For the foodie, rows of gleaming electric meat smokers, mandolin slicers and sous vide machines call out like a siren song, but many kitchen gadgets that promise to make food prep easier or deliver restaurant-quality results end up in the back of the kitchen drawer.
HOOD RIVER, Ore. — After the dust settled from two days of tasting through nearly 600 wines, the judges for the fourth annual Great Northwest Invitational Wine Competition chose a Cabernet Sauvignon from a respected Walla Walla Valley winery as the best of show.
At this point in the History of Pizza, so many styles populate our pizzerias, delivery boxes, cookbooks and freezer cases that it doesn’t surprise us to hear someone describe a new restaurant’s pies as “Italian.”
If you haven’t done a great deal of wine tasting in your life, either in wine shops, at foodie festival seminars, at wineries or in the homes of your wine-obsessed friends, you might breeze right past the second word in “wine tasting” and subconsciously replace it with a word that more closely matches your own experience: “drinking.”
In California, whole seasoned roasts are strung up on steel rods and then gradually lowered over hot red oak coals. Cooking a whole roast, generally 2 1/2-3 pounds, takes about 45-50 minutes for medium-rare. The roast is sliced and served with salsa and pinquito beans, which are said to be grown only in the Santa Maria Valley.
While we all have access to tomatoes in even the depths of winter, the words we use to describe them all sound like other names for disappointment — mealy, bland and sad. But describe an encounter with the best summertime tomatoes, and suddenly it sounds as if you’re reliving some steamy affair — luscious, sumptuous and messy.
Kohlrabi, sweet and hot peppers, broccoli, kale, spinach, cucumbers, summer squash (including tatume, eight ball, light and dark green zucchini, light and dark yellow zucchini), radishes (red, white and striped), skinny green beans, wax beans, beets, turnips and assorted onions.
Delightful. Delicious. Subtle. These are just a few of the words staffers used to describe this terrific twist on a baklava. One doesn’t tend to think of baklava in a savory way. When I think of baklava, I think of ground walnuts or pistachios between crispy layers of phyllo dough that’s doused with a honey syrup.
If there were a signature summer dish of my childhood, it was corn on the cob. Sweet, tender and juicy. Is there anything better? My father loved it. Still does, though he doesn't eat a half-dozen ears in a sitting as he once did.
Lunch on the town is all long skirts, tall drinks and sunny salads. What's better than old friends and new outfits? We lunched, we lounged, we lingered. Sans coffee, we listed toward the car, which perversely had left.
A good burger is a glorious thing. The confluence of savory meat, fresh toppings, soft bread and flavorful condiments creates a nearly perfect bite. I say “nearly” because the burger-eating experience can’t go on forever. Eventually, you’ve eaten the thing, and that’s when the sadness sets in (that is, until you fix yourself another).