Tasting Teaninich

This is an unusual dram in that it does not appear on store shelves in an official bottling. The good folks at the Scotch Malt Whisky Society have bottled quite few of this neighbor to Glenmorangie and Dalmore over the years. Bottling 39 from Teaninich is given the playful name "Gateway to Narnia," though for the life of me I can't figure out why. This 16 year old from a refill ex-bourbon hogshead is pretty robust, weighing in at 59.7% alcohol by volume. The color is copper gold and it has a strong, but light alcohol smell. The alcohol is hot, hot, hot on the tongue when undiluted, but the nose is less powerful. The nose brings paint thinner, some green vegetal smells, perhaps lighter herbs. With water it gets old cardboard boxes, light charcoal, Skor bars and a bit of a Canadian whiskey lightness. On the tongue the water turns it to a chewy, tannic dram with filberts and maltiness. An interesting dram, but not a stunner.

Stop being an ass

I don't use this forum to make a lot of grand pronouncements, but something I was listening to the other day really set me off, so I thought I would share it with you, my thousands (er, tens?) of loyal readers. I was listening to a re-run of the podcast of the Splendid Table, where a certain wine expert (I won't name him here, but you can listen to the episode here) was going on about syrah versus shiraz. His basic point was that the Australian style shiraz is a sweet confection barely worthy of the name "wine" and that people of real taste should only drink the "real thing" -- syrah from France. He contended that shiraz and other wines dumb down the drink, and expressed skepticism that it even serves as an easy entree into the wonderful world of wine drinking that leads to further exploration. He talked about shiraz in a derisive, scornful manner, pronouncing the name with spittle on his lips.

This set me off, because it is simply one more example of critics being asses and perpetuating a form of class snobbery. This is the equivalent of a Wagner fan looking down on people who listen to Britney Spears as uncultured. My response is that wine is a beverage that we drink to enjoy its taste, its pairing with food and friends, and, yes, even for its effect on our bodies from the alcohol. If I choose to do that with shiraz, or cheap likker, or Klug champagne, it's really none of the critic's business. It is no more right or wrong to be captivated by a complex, austere, and difficult to fathom great wine, than it is to enjoy a bottle of 2009 Yellow Tail. These are the same people who look down on folks who read so-called mass market fiction and claim "I only read the greats, such as Dickens." Um, Dickens was the James Patterson of his day, bub. Get over yourself.

I like to drink whiskies, especially single malt scotches. I prefer to drink them with just a little water, but some people enjoy them on the rocks, or even mixed with coke. I wouldn't do that, but if it's your drink, you should drink it how you like it.

And by the way, not all of us can afford $50 bottles of syrah -- sometimes the $10 bottle of shiraz is a splurge. You ass.

I feel like chicken tonight

Tonight's dinner was good old-fashioned comfort food. Roast chicken with potatoes, sweet potatoes and carrots. I tried a new recipe for the chicken from James Peterson's new cookbook called "Meat." This is a high-temperature chicken -- oven at 500 degrees the whole time. Despite the smoke (and a few roots that got a bit of a char on one side), this was a very good recipe. The chicken was flavorful, well-browned, and cooked through. The breast meat spends the first 15 minutes covered with aluminum foil to protect it, which seems to work well. I used a kosher chicken from Whole Foods, so that may help with moisture (kosher chickens are handled in a way that is less abusive than others and usually require no brining).

Struan

Today's bread-baking was a multi-grain bread called Struan. It has pre-cooked brown rice, wheat bran, corn meal, and some sweeteners (brown sugar and honey) to give this a light, sweet texture. I used Peter Reinhart's overnight cold fermentation technique.

The picture says it all

You have to see this picture in the New York Times today that talks about the potential for a sugar shortage if genetically-modified sugar beets are not allowed to be planted. That's one heck of a pile!

The New Food Safety Bill

There has been quite a bit of discussion of the new food safety bill, particularly about the requirements' potential impacts on small-scale food producers. Jon Stewart covered the bill in his inimitable way, though he did not mention this issue. See the clip here.

Highland Park 1994 Vintage

Highland Park, like many distilleries, has ventured into duty-free exclusive releases. In HP's case, they have taken a page from the Glenrothes and gone for vintage releases. On a recent trip I picked up the 1994 (a sixteen year old bottled at 40% alcohol by volume). Other options include a 1973, 1990 and a 1998. The color is a deep straw, bordering on apple juice (!) and it has a surprisingly light nose. If tasted blind, I might have mistaken this for a Canadian whiskey (like 40 Creek) or an Irish. It smells like it came from a refill bourbon barrel -- I detect no sherry influence. There is a hint of perhaps bubble gum, defintely some floral notes, biscuit and cereal. It has a chewy, but light texture on the palate. With water there is more honey, but it's still a bit anti-septic. This is a very clean and light Highland Park; a bit of a lightweight if you ask me.

Fannie Farmer

I mentioned this new book from Chris Kimball of America's Test Kitchen fame, Fannie Farmer's Last Supper, not that long ago. I've since seen Mr. Kimball talk about his adventures in researching the Victorian-era twelve-course meal and the final, grand adventure in bringing the whole thing together, including the severe fire hazard of a wood-burning stove at maximum heat in an old, wood-frame house. And I have read the book, which is a fun, informative, and quick read. If you are at all interested in how people prepared and ate food in the 19th and early 20th century, then this book is for you. My only gripe is that many of the recipes are not reproduced in the book, but are kept on the website. That's fine for now, though it means that the whole experience is not available in one source (unless you print out the recipes and fold them for storage in the book), but in the future when the website is defunct? The book no doubt will survive long after the website -- or am I just a luddite tilting at windmills?

Falling in love all over again

Sometimes you have a dram that makes you recognize why you fell in love with whiskey in the first place. Many whiskies are good, some even excellent, but only a few are so sublime, so wonderful, that they transport you to another place. Purple prose? Perhaps. But when it comes to the Bowmore Maltmen's Selection, it is true. We brought back bottle 1555 of 3000 from Islay this summer - a 13 year old sherry butt matured scotch distilled in 1995 and bottled at 54.6% abv in 2008. The color is copper or dark cider. The nose is deeply rich, nutty (hazel, Brazil). The sherry is a beautiful addition, not over-powering. There is some fine peat that works well with the sherry, unlike some overly sherried scotch I have had (Highland Park single casks, for instance). There is also cereal biscuit, orange peal and burned-down fire coals after they've been doused with water. Honey. The taste has some bite, plum sauce. With water,I get caramel sugar, molasses, balsa wood, and muscavado sugar. It has a deep, rich, long-lasting flavor. The water brings out a few floral notes and a bit of the sea, as well as citrus on the tongue. A dram to be savored, ever-so slowly, with undivided attention.

Another whisky event

There's a new (at least I think it's new) whisky event coming next spring. For a modest $500+, you get a ticket that includes a sampling of a 40 year old whisky such as Highland Park 40. Early bird price is $375. Here's the webpage for information on the Universal Whisky Experience, which still has a lot of information to be provided at a future date.

Is the duck worth the call?

I have mused in the past on whether a pricey bottle of name-your-drink was proportionally better than a more modestly priced product. I doubt I will be able to ever tell you whether the 70 year old Mortlach or the 55 year old Macallan are, or perhaps even some of the celebrated Bordeaux vintages (1945, 1961 and 1982 come to mind). I did get to try a more moderately priced, yet well-regarded wine from the Napa Valley recently, though, that got me thinking on this topic again. The wine in question is the 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon from Duckhorn Vineyards. A glass of this stuff would get you halfway to a subscription to Wine Spectator. It was indeed a satisfying and layered drink. The tasting notes that came on my coaster said it would have black raspberry and oaken cocoa. I don't know about oaken, but cocoa was certainly in evidence and it had a carbonated, almost Dr. Pepperish/cola taste at the tip of the tongue. The tannins were barely present. It was a mild cab, not the monsters that one might get at a steakhouse. Was it better than a $10 bottle? Certainly. How about some $30 bottles? Maybe, but not all. So, at $95 a bottle it might be pricey, but if you are offered a glass, don't turn up your nose at it.

The Organ Festival

The French have a special relationship with their food, something that has often been praised and celebrated by many foodies. One town takes it to another level by celebrating the many culinary exploits associated with offal. I meant to link to this when it first came out -- better late than never. The town of Limoges, home to many butchers even to this day, holds a festival called the Brotherhood of the Small Bellies (it must sound better in French). Book your tickets for next year's festival now, so you too can try the sheep testicles.

Cheese, cheese, and more cheese

The NYTimes has a front-page piece in the Sunday paper about the two sides of USDA -- one pushing for less saturated fat in American diets, and the other (through a semi-private organization largely funded by the private sector, but with some funding from the USDA) that is pushing the use of more cheese in food.

A Tale of Two Pastas

Most hotel restaurants are not known for having the greatest food in the world, especially those associated with a chain. On a recent trip to Brussels, I had lunch in the hotel on the day I arrived because I was too tired to venture forth to discover the neighborhood. I will refrain from identifying the hotel in particular, but it's origins are connected with Washington DC and has an eponymous founder. I would not normally write about it, but the contrast between the pasta I had at this restaurant and another one I had at a place down-town is instructive.

First, I should have known better than to order a dish in November that features asparagus and morel mushrooms. Asparagus's season by the time November rolls around is a good six months gone in the Northern Hemisphere. Morels are also a spring and early summer harvest. So, I should have known better, but even setting aside the lack of freshness in the ingredient that would indicate less than flavorful results, basic seasoning was missing as well. The slivers of Parmesan cheese were waxy and tasteless, the cream sauce lacked salt, pepper, or anything to liven it up. I made it through about one quarter of the dish before giving up (why waste calories on tasteless food?).

Kwint, on the other hand, had a rich home-made pasta dish with pan-seared foie gras (okay, this makes having lots of flavor kinda easy) and truffle shavings, well-seasoned and served in a perfect portion. Matched with an opening course of smoked Scottish salmon with lemon pearls (that look like caviar) and fresh pepper, the meal was a wonderful way to cap off an afternoon of tramping about down-town Brussels in the rain. The restaurant has the added benefit of sitting atop a small rise overlooking the city center.

Now the comparison of these two pastas may seem a bit unfair, but given that the price of the two was comparable (22 Euro for the asparagus paste, 25 Euro for the foie gras), the difference in flavor, execution and presentation was astounding.

Michter's Straight Rye

This is not a formal tasting of Michter's Straight Rye Whiskey as I partook under less than, ahem, laboratory conditions. That is, I sampled this fine whiskey while sitting with a friend at a bar in DC's West End. But, I felt I had to convey my impressions of the drink. It is a dark, deeply coppery rye and has the expected spicy, sweet, lively notes on the nose. This experience grows as one tastes it, demonstrating a surprisingly smooth and fully round taste on the tongue. It is a long-lasting, satisfying rye; the furthest from rotgut one can get with rye whiskey. Definitely seek this one out!

Virginia Single Malt

Yes, there really is such a thing as Virginia Single Malt whisky. Wasmund's comes from Copper Fox distillery in Sperryville. I have heard a lot over the last year or so about this distillery and was excited to try out their products. I will try the rye whisky at a later date, but I couldn't resist trying the single malt, which comes from a pot still. The whisky is bottled at 48% abv, and my bottle came from batch number 41, a 19 month old whisky that is aged in applewood, cherrywood and oak casks with chips. That probably explains the dark color after less than two years, which is pretty coppery. The main thing was the nose, which is quite powerful. And powerful not in the best way. I found it off-putting, like a piece of hard rubber that just overwhelmed anything else in the whisky. Even after more than 30 minutes in the glass, it was still pretty strong. The taste is all right, but that smell, oh that smell!

The new book about Ferran Adria

There's a pretty caustic review of the new biography of Spanish avant garde chef Ferran Adria in the New York Times today. It's actually quite amusing to read, in fact. The latest issue of Wine Spectator is more charitable, but still finds the descriptions of the dining experience lacklustre -- which they kindly put down to the impossibility of describing "genius", they say. I don't know if the review is fair to the book or not, though I have found the NYT pretty reliable, but it is nice to have a more definitive statement from a reviewer on whether a book is worth my time, money and effort to read.

Saturday night dinner

From Giorgio Locatelli's wonderful (and heafty) cookbook, a great fish dish that goes well with red wine. Cod on a bed of lentils and a parsley sauce to add some extra depth. The lentils are simmered in veggie stock with herbs (garden-grown sage and rosemary, and some store-bought bay leaves), pancetta, onion, carrot, leak and celery. The cod is simply cooked with some light oil in a non-stick skillet and finished with butter. The lentils are supposed to mimic a risotto in a way, providing a nice bed to set the lentils into without being too soupy. That puddle you see around the edge is a bit of the butter sauce from the pan I cooked the fish in. I was a little disappointed with having so much come out, but that may have been from having a tad too much vegetable oil in the skillet to start.

Macallan at the Aspen Food and Wine Festival

It's probably appropriate that one of the more pretentious single malts would end up at one of the more pretentious food and wine expos. Not that I am poo-poohing the two, but there is some logic in the pairing the two of them. It would be an interesting juxtaposition (clash?) if Bruichladdich, for example, showed up at Aspen -- particularly Jim McEwan! You can see a short video about it at the Macallan's US website: <a id="art6" name="art6"></a>Food & Wine Classic in Aspen

Fannie's Last Supper

Chris Kimball of America's Test Kitchen fame has a new project that is really cool -- making a 12 course Victorian era meal with period instruments so to speak. You can see a preview and pre-order the book here.

Port Ellen

The maltings at Port Ellen, taken from the ferry between the mainland and Islay.

Glenfarclas 21

Glenfarclas is a giant of the whisky industry, at least for a family-run distillery, now on its sixth generation. It has a very loyal following, which stands to reason as it continues to produce fine whisky at a very affordable price. Glenfarclas recently released a 40 year old at a price that many other distilleries would think twice about for their 25 year olds. The 21 year old is an accomplished, refined whisky that has a lot to offer to those willing to take the time to enjoy, savor, and explore this deceptive dram. I say deceptive, because it is an easy single malt to throw back and enjoy without really understanding its depth. But taking the time to explore its many smells and flavors will pay real dividends. It is bottled at a respectable 43%, and has a greeny-copper color. The undiluted nose has some smoke, old leather, shoebox and books from the back of the used book shop. I also get baked apple with crumble. The mouth is lighter and smooth with just a little burn. Once a little water goes in, it really opens up and displays its varied colors. The nose develops sweet candy, clover honey, sticky sap on a maple tree, and pine tar. None of these are overpowering, and they alternate coming to the fore. The body is still smooth and enjoyable, the finish long. An excellent dram.

Tasting Glen Grant

Another tasting from the Scotch Malt Whisky Society, this time a 21 year old Glen Grant from a refill hogshead, ex bourbon, bottled at 49.3% abv. This is the 45th bottling of Glen Grant for the good folks from the Leith Vaults. The color is quite light, perhaps straw. The nose has a nice chocolate note followed by sweet digestive biscuits, some vegetal notes, though sweet as well. Not at all off-putting, but also very similar to some younger bourbon-barrel Bowmores. There's some citrus in there, and I think I get the vanilla from the bourbon as well as nougat. On the tongue, it is tart and milderly tannic, but not a lot going on at first. With water bananas come to the front, with a rich smell. There is an ineffable quality about it, enjoyable indeed.

An apt description -- tasting a 12 year old Highland Park

The good folks at the Scotch Malt Whisky Society called their 137th bottling of Highland Park "Oooh! Ouch! Aaah!", which is pretty close to an apt description, particularly the middle of the three. Bottled at 58.7% abv, this refill sherry butt gave its all and then some to a rough and tumble single malt. The color is a copper-red, deep and luscious. The nose is powerful with notes of Marmite, organe peel, lemon rind (not the zest, though, which would be more pungent), and even sweet twizzler (not quite strawberry, but perhaps some cherry or grape juice like Welchs.) At the first taste, it is firey with some tannic qualities, and just a bit of sweetness like a fresh white grape off the vine. With time in the glass, it calms down quite a bit, but is still robust. The sherry notes come more to the front even without water, but some added water calms it more and the oloroso comes out. This is a brute of a whisky and needs some time in the glass, water, and a strong tongue with a smooth coating of teflon.

Are Craft Breweries Selling Out?

Some folks at the Atlantic are afraid of what the future of craft brews are, especially as larger conglomerates get in the game (er, Killians is actually a Coors product, so they are already in the game). You can see the commentary here: Are Craft Breweries Selling Out? - Food - The Atlantic. My take? Let's only worry about this when the quality of the beer suffers. And I don't think this is going to happen, because the conglomerates know there is a market here that is willing to pay more for quality and is not the Bud or Coors Light kind of crowd. If we look at the whisky industry, especially in Scotland, we can see that there is significant room for optimism. On the one hand, a number of small producers and non-conglomerate partnerships are around and doing well (Glenfarclas is still family owned, Bruichladdich is doing well under independent ownership) and the conglomerates (Diageo, Suntory) know they mess with a good thing at their peril, especially these days when a much broader consumer market is sophisticated and well-informed.

My first sourdough rye

Inspired by the Kneading conference, I started my own rye sourdough this past week using Daniel Leader's recipe ("formula" in the trade). This is a transitional bread in the sense that it uses some commercial yeast in addition to the sourdough starter, which I think is a good way to test the waters. It turned out quite well, as you can see. Hopefully as the starter matures more I can get stronger flavors and some more rise out of it.

Visiting Bowmore

Picking a favorite is often an arbitrary thing. Why is that your favorite book or movie or place to go on vacation? And favorites are fickle things -- they can change so often, though some are fanatical in their choices and hold onto them like rabid dogs. My favorite Scotch is Bowmore, though why it is so is a difficult thing to explain. I often find myself reaching for another whisky. Ardbeg is bolder. Aberlour is often more refined. Highland Park's saltiness is heightened. But Bowmore somehow speaks to me in ways that others do not. It is not as peaty as Ardbeg, but it is not as mild as Bunnahabhain. But being in the middle does not make Bowmore boring by any stretch.

When we took our recent vacation to Scotland, number one on my list was a visit to this "favorite" of distilleries on School Street in downtown Bowmore on the island of Islay. I signed us up for the exclusive tour, which originally was designed for corporate clients, but has now been opened up to the general public to choose. This is no ordinary distillery tour, and the price tag is the first to tell you this. I gladly signed Leslie and I up for 40 GBP per person to spend what ended up being more than three glorious hours touring the distillery on a bright, sunny day, tasting two Bowmores straight from the barrel in the famous warehouse number 1, and relaxing with almost the full range (up to the 25 year old) overlooking the bay.

The highlight of the tour for me, though, was indeed trying two Bowmores straight from the cask (see picture below of the two drams). One was an 11 year old bourbon matured in Heaven Hill barrels, the other a 15 year old oloroso sherry butt matured Bowmore. The color difference is striking and shows the influence of the wood on not just the taste. As the warehouse manager, Ginger Willie, said -- it just tastes better straight from the barrel (and I don't think that's because it is pre-tax whisky!).
The Bowmore line-up is more than the standard Legend, 12, 15 and 18 year old one sees in most stores. Also available to taste were the Feis Isle bottlings from the last two years (an 8 year old Bordeaux-finished Bowmore that was very pleasant and sweet and a 9 year old bourbon and wine matured whisky that was not my favorite, respectively), a 16 year old wine-finish (a bit strange) a 21 year old port-pipe matured whisky that was phenomenal, the maltman's selection (also fantastic) and the 25 year old. Sadly (but not surprisingly), the Bowmore gold, white and black were not available for tasting.

Kneading Conference

A few months ago I received an email from King Arthur Flour announcing they were a sponsor of this year's Kneading Conference in Maine. I thought "that looks interesting" and promptly moved on to other things. After casually mentioning this conference, geared towards a diverse audience of home bakers, small businesses and farmers interested in raising artisanal wheats and other grains, to my wife, she encouraged me to go, and I am glad I did.

The conference probably had 100 to 150 participants of diverse backgrounds and interests, though my unscientific calculation estimated the majority were home bakers (very advanced ones, though). It combined keynote addresses (one on each day), lectures, and demonstrations. And there were some minor celebraties (bakers are not quite in the Mario Battali celebrity chef orbit, but everyone knows Jeffery Hamelman and Ciril Hitz who is truly interested in baking.

Jeffery Hamelman delivers a keynote address

Ciril Hitz demonstrates how to use a cooling wood-fired oven

I came away from the conference inspired to try new things, with some good tips on a variety of issues, such as what to do with all that sourdough starter rather than throw it away (thanks Dusty -- the pancakes were awesome!) and how to calculate to achieve the proper dough temperature.

Dusty Downs explains sourdough starters

So what's your problem with blends?

I realized after my recent post on a few blended scotches that I probably needed to lay out more explicitly and coherently my take on blended scotch. Let's start with the purpose of a blend. You might think that it is obvious -- to be drunk. And you would be right, but only to a limited extent. The nature of a blend is to reflect its original purpose -- to provide a consistent and balanced product with a broad appeal. When Mr. Walker took over from his father in the grocery business, he realized that customers wanted a product that was consistent, not variable, from week to week. As the business of blends took off in the 19th century, and drinks like gin were seen as inconsistent and, potentially, lethal, the idea of a beverage accessible to a broad drinking public took hold. Hence the use of grain whiskies to provide a back-bone for blends that helps even out the fiery malts.

All of this is to say that blends create an enjoyable, drinkable beverage that can contain complex flavors and aromas, but generally are prized for the melding of flavors, not allowing them to stand out or dominate. But unique flavors and aromas are what draw me to a single malt. The smoky peatiness of an Islay. Talisker's pepperiness, which even the new make spirit has, announcing to the world exactly where it came from. The floral and honey notes of a Speysider. All of these announce a unique character and provide a medium to enjoy a slower pace of life contemplating its richness. Or just enjoying it with a good book. Blends, on the other hand, strike me as an "after work" de-stressor, something to be drunk neat or on the rocks or with water or soda, but to be drunk as an enjoyable, but often quickly consumed (not that I am advocating quick consumption) transition from the work-day to the after-hours, or to get things going at a dinner. And finally, they often just seem tad, well, boring.

So, take this all with a grain of salt and enjoy what you want to enjoy, when you want to enjoy it. These opinions are mine own, and therefore subject to reflect all my personal predilections and foibles.

Two Methods for Winning a Pie Crust Bake-Off - Food - The Atlantic

I am bad at making pie crusts, and deeply suspicious of people who claim to have fool-proof methods. Here's another attempt to give us ham-handed cooks a means to create the perfect crust: Two Methods for Winning a Pie Crust Bake-Off - Food - The Atlantic.

One other secret that I have heard works well to create a light, flaky crust is to add about a tablespoon or so of Vodka to the dough. When the crust bakes the alcohol evaporates, lifting the crust and causing flaking. No idea if this is true, but I think I got it from Cook's Illustrated, who are usually reliable (because they actually test their recipes... over, and over, and over again).

Three Blends

As a general rule, I tend not to drink blended whiskies all that often, the reason being traceable to the very reason blends gained their popularity in the first place. Since Ayrshire's John Walker developed the eponymous blend in the 19th century, blended whiskies have dominated the market-place, accounting for 90% of Scotch whisky sales by most reckoning. The advantage of blends is their consistency, and their smoothness next to the often fiery and volatile single casks. In fact, the popularity of single malts and single casks is a relatively recent phenomenon. All this is introduction, of course, to the tasting of three blended whiskies, which still dominate the marketplace. If you are looking for a good, quality drink that will consistently delivery the goods, then a blend is for you. (Which one is a different question all-together). The reason I tend not to drink them is that I find it difficult to pick out striking flavors and smells in them, which shows how well the different characteristics have been brought into balance.

The three blends I am writing about today, unfortunately, are not available in the US to my knowledge. First up is the Black Grouse, a peated version of the Famous Grouse that I picked up a few months ago in the duty free in the Netherlands. Bottled at 40% ABV, the Black Grouse is a peated version of this blend. It has a some phenolic qualities on the nose, wisps of smoke, green veg, and perhaps some mint? This is definitely Grouse, though, no doubt about it. It is sweet tasting, with light spice, oranges and marmalade. With water it dies a little bit (at 40% ABV to start, one should be careful when adding water). The spice kicks in a bit and there are more jams and marmalade. Quite a good drink; one to rival Johnnie Walker Black Label.

Next up is the famous (in some quarters) Black Bottle, which is apparently a blend of the Islay whiskies, and claims Bunnahabhain as its spiritual home. Also bottled at 40% ABV, this one has a buttery chardonnay color. The nose is yeasty, and masculine. There's some savory candy, but it seems a little watery and washed out (might be because of its 40% bottling strength). On the tongue it is round, with a lighter body, smokey and drying flavor. It is quite nice; a warming dram in which I can definitely detect the Bunnahabhain (it's at this point that someone is supposed to pop up and tell me that the bottle I have is a mistake that contains no Bunnahabhain... no one? Okay, on we go.)

Finally we have a smaller-scale blend from Loch Fyne whiskies in Inverary, Scotland. Own-label whiskies are quite common across the pond, and this one in particular was surprisingly good. Surprisingly? Well, perhaps I wrote too soon, because this small shop in the middle of the Inverary high street (which is a bit garish and touristy) is a gem in its own right and a serious place to buy whisky (not least demonstrated by the 20cl bottle of 70 year old Mortlach on sale in a locked, glass case). The Loch Fyne blend is a darker whisky than the Black Bottle, more a golden-copper. It has a light floral nose, with more alcohol, even though it is also bottled at 40%. There's some honey, and it is much thicker on the tongue than the Black Bottle, and chewy. I think there might be some young Bowmore in here because I get some chewy, bourbon-aged Bowmore with plastic and rubber hose. This is lovely stuff actually that I dare not dilute, because it is so drinkable straight from the bottle. It leaves just a bit of fire and spice on the roof of my mouth. With water it gets more honey and smoke on the nose. This one is very close to being like the Johnnie Walker Black -- it's the smoke that does it, see?

Each of these is an enjoyable blend in its own right, and would find a welcome place in my glass at the end of a long, hard day.

What makes for a delicious steak?

The old adage says that good fat is what makes a steak good. It turns out that the famous marbling that we look for in a steak (and that the USDA uses to grade meat) is not in fact the best indicator for flavor (but was the only one that seemed to correlate well when the system was developed decades ago). Read this article -- Why Fat Doesn't Make for Flavorful Steak - Food - The Atlantic -- to find out about the latest research on it. Turns out it's fat you can't see that matters, and (not a big shocker) the way the animal is raised that impacts flavor.

I wonder what this tastes like?

Seen on our recent trip... a 52 year old Bowmore cask. It turns out this belongs to a family that bought the whiskey from Bowmore many decades ago and paid to have it cellared in the famous vaults, but then disappeared and Bowmore has not been able to contact the family in many years.

Kilchoman Spring 2010

Kilchoman, the youngest (distillery founded 2005) of the Islay whiskies, is not yet available in the US, but should be arriving on these shores in the fall. Meanwhile, I picked up a bottle of the Spring 2010 release while on Islay on our recent vacation. This release was aged three years in bourbon barrels and finished for 3 and a half months in oloroso sherry. The color, as one would expect, is a light gold. On the nose I get grain, smoke and a slight hint of sherry. There is a cloying sweetness there. The taste is round, spicy, drying smokiness with a touch of heat. Once I added water the nose calmed a bit, coming across as a softer, light smoke. There's dry sherry, perhaps candy? (Later in the week I swear it started to have a Dr. Pepper flavor to it). The taste is still spicy, with a long finish and a round mouth-feel. For a young whisky it is quite good, but I would love to see this with a bit more age on it to see how it rounds out. I don't think it has the depth and complexity of flavor yet that it really needs to be an outstanding whisky. This one is worth seeking out, however, when it comes to the States.

Tasting Three Bowmores

I have been saving this one for a while, and since I will shortly be visiting this famed distillery (the oldest on Islay), I thought I should put my notes up on three darned good whiskies produced on the shores of Loch Indaal. Two of these are independant bottlings -- one from the great Berry Bros and Rudd (which I purchased last year while in London along with their Blue Hanger) and the other from the Scotch Malt Whisky Society. The third is an official bottling in the limited edition series.

The first up is the Berry Bros bottling of a 1989 vintage Bowmore at 19 years old. This was one of four bottlings from Bowmore they had last year (a 9 year old, I think, a 14, this one and a 21 year old) and the one that impressed me the most. It's bottled at 53.5% and has a very light color like pinot grigio. The nose is medicinal with light smoke and varnished wood. Without water the whiskey is wonderfully smokey and pungent. With water it becomes a beautiful, sweet-smelling whiskey with floral notes, brown sugar, vanila, orange peel and candied peel. It is rounder and smoother on the tongue with a smokey, long finish. Of the three Bowmores here, this one was the sweetest, but not in a sickly way.

Next up is the Scotch Malt Whisky Society bottling of a 21 year old distilled in December 1987 and aged in a refill bourbon hogshead (I believe all three here are bourbon aged). This one is slightly lower in alcohol (50.8%) and has a similar pinot grigio color. The nose is a little deeper than the BBR bottle, with plastic, light smoke and a rounder, meatier mouthfeel. With water the smoke becomes more prominent and I get more ocean smells. The taste reminds me a bit of fish sauce (not in a bad way) and it is still quite meaty with fine kippers and beach smells.

Finally there is the official Bowmore 16 year old, distilled in 1989 and bottled in 2005 at 51.8% alcohol. The color is the lightest of the bunch and comes from predominantly bourbon casks, but is not a single-cask like the other two. Is that marmite on the nose? Wait a moment, give it some time. It has a lighter mouthfeel than the others, but is still quite meaty and explosive on the tongue when taken full strength. With water... oh what sweet nectar this is! I get apricots, pears, all sorts of nice fruit and light smoke on the nose. The taste is round, with a bit of plastic and quite chewey. A very satisfying dram.

All in all, these three demonstrate how great Bowmore can be. I can't pick a favorite (and I have subsequent to making these notes finished the BBR -- which I first opened at Christmas -- and the SMSW bottlings).

Memorial Day Cookin'

Last weekend I embarked on a couple of experiments in the kitchen in addition to a good old stand-by. First, on the baking front I made soft pretzels for the first time, using a recipe from Peter Reinhart's latest book, Artisan Breads Every Day. The pretzel dough is mixed and kneaded the night before and then cold ferments in the fridge. Shaping them was pretty easy, actually, though I did not get a consistent thickness across the 17-19 inches of dough after I rolled them out. They are dipped in a baking soda and water bath before baking, which I think did make for a distinctive flavor, I think, that I did not find off-putting, but was slightly on the odd side. The pretzels developed better the next day, but I think I will try mixing in some whole wheat flour next time (the recipe calls for bread flour only) to add a layer of flavor to the mix. The recipe also calls for an optional egg white mixed in with the water and baking soda to add shine, which I will also try next time. Overall, though, they were pretty good for home-made pretzels.

In addition to the pretzels, I also made a basic bread loaf with a similar recipe that is really easy and quite flavorful -- mix up all the ingredients (all four -- flour, salt, yeast, and water) the night before, cold ferment and then shape and retard the next day. Bung in the oven on a stone and 30-40 minutes later you have a great loaf of bread (see the picture for both the pretzels and the bread with a piece already sawn off!)

Finally, I made BBQ spare ribs for Memorial Day. I am normally a smoker of baby backs, but these spare ribs were from Groff's Content Farm and I decided I did not want to spend the 7 hours probably required to smoke them properly. So, I went with BBQ instead, which involves putting a restaurant pan with the charcoal in the center of my smoking chamber and arranging the ribs on either side to enjoy some indirect heat. It's actually a very easy way to make them, and takes about 2 1/2 to 3 hours to get done. The meat won't be falling off the bone; some chewing is required, but they were good none-the-less. I used a rub from Cook's Illustrated's grilling book, which I think had too much cumin in it for my taste, but the BBQ sauce was excellent, especially with chipotle chile powder in place of regular chile powder (I leave the cayenne pepper out because of family members who have a sensitivity to it).

Monsanto's Seeds

Excellent article in Fortune this month on the patent issues surrounding Monsanto's Round-up Ready seeds and other agri-tech. You can read the full article here.

What if Local Food Isn't Actually Best? - Food - The Atlantic

In this posting on The Atlantic's food blog (What if Local Food Isn't Actually Best? - Food - The Atlantic), I think the thought falls into the no duh category, but I could be missing something. The central idea is that we should not become obsessed with being locavores to the extreme that we are not supporting a regional approach -- as if the only choices were either national (and international) distribution or eating foods produced only within 100 (or 150 or 200) miles from our homes. I tend to distrust such binary choices to begin with, but it is worth at least explicitly and constantly challenging the idea that we only have two choices.

Macallan Blog: On the road with Masters of Photography, Albert Watson and our Director of Malts Ken Grier

Check out this new series over the next week, called On the road with Masters of Photography, Albert Watson and our Director of Malts Ken Grier, which starts with a trip to Jerez, Spain to see how sherry barrels are put together. The Macallan actually pays for making many sherry barrels themselves and then loans them to the sherry producers in order to guarantee they will have a secure supply for aging the whisky.

Jura Superstition

Jura is the only whisky on this island just a stone's throw from Islay. The distillery has a long history, though its working has been interrupted at various points. The modern incarnation dates to 1963 when the rebuilt distillery began production. Jura's Superstition is advertised as the smokey version of the classic malt, but to be honest I got very little smoke from my tasting. The color is a deep copper and the nose is quite closed at first. There are some light sherry notes, not the peat or smoke I expected. Without water (it's bottled at 43% ABV), the whisky is round and smooth, with some spice and a drying aftertaste like the tannins from nuts (Brazil, filberts). With water the scotch releases some woody notes, still the light sherry, and maybe peach fuzz. After 45 minutes or so in the glass it gets sweeter and smoother, but overall I found it an underwhelming drink.

A young Laphroaig

On a recent trip to the local liquor store, I overheard someone explain to his friend that older whiskies/wines/whatever are better than younger ones. This eight year old Laphroaig from the Scotch Malt Whisky Society proves this is wrong. Despite its short time in the barrel, this is vintage Lapgroaig -- it has a light pinot grigio-like color and weighs in at 58.2% ABV (it comes from a refill hogshead ex-bourbon cask). The nose has the trademark smoke and iodine of Laphroaig, but also biscuits, wet stones on a cold beach, weather-beaten leather (I kid you not!), citrus peel and just a faint whiff of sea-weed. With water it develops an unlit cigarette smell and sweet maple, with an undertone of campfire smoke. It is a powerful, yet sweet whisky that explodes on the tongue without water (as you would expect at this alcohol level), but calms down considerably without losing the complex flavors as you add water. This is one of those whiskies that you will never find exactly the same profile for again, but wish you had bought a case of when you had the chance.

Yamazaki 12 year old

Yamazaki is one of the very few Japanese whiskies you can buy in the United States, which is a shame, given the growing reputation Japan has for producing many and varied whiskies of quality. The Yamazaki comes from Suntory (of Lost in Translation fame, yes) and is bottled at 43% alcohol by volume. It is a light straw-gold color and has a sweet, biscuity nose with some floral notes. Before adding water, the whisky has some spice, but is very smooth and easily drinkable without further dilution. Once I added water, the biscuits were still there, but the floral notes die down to be replaced by some more honey notes, and hints of smoke. It seems like a Canadian whisky with more backbone and character (sorry, Canada). A very pleasant drink, if simple and unchallenging to the palate.

Bordeaux

Today's New York Times has a piece about the falling popularity of Bordeaux wines. I think Bordeaux does suffer from a reputation set by the big boys (Ch. Margaux and all them), the bewildering array of below classification wines (i.e., not first or fifth growths) -- quite a few of them not very good and more expensive than wines from other regions -- and a stodgy image. After all, who wants to put down $35 for a bottle that turns out to be just average (or even$70), when some Yellow Tail is $8 and goes down a treat?

So what happened to all the whisky?

I noticed that most of my recent posts have been about food safety, sustainable agriculture, and the like. These are all very important issues and ones I continue to follow, but fear not, I will have some real whisky reviews and other things for you shortly. In fact, I have a flight of Bowmores that I will put up shortly, the Yamazaki 12 year old and a 23 year old Mortlach for you to ponder soon. I have made a pledge, though, to reduce my consumption of alcohol to one night during the week, so there may be gaps between tastings in the future again.

For Animals, Grass Each Day Keeps Doctors Away - Food - The Atlantic

A response to a previous posting at the Atlantic on the relative safety of pastured versus confined animals. Good read: For Animals, Grass Each Day Keeps Doctors Away - Food - The Atlantic

Is Free-Range Meat Making Us Sick? - Food - The Atlantic

It is worthwhile asking whether alternatives to industrial farming also carry risks for consumers, as this post from the Atlantic does: Is Free-Range Meat Making Us Sick?. Some of the comments are interesting and (semi-) informative. I suppose that vegetarianism is one answer, but as one commenter pointed out, even veggies can carry diseases. When it comes to pork, though, there is a relatively easy way to deal with trichinosis (cook the heck out of your meat, or at least to a suitable temperature to kill the bug).

Round-up Resistant Weeds

I meant to link to this article in the NYT about new "Super weeds" that are resistant to the most common pesticides. The NYT also has a running commentary on it here. I think it only takes a rudimentary knowledge of evolutionary theory to realize this was bound to happen -- weeds adapting to withstand pesticides we develop.

A Shepherd of the Vines

I liked this article about the farmer in Sonoma valley who deliberately plants and grows vines that cannot be picked by machine. Read it the article here: A Shepherd of the Vines - Food - The Atlantic

Farming in America

Michael Pollan is probably one of the most widely known writers on food, sustainability and farming, but he is by no means the first (and maybe not the best). I've recently read two books that highlight that there is much more out there to read on the subjects. The first actually has Michael Pollan writing the preface, noting his intellectual debt to Wendell Berry, a Kentucky-based farmer and writer. His collection of essays, Bringing it to the Table: On Farming and Food, spans some three decades of writing and acknowledges along the way his debt to another writer before him, Sir Albert Hayward, revealing how a long line of writing and debate has occured over at least the last seventy years demonstrating that our current debate over organic versus conventional, agribusiness versus sustainability is nothing new. We have been lamenting the demise of the family farm since the 1950s, at least, and wondering whether the method of farming we have migrated towards is sustainable economically, ecologically, and socially for at least as long.

Which makes me wonder whether the renewed interest is sustainable itself, or is it a passing fad that will remain of interest to only a few, while the bulk of the population continues to remain (often blissfully) ignorant of the true state of agriculture and food production in America. And yet the other book I read, Lisa Hamilton's Deeply Rooted: Unconventional Farmers in the Age Agribusiness, somehow gives me hope, because she shows that life is tough, but manageable on farms that are outside the mainstream. I found it particularly attractive in her book that she is not as romantic about the family farm or the iconoclast. It strikes me that we can too easily romanticize the small-scale, family farmer who refuses to use GMO seeds or fertilize their fields with thousands of pounds of industrial nitrogen while collecting tons of cow manure in a concrete basin that poisons water tables. These are not tales from Hollywood movies, but real people who have made real choices about what their lives mean. The choices farmers make are not easy, and there are broader questions of the ability of a growing population to feed itself over the long term if all agriculture were to migrate back to a former paradigm or continue on its current path of "get big or get out."

The best part of these books is that they are deeply human stories that don't glorify the independent farmer as a white knight or a David seeking to fell agribusiness's Goliath with one blow. Rather, the books show that it is possible to go one's own way and maintain a sustainable life on a farm; it just takes choosing that lifestyle and ignoring the idea that well-being only comes from seeing the farm as factory, as opposed to the complex social system it should be recognized to be.

Our summer vacation

Our summer vacation is shaping up nicely, and will include a trip to Islay with tours of Bowmore and Ardbeg distilleries (we will also stop by Laphroiag, I imagine, since it's very close to Ardbeg). Then it's off to the Grampians and other parts of the Highlands for some hiking. I can hardly wait!

Defending Grass-Fed Beef: A Rancher Weighs in - Food - The Atlantic

Nicolette Niman (of Niman Ranch fame) defends grass-fed beef. Key passage: "zeroing in on a single environmental consequence is nonsensical. (Since rice farming contributes as much as 29 percent of the world's anthropogenic methane, one may well wonder why she is not urging us to cut back our rice consumption.) As with all foods, the environmental impact of beef varies widely, depending on many factors." Hail, hail! Let's stop using one data point to make sweeping conclusions. Her post is at the Atlantic: Defending Grass-Fed Beef: A Rancher Weighs in - Food - The Atlantic

Genetically Modified Crops

The US farming industry has fallen in love with genetically modified crops, in part because they have developed strains that are resistant to one of the most common pesticides (kill the bugs, keep the plant) and some can even produce their own resistance to pests. The National Research Council has issued a new report on this, as reported in today's New York Times.

The Raw Milk Debate: Don't Have a Cow - Food - The Atlantic

Most people probably haven't heard much about the debate surrounding raw milk, but it is an interesting one that pits those who think the less-refined a product is the better it is, and those who advocate a safety-first mindset. I would be curious to try raw milk (unhomogenized, unpasteurized), but it is illegal in Maryland in any form. I'd have to go to Pennsylvania to get it, if I even knew where, and the key issue is to find a supplier you trust. The modern market-place is founded on the principle that we don't have to know the producer of individual agricultural products well enough to establish trust -- we've replaced it for the sake of economy and scale with a regulatory system overseen by the USDA and FDA. The Atlantic has a good piece on it at the following link: The Raw Milk Debate: Don't Have a Cow - Food - The Atlantic

Fresh tomatoes -- year round

Fascinating article on the New York Times this past week on greenhouse tomatoes that provide ripe, flavorful tomatoes year-round. Despite all the efforts to make it as green as possible, the energy required for the lamps is an eye-opener.

Ardbeg Corryvreckan

I forget whether the new Corryvreckan is supposed to replace the Airigh Nam Beist or the Uigeadail, but in either case, this is certainly something different from the beefiest of Islay whiskies. The Corryvreckan has a light nose with some slight floral notes. Without water it is sweet on the tongue, with notes of menthol and charcoal. With water it has notes of burnt fruitcake and mild peat. This is a younger, fresher smelling Ardbeg. It gets smoother with water. It's powerful like other Ardbegs, but slightly tamer in some ways. It reminds me a bit of some young Bowmores, just without the plastic.

Pasta for dinner

I made a quick pasta dish for dinner tonight. From the Silver Spoon's pasta cookbook, this one is a simple meat sauce with small macaroni that basically is a quick bolognese sauce that takes less than thirty minutes to make. Make sure to reserve some pasta water to add volume to the sauce. I also added more milk than the recipe called for in order to ensure I had enough to coat the pasta.

A conundrum

The good folks (thanks Patrick!) at the Wine Specialist have secured me a bottle of Ardbeg Corryvrecken. Now the problem is when do I open these great whiskies, given how difficult it is to secure a bottle? Should I do an Ardbeg tasting? (The ten, Rollercoaster, and Corryvrecken?) Or one at a time. Truly a conundrum (and luckily one of the few I have to wrestle with these days!)

How Obama Sold the Farm - Food - The Atlantic

The Atlantic has an opinion piece about the new agricultural trade negotiator in the Office of the Trade Representative. The nub of the piece is the disappointment with Obama using a recess appointment to put a former pesticide lobbyist in the job. Read the piece on How Obama Sold the Farm - Food - The Atlantic, if only to get one opinion on the issue.

Irish whiskey

John Hansell recently asked what is Irish whiskey on his blog. It's a good question in some respects, because supposedly everyone "knows" what Scotch is or Bourbon (never mind that there can be quite a bit of variation within those categories). A generalization is that Irish whiskey is triple distilled, while scotch is double distilled (actually, several scotches are triple distilled, including Auchentoshan), and a much lighter, fruitier drink. Actually, Irish whiskey can have quite a bit of variation, including the Connemara from Cooley.

Connemara is a peated single malt that looks a bit like a rich chardonnay in the glass. I found it had an incredibly fresh, sweet nose like fresh apples and just a light undertone of smoke. It bursts on the tongue with a little spice and lots of fruit, maybe pear. At 40% abv, this is quite drinkable without any water added, but a little water does release some more floral notes in the background. The sweetness dominates, though, coming closer to a vidal blanc or similar white wine with some residual sugar. This whiskey is light and elegant, despite a short finish. Although peated, it is not anywhere near the levels of an Ardbeg, Bowmore or Laphroaig. That said, the peat is definitely there -- just enough to tease and please.

Fewer, but busier bees

For those who haven't heard about the potential crisis in bee colony collapses, here's an op-ed in today's New York Times that discusses the problem and its impact.

In Rural Vermont, From Famine to Fork - Food - The Atlantic

I have to admit that I could probably happily spend most of my time reading about the culinary and agricultural revolution that is in the offing. Here's one on a small town in rural Vermont that a very reliable source tells me is the butt of many a joke.

In Rural Vermont, From Famine to Fork - Food - The Atlantic

Who's got a ticket to ride... the rollercoaster?

I do, I do! So excited to snag a bottle of the new Ardbeg Committee bottling called Rollercoaster. I can't wait to try it.

Johnnie Walker Blue label

You spend enough money on something, you expect to be blown away, or at least to be suitably impressed. Blue Label is one of those whiskies. Geared towards the high-end market, you can spend upwards of $200 a bottle for this blend of "finest rare whiskies." (It's actually not since the Blue Label George V edition has older and rarer whiskies). So inevitably perhaps, Blue Label disappoints. I have tried tiny samples before and not gotten much out of it, but I figured it was worth another go with a bottle sold at close to a bargain price (and earning 10 to 1 frequent flier miles in duty free!).

Blue is quite smooth as one would expect, but the promised smoke is much subtler than promised and the spice goes in and out. It would be unfair to compare it to a single malt, so I take the other concoctions from Hiram Walker and sons as a bench-mark instead, especially the ubiquitous black label and the refined gold (12 and 18 year old blends, respectively). The 12 is livelier, as one would expect, but also well balanced, whereas the gold's smoothness is indistinguishable (to this amateur's palate) from the blue. So, although Blue is a fine whisky, it's nothing to rave about. I would suggest investing your money in three bottles of gold or five to six bottles of black (or some combination thereof) instead.

Cows Need Grass, and USDA Agrees

Sanity prevails over vested interests. See the link below for the latest on USDA guidelines for organic raising of cows. Now if we can only get the same logic applied to "pasture access provided" chicken eggs...

Cows Need Grass, and USDA Agrees: "How consumers, farmers, and advocates teamed up to convince the government to change the rules...."

Canadian Whiskies

Canadian whiskeys used to be the number one consumed whiskies in the US, particularly during Prohibition, but in the latest whisky boom, they have fallen a bit behind their US, Scottish, and even Japanese counterparts. I am not a seven and seven guy, so I have had little exposure to the tender liquid of the north. I tried two Canadians recently -- the Canadian Club six year old and the much heralded 40 Creek Premium Barrel Select. The Canadian Club was not my favorite, to say the least. Both whiskies have similar copper coloring, but Canadian Club's nose is almost pure rubbing alcohol. When I smell it, I think cotton swabs and doctors' offices. Not a good thing. The 40 Creek also has an slight alcoholic smell like rubbing alcohol, but much subtler and rounded. On the tongue it is oily, viscous and has some malty sweetness. Not a robust whisky, but a decent dram. The Canadian Club, on the other hand, is sharper, with a little spice, but not pleasant. All in all, I didn't find either one especially to my liking, but I can see the attraction that the 40 Creek holds for fans of lighter Canadian whiskeys.

Brisket

Made brisket last night. I find that BBQ brisket is usually dry and uninteresting. Dull, listless, and lacking in flavor. So I go with a braising technique that includes equal weight of brisket and onions that turns out sweet and savory at the same time (hat tip: Cooks Illustrated). Over a bed of rice and with some nice broccoli on the side? Heaven, pure heaven (helps to uncork a good bottle of wine or some hoppy beer).

Turkey Day 2009

Yeah, so I am a little behind on my blogging about various things, including showing you how my heritage bird turned out on Thanksgiving. Quite well, thank you very much. A ten pound bird from Groff's Content Farm in Maryland with a citrus-herb rub turned out moist, delicious and (most importantly) evenly cooked between white and dark meat, which is not a simple thing on a turkey.

Bread Success

I finally had some success recently with making a ciabatta with real holes. Most of my bread has turned out very well in terms of flavor, but ciabatta is known for its large holes created in the retarding process. The holes come from the folding technique with a very wet dough that gives space for carbon dioxide to build up as the yeast processes the sugars in the dough. My doughs have for some reason ended up with a much tighter crumb (i.e., no holes), but Peter Reinhart's new book, Artisan Breads Every Day, seemed to do the trick. When I find where that photo went, I will post it.

Vermont Dining

We just returned from a long weekend in Vermont recently, spending five wonderful days near Sugarbush. We stayed at the Inn at the Round Barn in Waitsfield, which is a great place a little off the beaten track. The staff is very friendly and helpful, and the three-course breakfasts give you plenty of energy to make it through a rough day of cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, or alpine skiing. And at the end of that long active day, warm cookies and appetizers await you on your return.

The Mad River Valley also has some excellent restaurants, from the humble to the refined. On our first night, we ate at the Big Picture Theater & Cafe, which adds a whole new dimension to movie-theater cuisine. We were there on a mid-winter weeknight, so there weren't the usual pasta, vegetarian, and other specials, but the remainder of the menu was still quite impressive. I had a quarter chicken with french lentils. Any time you add bacon to lentils, you have something grand. The chicken was moist and well seasoned. Only the Roma tomatoes were listless and lacking in flavor, but then I have no idea where they came from given that Vermont is not known for its winter tomatoes. Leslie had the chili and a Switchback ale, both of which hit the spot.

Halfway between "downtown" Waitsfield and Warren, Vermont, is the relatively new Terra Rossa Ristorante, which has some of the best thin-crust pizza I have ever had. The bruschetta is also well done, and the salads are fresh and appropriately dressed (that is, not dripping with dressing, as opposed to sporting evening wear). And it is all reasonably priced.

Saturday night was the big night out, when we headed to the Common Man, just a little further up the mountain from Terra Rossa. The restaurant is in a spacious, high-roofed barn-like cabin with a strange touch of Dom Perignon bottles signed by their respective consumers ringing the beams. Dinner was slightly put off by some bozo next to us (sounding like a dead-ringer for Richard Dreyfus) spouting off about late night TV politics all night. The food, though, is excellent. I had perfectly cooked duck breast with chestnuts and cherry reduction. The accompanying risotto was a bit thick and porridge-like for my taste, and my red and golden beet salad was obviously just pulled from the fridge (please, please, please let those salads come to room temperature so I can taste something!). Leslie had a duck confit cassoulet that was rich, satisfying and warming. We washed it all down with a pleasant bottle of Russian River Valley Pinot Noir from J Winery. After all that, we couldn't force any dessert on ourselves and waddled back to the car.

Our final stop on this culinary tour (besides lunch at the Burlington Airport, that was above standard airport fare) was at the Green Cup Cafe for dinner on Sunday. Chef/owner Jason Gulisano is obviously accomplished and is integrally part of the local foods movement. We had some grilled squid, perfectly done and lightly seasoned, and Portuguese sardine for starters, which showed how a light touch can bring out the flavors and beauty of ocean product. Leslie had a halibut for her main, which was well done, but the plate had about 9 or 10 elements that made for too much on the plate. I had braised rabbit with noodles that was satisfying, though the rabbit by itself would have been too dry, and the side pate on a crostini seemed out of place. The cucumber salad was refreshing. We rounded out the meal with a small tasting of local cheeses, some of which were very well done, though the Von Trapp cheese was a bit chalky.

On our way back to the airport, we stopped at the Vermont Liberty Tea Company, whose tea we had tried at the bed and breakfast. Although a modest establishment, the proprietor has a wealth of knowledge and has traveled widely. From the lemon Rooibos to the Keemun, all the teas were excellent.

Bowmore Tempest 10 Year Old

After reading on John Hansell's blog about Bowmore's new limited edition, ten-year old Tempest, I was interested in getting ahold of a bottle. After corresponding with the good folks at Morrison-Bowmore, however, they tell me that this first release will not be available in the States, but they hope future releases of this annual bottling will be. I can hardly wait!

Crispy Duck in my Scotch?

I've been enjoying the first bottle of scotch from my new membership in the Scotch Malt Whisky Society of America, an 11 year old from the Isle of Arran. For those note familiar with the SMWSA and it's parent (now owned by Glenmorangie, Plc) the Scotch Malt Whisky Society, the society bottles single casks from more than 120 different distilleries (largely in Scotland, but also a few from Japan, I believe) and distributes these one-of-a-kind bottlings to members of the society. The catch is that the bottlings are not identified by name, but by a numbering system (this first bottle I received is number 121.30) that started out from an agreement to not advertise the origins of the whisky in order to maintain access to a broad array of distilleries. That said, the hints are often quite heavy as to the origin, and a number of other writers (such as Jim Murray and Serge Valentin) have freely identified the distilleries in their reviews.

The society also seems to have a lot of fun with devising tasting notes to put on the bottle. This Arran, for instance, coming at 11 years of age and bottled at 55.6% abv is described as "crispy aromatic duck and Waldorf salad." Well, Waldorf salad is quite a stretch, but the crispy duck I can see once I get into the glass. The color is bronzy-gold and the un-diluted nose is burnt sugar, varnish, rose petals and, yes, glazed chicken or duck -- Asian style, not French. I get surprisingly little nose prickle on this one, and its mouth feel is quite round, spicy, with some citrus notes at the end. With water, the nose develops more caramel or taffy, more flowers, honeysuckle, and butterscotch. I also get turpentine, but not in a bad way. The taste is still spicy and austere, but with more honey coming through. An enjoyable dram, but not a stunner.

The Frozen Chosen

Some folks in New England have an innovative approach to saving heritage breeds of various animals from the fainting goat to the Gulf Coast ram. They've created a fertility bank to cryogenically freeze sperm and eggs from these breeds. Read more about it here at the New York Times.