San Francisco Giants fans have a slew of wine choices at Oracle Park. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Wine and baseball? Who knew it could be a winning combination.
Such was the outcome on Memorial Day when the Giants won 14-4 as I sipped a can of wine.
It had been way too long since I witnessed such an offensive onslaught in person. The weather was perfect, the entertainment outstanding, and the adult beverage refreshing.
I opted for wine instead of beer because I had read Oracle Park, home of the San Francisco Giants, is beefing up its wine game.
Last fall the Giants hired master sommelier Evan Goldstein. (There are only 269 master sommeliers in the world.) This was a first in Major League Baseball. The Giants reportedly were the first to even serve wine at a stadium when they introduced the fermented grape in 1977 at Candlestick Park.
Goldstein’s goal, according to the Santa Rosa Press Democrat, is to increase wine sales from 80,000 glasses a year to 100,000 this season.
Learning that wine and baseball fit like a glove. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
While beer still seemed to be the adult beverage of choice based on the number of kiosks and cups in hands, Oracle Park has a wine bar on every level. I didn’t walk around enough on this particular day to see what, if any, differences might be between them.
What I found was wine was available at multiple locations. Or course the choices were not abundant at each kiosk.
I opted for a can of She Can. I liked the name. I had never had wine in a can before. Never had wine at a baseball game before.
The California white—that’s what it’s called—was refreshing on this warm day. And a can, well, that’s like two pours so that was a nice bonus. It made the $15.25 more palatable. Wine on tap was $14, but I don’t know what was on tap. A carafe would have set me back $57.
While the sommelier intends to do some pairings in the future—not sure that will be for the average fan or those who pay more for their tickets or for players. I had organic tater tots with my wine. (I used to be an ardent fan of garlic fries, but have finally said they aren’t good anymore and cost way too much money.)
Clearly, ballparks are not meant to be healthy experiences. OK, they can be, but I choose for them not to be.
I don’t know if I will make my rounds through the wine choices at my next games. I might go back to beer just because that is my ritual. But a night game, well, a robust red might just be more appealing than a cold beer. Oh, the hard decisions in life.
Whatever I’m drinking, let’s just hope the Giants win.
Nuts came in all different forms including liquid at the May 13 festival. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Whole nuts, nut hummus, nuts in ice cream, flavored nuts, candied nuts, nuts turned into milk, nuts in salad, nuts in rice. After a day at the annual California Nut Festival I definitely felt nuttier.
I suppose what was missing was nut flavored wine and beer, but I’m pretty sure that was a good thing. The local non-nut infused adult beverages were wonderful to wash down all the nuttiness.
This festival started in Chico in 2006. After all, the city is known for its walnuts and almonds. (The l is silent if you are in the ag business, so that would be pronounced am-unds.)
This was my first time to try red walnuts.
“Red walnuts are not genetically modified. Instead, they were created using natural methods of grafting Persian red-skinned walnuts onto larger and creamier English walnuts. To retain their red color, they should be shelled by hand,” according to the Bertagna Nut Company website. This Chico company was at the festival sharing red walnuts with people. “Machine shelling causes the red layer to dull and chip. These nuts are larger in size and the shells are a little harder than other walnut varieties, while their trees grow slower. Since there are limited amounts of producing trees, these rare walnuts are currently only found in high-end stores, some farmer’s markets, and online.”
I didn’t realize how special they were until after the fact. I suppose if I were a nut connoisseur, I would have realized in the moment to have appreciated the rarity of the red nut.
Learning about the various types of walnuts. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Considering this particular Saturday was in the 90s, cold beer and ice cream were some of my favorites. Tiny glasses from Mulberry Station, Feather Falls Brewing and Farmers Brewing all quenched my thirst.
I preferred Shubert’s pistachio to their toasted almond ice cream.
Bacio’s Catering had a delightful wild rice concoction with a minimal amount of nuts.
The thing is I usually don’t like nuts in my food. After an afternoon of crunching my way through various samples, I might have to rethink that.
Lots of cheese was available, but that was not the best considering it’s hard to keep cheese appealing on a hot day.
A couple local olive oil purveyors shared their liquid gold.
Patrick Ranch was a great setting for the event. Two stages had music which complemented the laid back vibe. It wasn’t head banging. Just the right amount of amp and a good variety of musicians.
Partaking in the sampling of locally grown food was a fun way to spend a few hours.
Our carbon footprint has been talked about for years. The amount of water certain crops need is not news. But what is your water footprint?
The May issue of Bon Appetit magazine asked and helped answer that question.
Avocados are on the “thristier” scale, according to Bon Appetite magazine. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
It’s not something I give any thought to when I’m buying groceries. I pay attention to price, where it’s grown, and if it’s in season where I live.
Chico is known for almonds. It’s also one of the biggest water consuming crops. I already knew this. But what I learned from the magazine article is that California almonds on average use 700 gallons of water per pound of almonds, whereas the rest of the almond-growing world uses 1,900 gallons for a pound.
Either way, that’s a whole heck of a lot of water.
The article suggests substituting peanuts for almonds because at 200 gallons per pound that’s a lot less water being used. While that’s a true statement, nutrition-wise almonds, according to what I found online, have more health benefits.
For someone who became a vegetarian based on a water consuming crop, it’s rather surprising I’m not more cognizant of my buying/eating choices.
The short story on my conversion to being a vegetarian in my 20s is that I was living in the Central Valley (south of where I am now) where two of the top water-consuming crops–cotton and alfalfa–are grown. California was in a drought. Alfalfa is only grown to feed cows that are then slaughtered for human consumption. I thought then as I still do today that that was a waste of land, water and the effort to grow a crop solely to feed to an animal that I would later consume. Why not use that land for a product I could essentially eat right from the field? That was my bit of protest that has continued decades later.
I’m not saying people should be vegetarians. I’m merely suggesting we could all do a better job when it comes to knowing the resources it takes to grow our food—be it animal or vegetable or fruit or grain or other.
Bon Appetit listed how much water various proteins use:
I was disheartened to learn avocados like water: 141-224/gallons per pound.
While it can be difficult to pay attention to everything that goes into putting groceries on store shelves, or on farmers’ market tables, the magazine said the following, which I think we should all take to heart: “The quickest, easiest way to shrink your water footprint? Eat everything you buy. At least 30 percent of the food purchased in the U.S. ends up in the trash. The average person’s annual food waste each year is equivalent to taking a 10-minute shower every day for 400 days.”
The view from Amizetta winery is stunning. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
It’s not just the flavor of the wine that sets Smith Devereux and Amizetta wineries in Napa County apart. Their approach to the consumer are polar opposite.
Both are essentially micro-wineries based on the small quantity they produce—between 2,000 and 4,000 cases at Smith Devereux and about 5,000 cases at Amizetta.
Ian Devereux, one of the owners of the Oak Knoll area winery, said, “I would rather make less money per sale and make more sales.”
Ian Devereux talks about his philosophy of wine. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
At Amizetta, located outside of St. Helena 900 feet above the valley floor with a spectacular view of Lake Hennessey and the surrounding area, the owners are creating a high-priced experience to attract those with a wallet that is fatter than mine.
Both rely on direct to consumer sales, not restaurants or stores to sell their wine.
Smith Devereux doesn’t have a tasting room. Still, Devereux will host people at one of the locations where he leases the land, thus providing an intimate outdoor experience for guests. (He can’t charge for tastings because he doesn’t have the appropriate license.)
Amizetta, which includes tours of the cave in the price of a tasting, plans to double the size of its wine cave. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Amizetta charges $75 or $100 per person for a tasting. (We were told both prices, so not sure which is correct. It was free for the three of us because it was included with our condo rental.) Tom, who took care of us, shared the family’s story, gave us a sample from a barrel in the wine cave, let us enjoy the incredible view, and explained all of the construction taking place is in large part to cater to wine club members.
I have a hard time paying for any wine tasting because I came of drinking age when it was free to wine taste. Yes, I understand why wineries are charging—but $75 or more? No thanks. Sure, if I had bought three bottles, the tasting fee would have been waved at Amizetta, but when a so-so bottle of Chardonnay costs $60, there is no way I am ever going to meet the three bottle minimum.
The great thing about the Napa area is there are so many wineries with so many different flavors and experiences.
When others ran away from Merlot, Smith Devereux embraced this varietal. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
What I was left with after these two experiences is Devereux cares about his community, is focused on raising funds for charities, wants his wines to be approachable to more than those who buy wine by the case, he cares about the land and the finished product, as well as the people drinking his wine.
At Amizetta, it seemed to be all about money—making it. I don’t begrudge people wanting to make a buck, I do, too. I was left with the feeling the price to taste, price per bottle and upgrades were all about the desire to have enough cash to pay for the three owners (who bought it from their parents) as well as their collective 11 children. It didn’t feel like the emphasis was on the wine. This came through in what I tasted, the stories that were shared, and the ultimate experience.
I bought a few bottles at Smith Devereux, none at Amizetta—though my two friends bought bottles at both.
The experiences were totally different. Both enjoyable. But I’d only recommend Smith Devereux—because the experience felt authentic and the wines were much better.
I was reminded recently how much I like cookie dough. Too much. My stomach ached afterward. I sprawled on the couch like a lump, of, well, cookie dough.
My mom shook her head. I refrained from telling her this was her fault even though she had not been home at the time of the overindulgence. (It was really bad because I made two batches of cookies, which I don’t usually do.)
Raw cookie dough is good no matter your age and no matter what the CDC says. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
It was mom’s fault because she is the one who introduced me to cookie dough before I was big enough to operate a mixer or even measure ingredients. This was via licking the beaters.
This is a glorious rite of childhood—beater and spatula cleanup from cookie dough, brownies, cake mix, whatever the sweet concoction may be.
This clearly was not the first time I had a stomach ache after making cookies. Maybe if I made them more often I would eat less. Doubtful. Clearly, the problem is that I’m a slow learner without willpower.
My favorite part is before the dry ingredients have been added, so just the eggs, butter, sugar and vanilla. Oh, my, it really is mouthwatering yummy.
I don’t care that the Centers for Diseases Control and Prevention says this habit of mine is horrible, even dangerous. I have never been sick from cookie dough other than an upset stomach from over doing it. So, I say phooey to what the CDC says.
And this is what the CDC says, “Raw and lightly cooked eggs can contain salmonella, a germ that causes food poisoning.”
I’ve known about the raw egg bit for eons. I don’t care. I’m going to keep eating cookie dough and Caesar salad dressing, which also has raw eggs.
What I didn’t know until writing this story is that flour is also a problem. I remember when mom was making bread all the time when I was a kid. I would readily consume a small piece of dough. It had such a unique taste and texture. Not as good as cookie dough, but interesting enough to never say no when offered a nibble.
This is what the CDC says about flour: “Flour doesn’t look like a raw food, but most flour is raw. That means it hasn’t been treated to kill germs that cause food poisoning, such as E. coli. These harmful germs can contaminate grain while it’s still in the field or flour while it’s being made. Steps like grinding grain and bleaching flour don’t kill harmful germs—and these germs can end up in flour or baking mixes you buy at the store. You can get sick if you eat unbaked dough or batter made with flour containing germs. Germs are killed only when flour is baked or cooked.”
I would not call myself a minimalist, but I am also definitely not the person who needs the latest gizmo. I suppose this makes me much like most of the world where there are a few things I’ve acquired that make my life better, but I certainly could live without.
One of these items I bought in the last six months and the other I’ve had for several years. Both are used in the kitchen.
A tofu press makes a world of difference for getting all of the water out. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
The newest item is a tofu press. It does just what its name implies—it presses tofu.
Tofu is packed full of water. To get the best results when cooking tofu one must remove as much water as possible. It browns better with less water, and in turn then absorbs other flavors more easily—which is what you want.
I finally got tired of going through so much paper towel or needing to put a kitchen towel in the wash after squeezing the tofu. Plus, it never felt like I got all the water out.
The contraption is simple in design. The hard plastic fits a normal size grocery store block of tofu. The tofu sits between two thin pieces of hard plastic with holes in them from which the water oozes out. Then a spring is attached to press the tofu. The liquid can then be poured out.
It’s best to start the process at the get-go of whatever you are making in order to release as much water as possible.
One use and I was convinced this was a smart purchase.
An immersion blender is a must for anyone who makes soups that need to be blended. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
The other contraption I use is my immersion blender that I got as a gift several years ago. I use it for soups, but I’m sure it could have other applications.
Instead of pouring batches of soup into a regular blender, which can be a laborious process, the handheld immersion blender is used in the pot you are cooking in.
It is so, so easy to use.
If you blend any soups, you must get an immersion blender.
What gadgets make your life easier in the kitchen?
Sierra Nevada Bigfoot aged in bourbon barrels. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Sometimes the bottle is so fun you don’t want to open it. Sometimes it’s too big for one person. Eventually, though, it’s time to open that big boy to see what all the hoopla is about.
Such was the case with a special bottle of my sister gave me at the holidays.
A 750 ml, 15 percent ABV bottle of beer wasn’t something I wanted to experience on my own. So, I waited until a beer drinking friend was in town to open it.
What we had to share was a bottle of Sierra Nevada Bigfoot barleywine-style ale that had been aged for seven years in bourbon barrels in collaboration with Buffalo Trace.
The Chico brewery doesn’t even list this beer on its website. A Bigfoot is there. But not the one aged for seven years. I would be interested in trying it to see the difference.
A description about the beer on various websites other than Sierra Nevada says this, “Since 1983, Bigfoot Barleywine has captivated beer drinkers for its versatility—a force when fresh, and an adventure when aged. But the pinnacle of Bigfoot flavor? Hibernation in spirit barrels. And there are no distilleries more awarded than Buffalo Trace Distillery whose E.H. Taylor Jr. Collection honors the ‘Father of the Modern Bourbon Industry.’ Together we hand-selected Kentucky bourbon barrels to finish a seven-year vintage of Bigfoot Barleywine. If you’re lucky enough to hold this extremely limited bottle, may you enjoy it alongside the best of friends and family.”
PorchDrinking,com says this about the beer, “First released in 1983, Bigfoot was the second major modern American Barleywine to hit the market, after Anchor Brewing’s Old Foghorn, and it’s bold assertive Pacific Northwest hops and smooth full-bodied caramel-malt warmth have ensured that it remains an annual favorite among strong beer lovers. While there have been previous barrel-aged Bigfoot releases, including one of Sierra Nevada’s high-profile Trip To The Woods series, the Colonel E.H. Taylor is breaking ground at new levels of fancy, having been created through a refined blending process, much like a whiskey itself.”
It went down easy. While it was dark, it wasn’t heavy. It was a bit sweet, even chocolaty. It definitely had a unique, sweet taste. It was the perfect complement to hot tubbing after a day of hiking.
Would I buy it in the future? No, because there are better beers out there. But it was fun to try something unique. I don’t know how much my sister paid for this bottle, but I’m guessing it might have been one of the most expensive bottles I’ve had.
Tiny napkins are the norm at restaurants in Baja Sur. (Images: Kathryn Reed)
Cocktail napkins should not be used as a dinner (or lunch or breakfast) napkin. They are too dang small.
That’s not the belief in Mexico, though. Well, at least throughout the Baja peninsula.
Restaurants in Baja are known for their penchant to provide napkins that can’t do the job. Well, they can, it just takes multiple napkins to get through an entire meal.
I’m not really sure how this is efficient. It seems like a waste of paper and a waste of money. It seems like an environmental nightmare.
These servilletas, which in reality are probably a hair bigger than cocktail napkins, are also usually thin. This contributes to needing more than one or two or three to get through a meal—even if you aren’t a messy eater or even eating something messy. It’s not like I’m eating barbecue or the like where more than one of any size napkin is necessary.
The worst is when the napkin is wrapped around eating utensils. Inevitably the napkin is ripped because it’s been secured by a wrapper that doesn’t want to come undone.
While many times a container of napkins is on the table, you can’t be guaranteed that is going to be the case. To me, this arsenal of additional napkins is evidence the original napkin is not enough to get through the meal. So, it’s not like restaurateurs don’t know there is an issue with the napkins.
I realize the size of a napkin is not usually something worthy of a rant. I just think if these restaurants in Baja would be helping the environment and customers if they would provide guests with a better, bigger napkin.
All of this makes me wonder what Mexicans do in their homes. What size napkins are they using? How many do they use in one meal?
