一期一会

bread to use up the remnants of many small tubs of assorted flours, a bag of frozen walnut pieces, and a bundle of scallion tops—and not incidentally my last loaf, for now, as a resident of cambridge, mass. of course, this irreproducible, haphazard bread achieved the texture i plan and hope for but always, until now, have fallen far short of.

the yellow peril

one of new york city's extensive network of chinese tortillerias. the observant eye will detect a distinct visual similarity to your regular chinese restaurant takeout menu.

the land of legendary fruit

san francisco was wreathed in fog this morning but the sun broke through in walnut creek and it was in the high 80s with clear skies by the time we got to brentwood. thanks to friends in high places, we had the deluxe edition tour of frog hollow farm, a 140-acre tree fruit paradise containing, among other things, mind-altering apricots and a dazzling array of peach, plum, and pluot varieties that i have not yet tasted. i love fruit, and i especially love tree fruit: orchards are about the only form of agriculture that comes close to being genuinely sustainable.

alfred and sarah, co-owners, showed us around the farm. we saw: the new and fancy 10,000 case/day packing line which bruises their fruit because frog hollow picks riper than most growers do. the fragrant cold room, stacked high with cases of ripe fruit. the farm dog, which is an attention-seeking black labrador-esque animal with a cold nose. rows of alluring but unripe peaches, pears, plums, pluots, apples. a team of pickers on their third pass through a row of zee lady peaches (red-skinned but yellow-fleshed, with a rich flavour and good acid). moth pheromone emitters that interfere with moth sex and thus prevent moth larvae (good for the fruit, not so good for the moths). their full-time and seasonal staff, many of which have been with them for decades ("they're the best around: PhDs in picking and packing, every one of them"). many rows of superior-grade house-made organic compost, heavy on horse manure, chipped up old trees, and overripe peaches (managed by a consulting compost expert, turned over by a special compost-turning machine, and moistened by an 1100-gallon water tank on wheels). many fruit culled for not complying with arcane and pointless-seeming appearance guidelines—such as the peach in the picture third from the top, which suffers from "excessive cleavage." gopher holes (they like to chew on the roots of apricot and cherry, but not those of peach; a staff hunter prowls the property picking the varmints off with a shotgun). the aromatic bee gardens designed to attract the native terrestrial bees which nest underground. the neighbour's automated canning tomato harvesting machine in the adjacent field (it sucks up whole tomato plants and pours out the side a cascade of thick-skinned tomatoes at the rate of 150 tons/hour, many still green and underripe). a pickup truck destined for the farmer's market, bed completely filled with cases of ripe peaches and pluots gradually warming in the midday sun.

like a fool, i forgot—until it was far too late—to buy a case of peaches at the farm.

harvest of the cold months*

a heat wave grips the northeast in its sweaty palm. pastis (lots of ice) is one way to show the heat who's boss. strawberry mascarpone and pistachio ice cream is another: pale pink and vegetal green are the colours of summer. from toscanini's, of course.

*

piki bread

piki bread is a hopi ceremonial wafer made from a fine batter of nixtamalized blue cornmeal and cooked on a lightly oiled sandstone griddle. there is much to explore in the process. for one thing, the wafers, despite being both lean and ultrathin, are flexible enough to be folded and rolled into various shapes. for another, the nixtamalization is done on fine-ground cornmeal instead of whole kernels. this video of the process is instructive.

culturally correct caffeination

hi-collar is a piece of taisho tokyo in the east village. it was a long way to go, even for kodawari coffee.

california, north and south, 2011

piedi grandi i did not find completely successful, but maybe hank and the sierra foothills are learning what a nebbiolo/mourvedre/syrah blend should be. the first day, it was hot as hell and with not much else going on. purple in the glass with brick edges. on the second day, it had calmed down and opened up into some peppery dark fruit, blackcurrant leaf, and some aggressive tannins, but it was still essential to drink it chilled. on day three, it had the fresh elderflower and scrubby aromas of northern california on a hot day and an enticing sweetness that was enjoyable at something more closely approaching cellar temperature. i don't know if i would call this a conventionally complex and complicated wine, but it is a thought-provoking one that recalls the sense memory of a brief time in the mountains of northern california. if i had more bottles and if they were under cork, i would lay some down for research purposes.

the martian ranch parallax, which is all mourvedre from santa barbara county, has the same blackcurrant leaf aroma. most distinctive was the sensation of the wine in the mouth: a creamy, almost starchy quality that i've never encountered before. the fruit was inkily intense but there wasn't much acid to balance it. after a day open, it developed flavours of alcohol-soaked cherries and blackberries. it was unpleasant enough that i left it to sit, undisturbed, for a few more days in the refrigerator, at which point it had gotten over the booziness and was subdued wood and vanilla, delicate cherry, cream, and a little of the tephra ashiness that marks nerello mascalese from etna.

is mourvedre the unheralded terroir grape of the cooler and less fashionable regions of northern california? i would certainly leap at the chance for another stab at la clarine's 2011 cedarville mourvedre. california is 1.44 times the size of italy.

the worst

lyle fass pulls no punches:

The worst wine in the world has to be really bad Pinot Noir from Burgundy. Thin, stewey, vegetal, green, almost like drinking a puddle, with no finish and weedy. Truly like they got all the dirt, hay and moss and liquified it and added like one small cherry, dyed it red, slapped a label on it and that was that.

it is a good thing to have an opinion.

the miller's grape

thierry puzelat's wines have always pushed my boundaries pleasurably outward. the 2010 le rouge et mis is 100% pinot meunier, a grape i have hitherto knowingly encountered only in champagne. the scent of ripe strawberries and red dates (also characteristic of the olivier cousin grolleau that i've been drinking a lot of) rises from the bottle as soon as it is opened. though low in alcohol and with not much in the way of tannins, it is surprisingly intense. there is much ripe (possibly even overripe) fruit and, most notably, a powerful but not overpowering vinous acidity. unredeemably cloudy but still limpid in the mouth, it is worthwhile to serve it chilled to start and to pour generously. nor would a decanter hurt. a refreshing, joyous, remarkable wine.

maximum capacity

over-proof rum should be consumed judiciously, he observed.

in the mail

from sandra and brad, some fruits of natural advantage: golden sweet apricots and crimson lady peaches from frog hollow farm. a box to make you miss california.

asta

the cooking is smart, idiosyncratic, and skews sweet with carefully hidden acid balance. as often as not the kitchen brings your food to you. there are no uniforms and the playlist is dominated by ... well, you can hear for yourself.

generous and comfortable in its own skin, asta is worth a visit.

after service

L: many rum punch.
R: a simple burger with foie gras terrine scraps and pickle chips.

the straggler

last night, we opened a bottle of cédric bouchard's inflorescence (a blanc de noirs from a single parcel in the val de vilaine). golden and only lightly effervescent, with compellingly mellow and vinous yet lively acid and none of the harsh carbonic acidity of sparklier champagnes and cremants. a remarkably beautiful champagne of depth, grace, and lightness that i actually want to drink—preferably in quantity and after (heresy i know) it has warmed up a little and gotten a bit of air. why did four half-glasses of it get sent off the table to be poured down the drain? at the end of the night, we found a micropour left in the bottle and gave it a good home.

the perils of variance

Now, he says, "Dominique Saibron is one of the best three or four bakeries in France, but there are so many different factors involved in baking bread. It's different each time." ... When asked to sample one of Dominique Saibron's baguettes, Professor Kaplan turns somber. "I worry about tasting because I want it to be good and on many occasions, it's disappointing."

lennox morrison, "the best baguette in paris"