Sneakeater

Just what I was in the mood for. Improved Genever Cocktail 2 oz. Genever 1 tsp. Simple Syrup 1/2 tsp. Maraschino liqueur 2 dashes Boker's bitters Rinse of Absinthe Rinse chilled cocktail glass with Absinthe. Stir the rest of the ingredients in an ice-filled cocktail shaker and strain into rinsed glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

You know what I like better than boiled beef? NOTHING

I've only ever had them in Rancho Mirage. So in my mind I think of them as this fish that lives in the desert sand. I know that isn't the case.

Hey I loves me some sand dabs.

I also thought it was odd to complain (criticize?) that fish dishes dominate. What if they do?

This is another of those wines where I really feel regretful when I get to the bottom of the bottle.

I mean, when Early Man was tasting all the fish, deciding which ones were good to eat and which ones weren't, when they got to striped bass they must have fucking freaked.

I rail against the limited selection of fish that we get as opposed to what you see at markets in Yurp. But when one of your available local fish is as sheerly delicious as striped bass, it's hard to stay angry. Looking at what I needed to use up, I pan roasted my striped bass with some grape tomatoes, some olives, and some lemon (and herbs). I cooked the fish very lightly, the way Eric Ripert and Dave Santos would. This Greek-adjacent preparation led me to make some Greek lemon-roasted potatoes on the side. Also okra oven-roasted with tomatillo and hot chili pepper, which isn't remotely Greek. But I'll bet Greeks would like it (if this were 1968 or '69, instead of "like" I'd have said "dig") (it isn't). I decided this needed an Assyrtiko. 2022 Hatzidakis Santori Familia My only complaint about this wine is that I undoubtedly drank it too young. The elements are all superb. But to me it tastes like they haven't quite come together yet. This is still the best Assyrtiko I've ever had. You (by which [like Pauline Kael] I mean I) think of Assyrtiko like say Picpoul: a sharp warm-weather charmer -- but not something to contemplate. This Natural Assyrtiko isn't like that at all. There is so much going on here! It's like a symphony of acid, herbs, minerals, and salt (it's NOT particularly fruity: a whiff of grapefruit at the very front). Now they're all there as fairly discrete elements. In a few years, they'll start to meld (anneal, R. Sietsema would say), and this wine will be not just really good, but outrageously good. As it was, it was a fine fine superfine companion for this dinner.

Yo black cod!

I have Miele and it's great but the cycle takes so fucking long. If I were buying a new one, I'd buy a Bosch probably. But I DO think my Miele's great.

Yo baked black cod!

Oh shit. It was Cambridge. TDR: The Drama Review

You care, but I totally think of Colour Haze as a Prog band.

I had one of my faves write about me in an Oxford journal. Beat THAT!

I keep saying each batch of Pasta alla Norma I have is my last of the season. And tomatoes keep staying good. The tomatoes I bought last weekend shouldn't exist in mid-September. But then, you shouldn't have two weeks of 100º weather in early September. In any event, this will be my last batch. Probably. Since I had to toss the eggplant with salt, I did the Ghost Pepper-in-the-toss thing. On top of that, the chili I actually put into the sauce turned out to be hotter than I expected -- but not painfully so. This was probably my best batch of this favorite dish of mine yet. On the side, green beans in the Sicilian style. While you're slicing the green beans in half lengthwise, you can't help but curse the Sicilians for coming up with that prep method. But when you cook the beans and eat them, you can see why they do that. As you know, I've found the A#1 wine pairing for Pasta alla Norma. But I'm out of it, and I just can't see buying more. Sometime during the afternoon, I fixated on a Douro as being a good pairing for this pasta. I can't really articulate why I thought that. I made sure to open a modest one. 2015 Quinta do Crasto Douro Superior As I always tiresomely write when I drink this, "Superior" doesn't mean that this is an especially good Douro. It means it's grown in the "Superior" district, upriver from the older classic Douro district. So it's actually a sign of inferiority (just like the New York State Supreme Court is the court of first resort, not last). Quinta do Crasto is one superb mainstream wine producer. They're an old outfit, but unlike say Luis Pato in Bairido, they aren't excentrically traditional. They make wine in the mainstream style. But boy is it good. And in one respect they're resolutely trad: they only use local grape varieties. This is the Douro blend: a bunch of grapes you haven't otherwise heard of (at least by these names: I think one of them might be Cabernet Franc). Another important thing is that these wines are almost fanatically well made. You can taste the care in every gulp (and believe me this is gulpable). The balance, the restraint. Maybe the most important thing is, this wine is THERE. Sometimes you can taste when a wine has gotten where it wanted to go. This is one of those cases. The balance between the elements (not that there are many, as we'll get to below) is now about perfect. And they each taste so good. So what's it like? Well, remember this is a modest wine: simple, pretty linear. It's gotten some high ratings that strike me as absurd. But that doesn't mean it isn't delicious. Cherries at the start. They're not big -- but they're pure. Then, a little menthol, a very little tobacco, and we're probably done. The finish isn't especially persistent. But those mildly recessed but so definitely there cherries at the front are so beguiling. There's also a decent amount of acid. That's what made it work with dinner. Even if it was too tannic for the hot peppers.

Chili Verde with Pork. I have my közmatik at the ready now for flame-roasting, but chili peppers are unaccountably late this year. I couldn't wait any longer for the arrival of fresh local versions of the Numex chili peppers (the Joe E. Parker my favorite!) that I now know are what constitute Hatch Chilis if they're grown in the Hatch Valley. I wanted to get flame-roasting. So I figured I could substitute a blend of Anaheims (originally from New Mexico, even if they achieved renown in California) and Cubanelles. There's also some Jalapeño in there and of course some tomatillos. And you'll be relieved to know that I've kind of mastered Ghost Peppers (good thing, cuz there they are, sitting in my pepper bowl). For this dish, you toss the pork pieces with salt and let them sit for an hour before cooking. I put a very little bit of minced Ghost Pepper into the toss -- and then was very careful not to let any of the pieces of Ghost Pepper get into the pot. Just sitting with the pork for an hour, they imparted this very enjoyable tingle -- but not the intense pain my first use or two of them inflicted. There you go: let the Ghost Peppers touch what you eat -- but don't even think of eating them themselves. This dish was kind of perfect for tonight in that I had to do the prep work at a good time to take a work break, and then the dish was cooking away while I took a few more hours to finish work for the day. Also, the pork was fantastically good. Over larded rice (and topped with crème fraiche and scallions). Some Guiso de Flor de Calabaza om the side. This definitely seemed like a dish that a wine with Carignan as well as Grenache and Syrah would get along with. 2013 Le Roc des Anges Côtes Catalanes "Segna de Cor" This is approximately 40% Grenache with the rest approximately evenly split between Carignan and Syrah. It is, I think, this producer's entry level cuvée, made to be simple and vibrant. It seemed like just the thing with a mildly spicy dish. And it was. It was racier in its youth -- and that was probably preferable. But while age hasn't made it complex, it has added some depth of flavor that wasn't there before. A decent trade-off. There's some smoke here, which was welcome with that pork dish. And of course those Carignan baking spices that are so nice with mildly spicy food. Most people tend to drink this wine too young. This was almost certainly too old -- but (as I keep telling myself) age has its compensations. If you have any bottles of this wine of this vintage, drink up. It isn't going anywhere but down. But it's quite enjoyable right now. Especially with mildly spicy food. (Be very good with a lamb curry or tagine.)

So how was Low Cut Connie?

It's funny, cuz at Les Troix Cheveaux, the food concept and the ambience were too Uptown for where they were. But the service they had, while conceivable Downtown, would never fly Uptown. I hope for their sake they realize that.

But based on Beatrice, not anything approaching low.

Another night where I knew I'd be working way past midnight and so planned a dinner accordingly. Linguini with farmstand goat goop (I guess I should specify that I mean goat cheese goop). On the side, a friend was enthusing about an orange-Sungolds-chili-fennel pollen salad he had at Ci Siamo, and it occurred to me that I had the makings of it here at home (I mean, I used my beloved grape tomatoes instead of Sungolds: so shoot me). I'm sure it wasn't as good as Ci Siamo's. But it was here. And it was pretty good. (I marinated the tomatoes in Sherry vinegar like Melissa Clark says -- good rec, Melissa Clark!) You'd obviously want a Sauvignon Blanc with this. And this time I made sure the Loire Sauvignon Blanc I was going to open was a Sauvignon Blanc, and not a Pinot Noir. 2018 Domaine Ricard Pierre à Feu Vincent Ricard's sharp clear Anjou Sauvignon Blancs really do improve with some age. They lose a little bit of their edge, take on a little bit of depth -- and you don't want to stop drinking them.

There's no way that's not insanely good.

Well HE only got three stars!

FWIW, I do agree with whoever said above that Helen Rosner did a better job with FN than Wells did.

Good thing Prince isn't a band.

I guess they agree. Sort of.