at Manual Labour. Even though coffee levels me with headaches and jitters, I walked away with a dark chocolate and chipotle cookie, which was glorious: smoky-bittersweet, chewy, and the best kind of unusual.

We entrusted our growling stomachs to the naked sprout, splitting the kale salad and sweet potato & parsnip soup. (It tasted great, and has to be at least some positive food karma for the mix of superfoods and veggies therein.) Kale has always been a food I've danced around; not deliberately, but as friends swore by kale chips or carried massive fronds through farmers' markets, I'd find myself distracted by Brussels sprouts sold while still on their stalk or new varieties of apple (or, okay, Anna Tolazzi's chocolates; those too.)  

I'm happy to report that the naked sprout's salad was a good introduction to kale. The cashew sour cream swirl on top of the soup was also delicious, lending an almost-citrus-y counterpoint to the rich, mildly sweet flavours of the sweet potato and parsnip. Perfect for warming up after dashing outside to drop off round one of our purchases (say what you will, but potatoes and rutabagas become heavy over time!)

The greenhouse setting was great for taking a break to eat lunch, but also talking with the vendors and other folks as we wandered.  

Although the market was busy, we never felt rushed or crowded, and covered in conversation everything from the schematics necessary to make road trips for cheese curds to the politics of organic farming; debated the merits of rainbow trout pate versus smoked salmon (the trout won); and talked truffles and Valentines with The Little Truffle Maker (and her husband, the Big Truffle Maker, who had the best aprons in the Market and wonderful smiles. And dangerously tasty truffles - if you can, sample the Orange Heat!)

It was a busy afternoon, but a wonderful one - if you find yourself in Burlington or Milton (where another Terra market has just started up) over a weekend, it can be a great way to connect with local farmers, chefs, and innovators - and is a welcome burst of colour. Spring's just around the corner, after all...

Happy wandering!

Thoughts: Stormy Weather for the Food Industry?

It's an interesting time to be writing around the periphery of the food world. The industry, and its legion army of amateur and professional personalities, reviewers, thought-provokers, and unflappable Instagrammers have been receiving a lot of press lately.  And at least from the mainstream side of things, little of it is flattering. Take your pick: the Reviewercard tempest-in-a-teapot (if nothing else came out of the brouhaha, I now know who John Birdsall, who wrote the story behind the latter link, is, and plan to follow his writing, because he makes me smile); subtler reminders that not everyone enjoys others' flash photography during their dinner out; or perhaps this wickedly pointed and yet often on-point post about unspoken thoughts and the food industry. (In regards to this last piece, while we're in accord about elevated cuisine and $16 mac & cheese, I will defend to the pain that cabbage rolls, depicted in their Thought 16 as an example of "not every cuisine deserves to be celebrated," certainly do deserve celebration. And afternoons dedicated to making nothing but with laughter, family, and new and old friends.)

All of this feels, to misquote the newest Selena Kyle, a little like the moments before a storm.

Here's hoping that I'm wrong; still, it feels like there's a few changes on our horizon. How we Tweet and talk about food is changing; hopefully for the better, the more respectful. (Standing on chairs to get a shot of your appetizer really is a little over-the-top.) But for all of that, I quietly advocate that there's still space for all of these odd, wonderful personalities.

After all, KW's food community was the first to welcome me; in particular with my golden ticket at Nick & Nat's Iron Chef competition. In that evening, I gained a new voice and met folks who I admire, respect, and whose lives have intertwined with mine in different ways ever since. I was a little dumbstruck as I took the guest judge's chair - "I can't talk about food; not really," I told the dark-haired woman sitting beside me, gesturing slightly to the man two seats over, "that's Andrew Coppolino, for heaven's sake."  I'd been in town for only a couple of months, but Andrew's Waterloo Region Eats was one of the first local sites I found, and I referred to it  (and continue to) as a map of the region; ideas, recommendations, and things not to miss. She smiled, distracted me with pointing out a chef's dexterous maneuver  rolling and slicing gnocchi with impossible ease, and got me talking; Anna Contini, Foodlink's project coordinator and local food advocate, is a good person to have in your corner.  Susan Cook-Scheerer of Rogers TV Cable 20's daytime (who I would meet again, later, through my work) rounded out the evening's judges. She and Andrew welcomed me to the community, as Anna introduced me, and while they all approached food from different ways of thinking, (and, perhaps, in a more cynical space, could have looked down their nose at this starry-eyed twenty-something with wild hair and wilder metaphors) their welcome was genuine and their thoughts (on the food, on the night itself, on the community and connecting with it) each added something different to the event.

I've a weakness for symbolism - after all, look: here is the neophyte, the established food writer and personality, the media, the community benefit organization. Four judges, four different stakeholders. The thread dancing through this recollection is that there can be a place in the food industry for everyone with an interest in or connection to it. It worked, that evening; it can work on a larger scale with the right steps forward. Whether part of the traditional or independent media structures, advocate or grower, newcomer or steeped in the history and knowledge of a place/art/style, our insights and experiences, when collected, can't help but make our community stronger.

Pie-in-the-sky optimism? Perhaps. But here's to food, wine, and moments of shared wonder, even so.

Review: Beertown (Waterloo)

There are at least four analogies that I've half-written to sum up my feelings towards Beertown, the glitzy brewpub in Uptown Waterloo and the latest addition to the Charcoal Group's holdings in & around KW.

The Beergarden! (co-starring the California Cheeseburger)

Most of the analogies are positive - it's hard not to like a place that has beers like Innis & Gunn and Maudite on tap, and their burgers are great. Equally so, and somewhat improbably so, is the Beergarden salad. Poached pears, beet strings, radishes, Napa cabbage, craisins, and candied pecans add texture and flavour to one of the most inventive and delicious side salads I've seen in a long while. Moreover, my weakness for terrible puns remains intact.

I liked that their menu caters to a wide variety of beer enthusiasts, which definitely makes Beertown more friendly for groups, not all of whom might be equally passionate about the pub's namesake beverage. Depending on your level of interest, there's a comprehensive book that describes everything on tap, then divides up the bottle list into ales and lagers, and then into subsections (the ale category features fruit ales, dark/brown ales, amber ales, IPAs...); a subtle, helpful "if you liked this, consider that." There's also at least three ciders available, an intriguing list of beer-based cocktails, and a short but robust wine list with a "good-better-best" ranking/pricing system that at once seems oddly honest and eye-roll-inducing.  Regardless, five points for featuring wines from Malivoire, one of my favorite Niagara vineyards!

Tour of Beer & brewery coasters. (Snag the Flying Monkeys'; it's redeemable for a brewery tour!) 

Choosing by not choosing, I went with the Tour of Beer, a sampler paddle of four ales which showcased an interesting mix of ale varieties and flavours, some new and some well-loved (and some, like the Smashbomb IPA by Flying Monkeys, almost too hoppy to drink without the savoury flavours from my burger to mellow it.)   To run with the restaurant-as-student-type analogy, Beertown's definitely One Of The Cool Kids; a football player, perhaps, with a ready smile, a knack for throwing shindigs, the best beer fridge in town, and a weakness for classic rock anthems and the latest indie hits. From Welcome to the Jungle to We Are Young, the music was upbeat and lively, though increasingly auxiliary as the night went on and the conversations got louder.

my Mushroom Burger w/ Swiss cheese, arugula, & truffle mayo

This is the case even if you are, as our table of four was, tucked away in a corner behind the bar. Although the brewpub's ambiance is modern and welcoming, with cool touches ranging from using mini-kegs as seating area dividers to the warm glow of the tungsten lights overhead, several building materials (tin detailing on the roof; tiling) reflect sound instead of absorbing it.  On the upside, we weren't shouting, no voices were lost, and when our food arrived - in a timely fashion especially for a busy Friday - we weren't talking much, digging in to our burgers, salads, and chicken entrees with gusto!  I still have to quirk an eyebrow at their choice of programming - I've never mourned the loss of the NHL season more than the moment of looking up to the flatscreen over my head and seeing Scooby-Doo, not Sidney Crosby.

Service was good; as a newer establishment, there will always be some wrinkles, but they're a hard-working team. S's half-chicken entree with side salad was served as a quarter chicken with garlic mashed potatoes, but our server was quick to bring out the salad once S noted the mix-up, and one of the kitchen staff arrived soon after with the other chicken portion. (Tables seem smaller, so at this point, we were almost out of tabletop, but we made it work, and our server checked in regularly to see if we needed anything or to clear empty glasses.)

As an aside, our hostess pointedly asked if we were celebrating anything - so it's likely worth mentioning to yours, if you are when you visit! A pint on the house, or one of their decadent brownies with a sparkler on top, could be a lovely addition to your night.*

(* = these ideas are conjecture/wishful thinking; no sparklers or free pints were witnessed over the course of our meal.)

It's not a place to go for soulful conversation or a quiet night out; even early in the evening, Beertown's received lots of buzz around town and so is both packed wall-to-wall (with lots of very pretty/handsome folks) and unabashedly loud. But if you're looking for a lively evening with friends and an opportunity to try a couple of new brews, Beertown could definitely be just what you're looking for.

Review: Masala Bay

Although I love winter, and suspect I always will, there was something almost magical in opening the door to Masala Bay yesterday evening. In that moment, we were transported from the chill in the air brought by the first snow of the season to a haven of bright walls and rich wall hangings; of inviting aromas and sizzling plates of tandoori whisking past us.

Seating at Masala Bay is perhaps best described as intimate; it's a smaller space nestled on Regina Street in Uptown Waterloo, just beyond Erb, but it's possible that proximity to other diners helps to give it the air of a large family gathering: if chaotic at times, warm, welcoming, and friendly. It's certainly the first time another diner, with whom we hadn't even spoken during our dinner, pursued the four of us outside with our forgotten leftovers in hand and a great smile.

As I write this the next morning, munching happily on leftover Murg Tikka Makhani (butter chicken) and saag paneer, I'm very glad he did!  Even the last bits of the dishes made a lunch for kings (or at least, hungry bloggers with a slightly purple pen.)

The Murg Tandoori was not part of my lunch, as it had disappeared in a flash yesterday evening.  It was the first dish to be brought to our table, the chicken sizzling from the tandoori oven, but thoughtfully layered on top of a piece of tin foil, so as to not lose half of it to the heated plate.  Splitting the two pieces between the four of us still resulted in sizable portions, and the chicken itself was moist and beautifully spiced.

The rest of our choices followed soon after: two large half-circles of naan, studded generously with garlic and herbs; fragrant jasmine rice, the lamb Pasanda, and Murg Tikka Makhani nestling into the  brass tray holder in the middle of our table, lit from below each dish with tealight candles to keep the dishes warm. (It was a device that reminded me at once of a lazy-Susan and a chandelier, but your mileage may vary.)

Lamb Pasanda was a favorite at the table. Though all of the dishes were enjoyable - with a close runner-up's berth to the butter chicken, which, unlike most of its counterparts I've tried, carried a notable amount of heat with each bite - it would likely be what I would seek out next, upon a return trip.  I enjoyed the texture and flavour of the lamb, and its thick sauce, flavoured with cashews and saffron, was delicious. Perhaps it's the lure of a new mix of tastes; most of our choices were dishes we'd tried before in other restaurants, or have tried (with varying degrees of success) to make at home. This was something new.

So we shared thoughts and naan, and spun the dishes around the table until our bellies were full and our  trays (almost) empty; caught up in a story of summer shenanigans and mile-long portages through Algonquin, so happily full that we didn't even think of our leftovers until being reminded of them just outside the door.

There's something about this new season of cold that makes it the perfect time for comfort food; Masala Bay is a wonderful place to find it.

Review: King Street Trio Uptown

King Street Trio Uptown is gorgeous - I've been in love with the curving ceiling installation that mirrors the train tracks just outside with a deliberate yet playful air since I first saw pictures of them as the restaurant was opening.  Better yet, they've been upcycled from the old floorboards, like the vintage tin tiles on the walls (which were moved from the ceiling.)  Reinvention is always exciting.

Still, I'd not yet been in to check out the place (and the food!) so when M suggested it for our anniversary dinner, I was excited to wander over. One of the perks of dining early was that we were able to sneak in without reservations on a Friday (if dining after 6:30, I'd recommend them!)

From the door to the delivery of our dessert (the evening's feature, a pumpkin-white chocolate bread pudding served with [great!] ice cream, Chantilly cream, and strawberries, with a sparkler on top), service was friendly and professional. Our server was welcoming and very knowledgeable about the food and beverage options.

Along the line of beverages, I can't help but wish that the wine list displayed a little more variety, finding it more weighted towards the Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Pinot Noir varieties than I'd hoped.

...With that taken into consideration, the first two of those reds match well with the steaks featured on the menu - all of which are local Ontario beef, which is great to see. As to the last variety, Pinot Noir is well-known. And to be fair, there were a pair of Argentinian Malbecs, an Aussie Shiraz, a couple of French Bordeaux, and an Italian Ripasso and Chianti, all available by the glass. (The white wine list mirrors this, with six of the fourteen whites available by the glass or bottle being Chardonnay.)

When you look at it that way, the list is comprehensive in that a lot of the classics for each wine region are covered - but I'm thinking I'm spoiled in that I wished for something a little different, a little more out-of-the-ordinary.

...I know I shouldn't complain! The wines we chose were tasty, and maybe the choice of varietals helped me see past my usual VQA wine blinders (as an import to Ontario, I've always figured that, when in Rome...) and try the Valpolicella Ripasso. M enjoyed the Kaiken Malbec, and found it a great match for his steak and garlic mashed potatoes.

My salmon, served with a rutabaga mash (autumn-y, comfort food gloriousness) and shredded brussels sprouts, was cooked to order and not overwhelmed by either the mash or the brussels sprouts.

The attention to detail and plating was excellent throughout - though I couldn't help but wish for a little more of the berry puree that was swirled artfully around the salmon, which was more tease than coulis, portion sizes for the main courses and desserts are filling, leaning towards generous.

At the end of the day, King Street Trio prepares classic, if safe, food choices very well, with an eye towards some local sourcing, in an atmosphere that's chic, welcoming, and romantic.

Gastronavigation: Four Days in San Francisco (part 1)

Still adjusting to being back on Eastern Standard Time - California was a welcome change of scenery (though not particularly pace) and after spending a great weekend in Yosemite Park, M and I hopped across the Bay to San Francisco. He'd put a lot of thought and time into the Yosemite leg of our trip, and basically left the "city" part of the trip up to me. Which meant...

On our first day, we hopped on a bike tour out of Hayes Valley with a company called Streets of San Francisco - it was a blast, and although a lot of companies try for the "cruise the city with a cool friend who lives there already" vibe, these guys pull it off completely. We had a blast, and due to an ingenious route called the Wiggle (would I kid?) we did dodge the worst of the hills. Post Half Dome, my legs were very grateful for this reprieve.  It helped that our tour guide, Josh, was as savvy about food trucks as he was about the copious amounts of street art around the city's downtown.  

Lunch on our bike tour day found us darting under the San Francisco Chronicle's building for a small Off The Grid event - in the alleyway beneath the building, five or six food trucks waited. Food trucks, from what I could glean, have been booming in SF for the past two years, and as the trend is fairly new to Waterloo Region, it's inspiring to see what two years of ingenuity looks (and tastes) like.

It was tough to choose what to order, so Mike waited in line at The Chairman for steamed and baked bao, and I headed over to The Taco Guys' truck (right) for a summer squash taco and a Maui fish taco.  The summer squash taco and the pork belly bao (Chinese baked bun) with pickled daikon were standouts - summer-bright and packed with flavours that were at once comforting and unique.  ...mmm, pickled daikon.  We ate them too quickly to take pictures!

That said, both of these food trucks have a pretty serious food enthusiast following - we were glad to have the chance to try them at a smaller event. We found these food trucks again at the larger food truck gathering on Friday evening, and the lineup for the Chairman looked like it might be twenty to thirty minutes of waiting in line, easy!

At the end of the tour, we found ourselves back in Hayes Valley and wandering over to Smitten Ice Cream and its Kelvin machines that turn fresh cream and locally sourced ingredients into ice cream by using liquid nitrogen.  M was intrigued by the science, I by the sweet corn with berries ice cream. Though sweet corn was a flavour I chose for its quirky factor, bypassing salted caramel, which would normally be my YES PLEASE, NOW? choice, it was a worthy experiment. (And the blackberry sauce was perfect.) The texture of the ice cream, which the shop notes is less 'icy' than most ice creams as ice crystals don't have a chance to form in the flash-curing from the liquid nitrogen, is very smooth, allowing the delicate flavour of the sweet corn to shine through. Unusual, but yummy.

Day two, and M and I were en route to the Ferry Building's Farmer's Market... until, as we chilled out on a streetcar (we'd figured we'd take the scenic route) a bright green truck in the Financial District caught our eye.

"It's called the 'Nom Nom Truck," I explained as we waited at a stoplight. "If I don't get off this streetcar and check it out, my foodie friends back in KW (and some of our climbing buddies) will disown me."

M only laughed, following me across the road.



We split a lemongrass-chili banh mi (Vietnamese submarine sandwich; right) - the guy who took our order was great and split it in half for us. These are one of my favorite kinds of sandwiches, as I enjoy the collision of tastes, from the fresh, crunchy cucumber and carrot matchsticks to the sweet heat of the lemongrass chili chicken - the add-on of their vegan vegetable pate was brilliant. It added a savoury, earthy quality to the sandwich in the best of ways, and was completely different from anything I'd tried on a banh mi before.  (Now, to start talking with KW's own Givral Deli to see if they'd make something similar...)

 The Ferry Building's market is definitely a fantastic experience - not least because I was able to track down one of my favorite Japanese foods, okonomiyaki - with a Korean twist at Street Food Namu, Namu Gaji's traveling booth. (M has a picture of me smiling with said second breakfast in the minute before devouring it, but he's notorious for never uploading his pictures.)



Kimchi made for a satisfying twist on the pancake-like treat I'd enjoyed in Japan, and while I still think that Osaka-style okonomiyaki is my favorite, I floated around the Ferry Building somewhere around Cloud Nine.  M & I marveled at the wide variety of specialty mushrooms and their colours; my photo doesn't do the brilliant, burnt-orange-crimson colour of the lobster mushrooms justice!


I also got a kick out of the grow-your-own-mushrooms on display under massive bell (?) jars, and there were kits for sale, but I can't imagine Customs taking too well to my bringing one home as a souvenir!


At left is the inside of the Ferry Building. It reminded me of Chelsea Market in NYC on a variety of levels, and it was fun to have a fellow wanderer (M) with me, this time around.

We snacked on everything from airy vanilla bean marshmallows to a tall glass of Cowgirl Creamery milk - the latter of which was simple perfection, and probably a wiser treat than the home-made donuts in every shade and flavour just down the hall. (Another trip!)


Part Two will come; I'll leave you with a fun piece of chalkboard art:

Review: Bread Heads

Cities are wonderful things. I studied them, a little, back in my undergrad days - ten stories up at the top of the Tory tower with a formidable prof and a class of whipsmart fellow Poli Sci students. It's fascinating to see some of what we talked about take effect in downtown Kitchener; as the Shops on Duke Street become an increasingly interesting place to eat out; as Holy Guacamole expands, Exclamation puts a new face on the corner of Frederick and Duke Streets, and Bread Heads opens.

 Bread Heads is the newest addition; after a coworker talked happily about a new place that served great wood-fired pizza right around the corner, what could I say but "next Tuesday?"
Wandering over, we raised our invisible caps in gratitude to the friendly young team that didn't slow down as they made our pizzas, despite the fact that the inside of the cafe had to be warmer than outside - and the air outside was sweltering. 

We snagged two of the bar stools and took in the space. It's warm (in more than one way), welcoming, quirky, and played right in to my love of always having reading material at hand. I liked that all the books were on-topic.

The small sketches & paintings tucked behind the potted plants on the bar counter were a sweet touch; one of the little (and not so little - like the 'baker's calculator' on the wall) details to enjoy. The cafe isn't a large space, mostly intended for take-out, but a couple of small parties could still fit in, provided the waiting lines aren't too long.

Pizzas are assembled and cooked to order; K omitted the caramelized onions from his Duke (mozza, cremini & baby bella mushrooms, & pepperoni on tomato sauce) and I nodded gleefully when the cashier/prep chef asked if I'd like extra balsamic on my Breadheadigan (cherry tomatoes, goat cheese, & parmesan with a balsamic reduction & olive oil base.)  The summer salad looked tempting: mandarins, blueberries, and goat cheese in spring mix? Yum. Next time, I'll ask about the breads and muffins on the tray below the menu, too. The muffins intrigued, but I was too focused on pizza - and watching the flames dance in the wood-fired oven while trying not to boil, myself - to ask.

At $8 even, tax included, for each pizza, it's an arguably more expensive lunch as quick food goes, but the toppings are fresh, tasty, and plentiful (and, according to the website, stocked locally and seasonally as much as possible.)

 I was more than happy with the mix of flavours and toppings on my pizza - it's hard to go wrong with cherry tomatoes, dark balsamic, and goat cheese, and the Breadheadigan gets it very right.  The pizza dough is great, too: pleasantly chewy with crispy bits around a couple of air bubbles and flavourful without being heavy. K was equally happy with his Duke (pictured left), and recommended I try one of the pizzas with a tomato sauce base next time.

...that said: see you Tuesday?

Cheers!