The Wine Boss, the Wine . . .

Well, the wine I fell in love with was a Windy Oaks Pinot Noir 2003 to die for! It had everything – supple, plummy, some olallieberry, a hint of leather (the kind on a jacket that has been worn by an Italian BMW driver) and only 14.2 alcohol. Enough to hold all those flavors, plus some tannin, but not enough to toast your eyeballs.

BUT, it’s gone. All gone. And the 2004 has crept up in price by $6 (bringing it to over $30 a bottle). There’s a lesson here, which probably involves not falling for a wine you can’t afford to buy a case of. Or something like that.

Art at the Beach

Art at the Beach

morten.jpgPorcelain artist Jenny Morten is at it again — plan to show up at Esplanade Park in Capitola, on June 24 to be amazed by Morten’s delicate vases and bowls in colors of the sea. Sumptuous stuff. “Art at the Beach” – it was good enough for Monet. It’s good enough for me!

What are we reading?

What are we reading?

Well, I’ll tell you. Here’s what’s sitting on the coffee table as we head into summer. Gertrude, Hermann Hesse’s third novel – a love trianglevasari.jpg involving a composer and his colleagues. Vasari’s Lives of the Artists, v.2 – in which the chatty renaissance art historian/painter devulges behind-the-scenes secrets of the Cinquecento Mannerist masters. Delicious stuff. The Ambassadors, by Henry James. Rocky going at first, I must admit, since James believes in rooting out the subtextual psychology of even the least dust mote. But I know he’s on to something, and besides three people I respect have told me I must read it. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? one of the top three genre-busting sci-fi tomes by Berkeley’s own Philip K. Dick. It just gets better — and more shockingly prescient — with each reading.

And don’t miss the profile of Paul McCartney in the current New Yorker. At sixty-four, the cutest Beatle is enmeshed in a web of high celebrity and the sadness many of his generation feel for what has happened to their dreams. Love was such an easy game to play.

Feed a Cold

River Cafe & Cheese Shop has blown me away once again. And it’s not simply that one entire counter-top of fresh, decadent desserts should be declared illegal. Especially those addictive Valrhona chocolate brownies.

The other day Jack had a cold, so to pamper him I stopped by River Cafe for something special. Hot soup. Yes, just what every cold needs. So I got a to-go bowl of organic veggie soup packed with huge chunks of zucchini, carrot, green beans, broccoli in a thick, rich broth. Also a large slice of outrageous pizza topped with prosciutto, gruyere cheese, onions and asparagus — sinful, sinful, sinfully good. For dessert, a slab (I am not joking) of dark, spicy gingerbread. Such gorgeous food – total eye calories.
The pizza — killer, crisp, whole wheat crust — was generous enough for lunch, and a mini-afternoon snack as well. All were served with hibiscus lemonade and Jack’s cold was vanquished with each bite.

River Cafe & Cheese Shop perches in front of the Farmers Exchange, at 415 River St., Santa Cruz.

Serious Sausage

Justin Severino is an old-fashioned food maverick. The former chef – Bernardus, Manresa – is currently into handcrafted charcuterie and traditionally butchered meats. Primarily pork, which he gets from pastured, free-roaming pigs raised on TLC Ranch. What Severino does with the dense, flavorful meat is nothing short of sorcery. The proof is in the tasting, so I suggest you hit either the Westside farmers market this Saturday, or the downtown Santa Cruz farmers market on Wednesday.

Look for Severino’s Community Butcher, Inc. And grab – with both hands – all the packages of Spicy Italian Sausage you can carry ($6/lb). I grilled a few of these last week to serve next to my favorite Pasta Mike’s raviolis. Bursting with flavor! In addition to the lean-but-delicious pasture-raised pork, Severino’s sausages acquire zingy flavor from local dried chilis, coriander, fennel, black pepper and smoked paprika. Definitive Italian sausage any way you slice it. You need to try this. Need to.