Wine Judging 101

Eight years ago I was invited to be a wine judge by my esteemed friend Robert Whitley, of Wine Review Online. I had moved to California two years prior and my stated goal having left New York City, was to immerse myself in the world of wine, traveling through vineyards, inhaling cellars at harvest time, witnessing the evolution of the seasons…pretty romantic sounding for a gal who was only recently living in the concrete canyons of Manhattan. Wine judging was a great initiation to California and its rich history of state fairs, and honest and straightforward competition in the agricultural realm, including the vinous vein. Wine judging sounds like an easy job. It ain’t. When I first heard of the Monterey Wine competition, I conjured up in my recent urban transplant kinda way, an idyllic setting of getting up in the town of Monterey on the coast at 9 AM, having a leisurely jog and coffee followed by a 10 AM wine judging with few wines, plenty of breaks and lots of espresso. Little was I prepared for what greeted me those eight years ago, when I arrived in King City, California 145 miles south of South Francisco: a no nonsense and proud agricultural town and the heartbeat of the nearby Salinas Valley where the fairgrounds are the setting for the competition. Intense rounds of wines, sometimes number over 100 in a day create a whole new definition of stamina. We are fueled by the collegiality, the friendly ribbing of our friends and colleagues in the wine industry but most of all by the chicken enchiladas of Rosa, who has been making Mexican home cooking for our grateful judges every Saturday for at least 10 years. Sorry, there has to be some pay off for the grueling judging work: you can only have Rosa’s food if you’re a judge or you worm your way into her heart. Good luck.

This leads to my theme of my post, an initiation of a series of places for Wine Judges to eat well while on the road judging. No disrespect to our hosts, but the every curious foodie in all of us judges wishes to break the bonds of the fairgrounds to venture out to try the local fare, and in the towns we visit such as Ontario, King City and the like we are likely to find some of the most authentic and delicious food there is to be had. Many of us are used to fine wine dinners, white table cloth restaurants, superior sommelier wine service, but inside most of us is a deep desire for the pure, soulful simple flavors of places like El Molcajete in Greenfield, CA, along Highway 101 just north of King City. We were directed there by our hosts from Ventana Vineyards in Monterey, who produce a killer Riesling whose 2006 vintage ended up being sweepstakes winner this year at our competition. We were told that the dish to order was the restaurant’s namesake Molcajete, which was a blend of steak, chorizo, chicken, cactus, spicy broth, queso blanco and lime all served in a Molcajete which is a Mexian version of the mortar and pestle of volcanic basalt which keeps the food hot and bubbling for a long time. Let’s just say it was a delicious dish that went down well with a Modelo beer: yum! Unlike our family owned carnitas joint we found at the Soledad Chevron station last year that sadly folded like many small businesses under hard time last December, Molcajete looks like it’s here to stay for a while.

I will be checking our the local fare in San Diego next month and be sure to check back in May when we descend upon Donahoe’s for fried chicken in Pomona…bliss!

International Cycling Stars Hit the Roads for an Exciting Tour of California

20,000 cycling fans witnessed an exciting day of racing on the Stanford University campus as the week-long Amgen Tour of California (www.amgentourofcalifornia.com) kicked off on Sunday, February 17th. The World Champion Fabian Cancellara (CSC) won the prologue Sunday as one of the first major races of the 2008 season commenced. The grand tradition of international cycling has been rocked with scandal of late, with allegations and convictions of drug enhancement eating away at a sport that has a long and storied history.

The Tour of California, in its third year, has become one of the significant showcases in America for the international competitors. Sponsored somewhat ironically by a drug company, the 2008 Tour seemed to give racing a fresh start and new hope, and American fans something to cheers about. With last year's issues causing a number of teams to disband, the deck was shuffled, the players scattered and new teams have emerged.

There are two teams of particular interest to watch. One is the Slipstream-Chipotle team (www.slipstreamsports.com), managed by former pro Jonathan Vaughters, who has seen the good, the bad and the ugly of his beloved sport. With a pledge to ride clean, the new team called ‘America’s New Super Team’ by Velo News (www.velonews.com), features young up and coming cyclists such Americans Tom Danielson, Dave Zabriske and Danny Pate, as well as a UK veteran David Millar, who has returned for a second chance after a suspension for doping. Vaughters has attracted this group to create a team that is strong, talented and willing to undergo public drug testing that is more rigorous than required by the governing anti-doping bodies of cycling, WADA and UCI. They are an example of what can be. (Team CSC and the new High Road with fan favorite George Hincapie, are following a similar, drug-testing regimen.)

On the other side of the coin is a new team of castaways, outlaws, or as a friend put it, the Raiders of cycling, the Rock Racing team (www.rockracing.com). Clad in uniforms that feature a skull and cross bones-type logo created by sponsor Rock & Republic clothing, they are the veterans of swagger, some of whom have a tarnished past, such as Tyler Hamilton and Oscar Sevilla. (Dethroned Tour De France winner Floyd Landis may also join.) While a couple of these riders were not allowed to race the Tour of California due to pending legal situations, the stars to watch from Rock Racing this week are American Fred ‘Fast Freddie’ Rodriguez, long an unsung hero of US cycling in Europe, along with the self-declared ‘Sexiest Man in Cycling’, Mario Cipollini, former world champ (who allegedly owes 1.1 million euros in back taxes.) ‘Super Mario’ returns to racing after a two-year retirement, and at 41 years old, he’s fit and keeping pace with the youngsters, 20 years his junior.

As with any great sporting adventure, you watch because you hope to see something you never have seen before. 2008 will certainly hold true as it’s a new road for international cycling, and the season has just begun - Viva le velo!

For more on the Amgen Tour of California which will finish in Pasadena on February 24th - you can watch the action nightly on Versus Network (www.versus.com) or follow the stages at www.velonews.com or www.amgentourofcalifornia.com.

A Splended Spa Secret

Many people think that a massage is merely an expensive day of soft pampering. I’ve given up on those massages at the high priced, ‘zenned’ out, lavender filled spas. Most the massages have been just OK, and at $150 for an hour I would get far more pleasure in my own home with a bottle of Krug, some good music and a foot massage by my three-year old daughter. For some reason, she thinks this is fun too, so who am I to stop her? Is that bad?

But in all honesty, our bodies do need massage to help rid the us of those nasty toxins. Historically speaking, spas used to be integral part of general health care and have been in existence since the days of the Roman Empire. As for the root of the term spa, there are two theories: one is that spa is an acronym for the Lain phrase salus per aguae meaning ‘health through water’. While others believe the word comes from the Belgian town of Spa which has been known for its baths since Roman times.

So like I said, I’m done with the fancy spas. Four years ago, while I was in Los Angeles with some friends, I was introduced to Korean massage. We drove into Korea Town and parked in large lot that overlooked a golf driving range on the top of the covered parking lot. Strange indeed but I was again reassured that the Olympic Spa would not disappoint. The building is nothing fancy and very basic, clearly there’s little spent on decor. You order a trio (a scrub, massage and hair wash all for the fair price of $80) from women at the front desk who do not speak any English. Clothing is left in the locker room and you enter a steamy room filled with several soaking tubs, it truly is another world. After spending a good hour steaming all your impurities from life’s vices, you’re escorted to a long line up of massage tables. Drop your inhibitions because every crevice of your body will be scrubbed leaving you with the shiniest epidermis you’ve ever seen. While the scrubbing can be painful, at the same time you feel as though you are ‘turning over a new leaf’ or washing away your past sins. This is all followed by one of the strongest and deepest massages that will rock your world. I’ve never felt so clean and void of toxins. Maybe it was the dirty layer of skin which was scrubbed off my body or the cold and hot soaks that made your skin tingle, or the masseuse that climbed on my back and made every bone in body crack. Whatever the case, I was hooked.

Back in SF, I mourned the fact that we did not have a Korean Spa. In my travels to NY, I found a Korean Spa which was slightly more expensive ($120) but offered the same blissful treatment that I received in LA. Juvenex spa is located above a Karaoke bar in the heart of NY’s Korea Town (almost as strange as the golf putting course but I promise you can’t hear anyone singing). I indulged myself in what I considered to be a spiritual ritual on any occasion that found me in NY or LA, however late last year my dream came true. The beautiful Imperial Spa opened up in San Francisco, not by a driving range or karaoke bar but next to a KFC on Geary. For a paltry $80 you get the works.

This is not for the faint at heart but if you like to scrubbed, scraped and you're willing to surrender to this ancient spa ritual, then this is for you.

Facebooking Foodies

I could never be a celebrity. Ever-present paparazzi lurking in my bushes and fabricated headlines about my latest breakup stand against my idea of a quiet, private lifestyle. So, I was hesitant joining the booming, online community of Facebook. It seemed to have a similar sense of putting your life on display for the world (not to mention the dread of some high school boyfriend whose name might appear in my inbox some random morning). In a day and age where people are Googling everyone they meet, I was nervous at the thought of people finding me online. Keep it simple, I told myself. I dove in; listing only my basic interests, and filtering only friends who wouldn’t embarrass me should a future employer tag me on the site. Friends came out of the woodwork, from old college pals to friends-of-friends living on the east coast, I reconnected and created a virtual network of amigos. Then something curious happened, perfect strangers began sending me messages. Now, if you’re new to Facebook, or have yet to explore it, the system allows you to search for people using key words, network associations, name, groups, or interests. One message was from a girl who joined a San Francisco-based food and wine group, which seemed to include almost 200 other like-minded foodies. I too had joined this group, but neither of us had yet to receive even a single invitation to join anyone for a night of chowing and imbibing the Bay Area’s finest food and wine. My new, virtual friend, Yumi, had taken matters into her own hands pulling people from the group of similar age and interests. She, like the rest of us, was ready to hit the San Francisco food and wine scene and make new friends in the process. Once she gathered around a dozen gals, she sent her first invitation for a night of nibbling and sampling wines from around the world at the Market Street wine bar, CAV. The first turnout was small, just five of us, but we were able to sample some velvety French Burgundy, a fabulous cheese plate, a spicy sausage dish, and a just-in-season pumpkin cheesecake.

Since the first meeting, there have been meet-ups at venues across the city from the hot happy-hour spot Americano to the San Francisco Opera and Friday Nights at De Young. We share details of our lives, smile for photos, and swap tales through our online meeting source, Facebook. Our little group, the spin-off of the larger one, even has a name, though we’re trying to keep it an intimate group to avoid the same problem we encountered with the larger one. Still feeling like somewhat of a newbie to the San Francisco scene, I’m getting over my fears of putting myself out there, even if it is online. Facebook is allowing me to combine some of my favorite things, trying great wines, eating delicious, fresh foods, and socializing with new faces. I may not be a celebrity, but I guess putting yourself out there isn’t so bad after all.

A Spring Garden

After the sleepy, slow pace of winter, late spring can be almost overwhelming. Gone are the pale yellow squash and hearty greens. In their place is a sensory overload of bright green asparagus, sweetly smelling berries, and delicate tulips. The addition of new vendors and 'sexier' produce to the farmers markets brings an almost tangible increase in energy as more customers join the usual mix. This year however, I got to experience the excitement of spring in a whole new way. After attending over 25 different farmers markets around the world, I finally decided to try my hand at gardening. I lucked out with fertile soil, healthy seeds, and pretty decent weather patterns. A few days after planting, I could already see the little tops of my radishes poking through the ground. That was only the beginning. As late spring hit, my garden went nuts. At first, I was thrilled to serve salads for dinner made with bok choy and little gem lettuces from my very own garden. I loved realizing that I didn't have enough basil for a recipe, and just strolling down to my backyard to pick some. But then it started coming too fast. My cilantro started to bolt, my radishes turned cottony, and my zucchini plant blocked my beet plants from the sun.

Finally, I decided to pull all of my heads of lettuce and distribute them to everyone I knew. Next I got rid of the cilantro, cooked off the kale, and thinned out almost half of my carrots. Things are a bit calmer now as I wait for my beets and onions to grow, but I've recently realized with a new wave of panic that no one will be there to tend my garden while I'm out of the country for the next few weeks. I never knew how much attention a garden demands and how stressful maintaining one can be. It's exactly like having a pet! I almost longing for the cooler days of fall and a garden full of easier, more self-sufficient root vegetables. Almost.

Slow Club

By Kimberly

After a positive experience last week, I decided to brave another restaurant that does not take reservations. I had always wanted to try Slow Club but I had previously been put off by its unfamiliar location and rumors of long waits for tables. I decided the safest time to visit was a weekday afternoon, and last Friday I finally got the perfect opportunity. Slow Club's sleek, minimalist decor manages to at once be very chic and at the same time fit in with the surrounding industrial area. Although the restaurant was quite crowded with Slow Club's eclectic patrons, my friend and I were lucky enough to get seated immediately. For lunchtime it was quite loud despite the purple velvet curtain which lines one wall and must muffle some of the noise. I can only imagine that at night, when there is a packed bar, it must be pretty difficult to hear your companion across the table.

While I could have ordered most of the menu (and have heard raves about the burger), we decided to split the pork loin sandwich ($9) and the salad with mahi mahi ($13.50). The pork sandwich came on a deli roll with a truffled creme fraiche, arugula, swiss cheese, and grilled onion. There was a little too much bread for me, but when I removed the top bun and added some of the lightly dressed side salad, the sandwich became phenomenal. Seriously, I was quite annoyed when I remembered I had agreed to split and could only eat half of the sandwich.

The mahi mahi salad was prepared with spring greens, kalamata olives, feta cheese, cous cous, red onions, red wine vinaigrette, and large grilled strips of fish. The amount of dressing was perfect (no soggy greens!) and the cous cous added a surprising and interesting texture. The salad was actually quite a nice light, fresh accompaniment to the more substantial pork sandwich. We didn't have time for dessert, but we both agreed it was worth a return trip. While I am not giving up my OpenTable VIP status anytime soon, I am definitely going to continue trying out restaurants without reservations. Next on my list: Burma Superstar!