Recently in Memes

Hamakua Springs passed this press release to me back before Christmas. My bad for sitting on it until now; 'twas a busy season and I dropped the ball. Fortunately there are still a couple weeks left to craft your masterpiece tomato recipe and send it in.

I remember learning about the contest last year and thinking, "What do I know about tomatoes? Salads and sauces and that's about it." The entry deadline passed and I never submitted a thing. This year I plan to at least enter something... if I can only figure out what.

Read on for the contest details...

Send in Tomato Recipes, Win Cash

Pepe‘ekeo, HI - Did you ever think Chef Alan Wong, who runs what Gourmet magazine calls the 8th Best Restaurant in the country, would sit down with a bowl of your grandmother’s spaghetti?

Here’s your chance to tickle some pretty famous taste buds: It’s the Second Annual Hamakua Springs Tomato Recipe Contest, and Alan Wong is one of the judges.

Dust off those favorite, original recipes, or come up with a new concoction, and send it in by January 30th for a shot at some great prizes. Contest categories are Entrees; Soups & Bisques; and Preserves & Condiments.

There are three cash/gift certificate prizes in each category. Three 1st Place award winners, $350 each; 2nd Place winners, $300; and 3rd Place winners, $250.

Our judges will rate all recipes on a point scale, and the top five recipes in each category will go on to the finals. That means they will be turned over to Chef Allan Okuda and Chef Sandy Barr at the Hawai‘i Community College Food Services department, whose students will prepare the dishes for our panel of judges to taste and rate. That event will be televised on Kama‘aina Backroads, which airs on Oceanic Cable channel 16.

Our three 1st Place winners will also be invited to tour Hamakua Springs Country Farms, with roundtrip airfare to Hilo provided for Neighbor Island winners.

In addition to Wong, judges include Wanda Adams, food editor for the Honolulu Advertiser; Hawai‘i Community College Chancellor Rockne Freitas; UH Board of Regents Member Marlene Hapai; Food Writer Sonia Martinez; Food Writer Joan Namkoong; Hawai‘i Community College School of Continuing Education Program Director Randy Nunokawa; and Hawai‘i Tribune-Herald Food Columnist Audrey Wilson.

“We’re excited about seeing the interesting recipes people come up with,” says Hamakua Springs president Richard Ha. “Last year’s contest was a lot of fun, and having Chef Alan participate this year takes it to a new and exciting level.”

Please read full contest details and rules (www.hamakuasprings.com) before entering. Submit recipes to contest@hamakuasprings.com, or by mail to Hamakua Springs Recipe Contest, 421 Lama St., Hilo HI 96720 by January 30, 2008.

Anuhea is Hawaiian for "cool, soft fragrance, as of upland forests." Isn't that a beautiful image? It's also the name of a fellow food blogger here in Hawaii, writing about the food and places she encounters. Equally cool.

Several weeks ago Anuhea presented me with five questions as part of an interview meme. Here are my long overdue answers...

What is your favorite restaurant and what are your favorite dishes there?

One restaurant stands above all others: The French Laundry. There aren't enough superlatives to describe that meal, nor how it changed how I experience food. (Considering we spent more on a single meal than we pay for a month's rent, it had better be good!)

The experience was unlike any other, from lounging in the garden, to peeking into the immaculate kitchen, to the mind-blowing flavor combinations, to having Thomas Keller discretely come out to observe the crazy dreadlocked couple with the endless questions.

If you love food, save up. It's worth it.

What do you do for a living, and if you could do anything else, what would your career change be to?

[This was the hardest question for me to answer. Until now, I've kept my work life and my food life separate, careful not to reveal threads between the two. That's a farce though. A few minutes of diligent research would have told someone all they needed to know.]

By day I'm a partner in a web consulting firm, Agathon Group, making this site the old cliche, "the cobbler's children have no shoes." I'm busy enough developing web sites for other organizations, that my own is just a stock Movable Type template with the colors changed. I'm going to fix that some day. Really, I am. I've been saying that for two and a half years now.

My alter ego dream job has always been to be a bike messenger in a major metropolitan area. Those guys (and gals) are hard core, in peak shape and have a kind of reckless freedom that appeals to me. A good bike makes all the difference. I sold mine a few years ago rather than pay for it to be shipped to Hawaii and have been mourning it ever since.

I also fantasize about working in a kitchen, but realistically know that I'd hate the long hours and lifestyle of a chef. Give me a kitchen with weekends and holidays off and then we can talk.

Where did you learn how to create such cakes and have you ever had any professional culinary training?

My cakes look okay but belie my complete lack of training. On the inside, they are as conventional as any Betty Crocker mix and that's an area where I need to work and grow. The one exception of which I'm most proud is my Chocolate Curry Cupcakes with Lemongrass Infused Coconut Buttercream Frosting.

You have lived a lot of places, do they influence your cooking and where was your favorite place to live?

Favorite place to live? Hawaii of course! The runner up was Vancouver, for many of the same reasons I love it here: natural beauty all around, many international influences, great food and a laidback vibe. We've accumulated cooking techniques and ingredients from every location we've lived. When you live somewhere, really live there and not as a vagabond passing through, aspects of that place are internalized and become a part of you forever. Food is tied up in that.

The biggest shift in cooking came from our stays in Vietnam, where I discovered that bún bộ hué makes the most satisyfing early morning breakfast ever. This sweet vendor ran her parents stand right outside my friend's apartment. We would wake to her sing-song calls to passing cyclos, seven thousand dong (less than a buck) for a bowl.

If you could have a last meal -cooked by yourself- what would you make and why? (including drinks, dessert, and side dishes)

There is no single last meal. It depends on the tidal tugs of my location and the season, pulling my tastes to favor the flavors around me. As I type, I'm in Hawaii nearing the end of summer. None of the items require elaborate prep or tinkering; a menu rises or falls on the strength of the ingredients.

ʻO Ke Kai
    assorted ʻopihi and kupeʻe, hopefully pried from the reef by yours truly
    ahi poke, with fresh ogo, again gathered personally
    ʻōʻio poke
    two finger poi, to accompany

ʻO Ka ʻAina
    A thick North Shore Cattle Co. steak, grilled hot and medium rare over open flame
    Asparagus, grilled with olive oil and sea salt
    fresh sourdough bread from the starter in my fridge

Hua ʻAi
    fresh lychee, mango and papaya, maybe with a nice sorbet

To drink with all of this, a good porter. That has nothing to do with Hawaii, but I like beer. I also know the menu doesn't flow logically. It's my last meal and I'm the cook.

Thank you Anuhea for great questions.

DIRECTIONS FOR THE INTERVIEW MEME
1. Leave a comment (or email) saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. Beware, I'm not shy of asking personal questions! Please make sure I have your email address.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Aloha and mahalo.

I just checked and so far Menu for Hope III has raised nearly $50,000 for the United Nations World Food Programme!

The good news for you, faithful readers, is that there is still today for you to pick up a couple raffle tickets for Hawaiian Cookies and Coffee or any of the other fabulous prizes available. Cookbooks, rare and exotic food, dinner with the NYT Wine Critic or coffee with Thomas Keller. Wow. Ten bucks per ticket is a paltry sum for chances like those.

In a very close competition, Robyn at Eating Asia and her post titled Bhutanese Chiles 'n Cheese pulled ahead by a nose and won best entry. Reid has more details.

We set the bar high, but a number of people rose to the challenge and shared their vacation stories and recipes. From Posole in Pueblo to libations in Las Vegas, we've got tales and meals to take you from the winter doldrums to faraway lands.

The overall contest winner will be announced in a few days once we've had a chance to confer with our judges. Meanwhile, drag the map around. Zoom in and out. Click a marker to read the entry from that location and take a vicarious vacation...

Tokyo, Japan - Sometimes travel doesn't seem worth the trouble. We had just spent hours and hours on a flight, only to be almost turned back from Narita International Airport due to passport problems. Immigration must have felt sympathy for the desperation in our faces, because we were eventually released. The next few hours were spent in a series of bus and taxi rides through the dead of night, Tokyo suburbs sliding by in a weary fog before we finally stepped off one last subway. Half a mile further by foot and we arrived at our friend's tiny apartment, our home base for the next seven days.

The next morning, we awoke to the quiet cooking from the kitchen where Kaoru was preparing a breakfast of oyako donburi for her new houseguests. After the emotional rollercoaster ride at the airport, the meal was just what we needed to sooth our souls.

Literally, o-yako combines words for parent and child, referring to both the chicken and the egg sitting atop a bowl of rice. Donburi describes the porcelain bowl. I didn't learn all this until much later though. At that moment, oyako donburi was the perfect comfort food to welcome us to Japan, warm, soothing and savory.

Oyako Donburi
serves 2

• 6 oz. boneless, skinless chicken breast or thigh, sliced into thin strips
• 1/2 yellow onion, sliced very thin
• 3 shiitake mushrooms (fresh or dried), sliced into 1/4 strips
• 1/2 c. water
• 1 T. dashi no moto
• 2 T. soy sauce
• 2 T. mirin
• 1 T. sugar
• 3 eggs
• 2 c. cooked rice

Start rice cooking. Slice chicken and set aside. If you're using dried shiitake mushrooms, soak them in hot water for five minutes to soften, then discard stems. Slice the mushrooms and onion, then set aside.

Combine water, dashi, soy sauce, mirin and sugar in a skillet and heat until just boiling. Add chicken, mushrooms, and onion. Allow to simmer until the chicken is just barely done, just a few minutes. Beat the eggs and pour them over the chicken mixture. Cover and allow to cook another minute, until the eggs have set.

To serve, place a scoop of rice in an individual bowl. Lay a section of the egg/chicken across the rice then ladle a small amount of broth over the top.

This post is my second for the Virtual Vacation Contest. I had a hard enough time narrowing down to just two recipes. Limiting to only one was out of the question. The previous vacation recipe was for bánh xèo.

Vietnam - Saigon never sleeps. Day or night, the traffic is an incomprehensible cacophany of scooters and honking horns as people weave among each other in an endless succession of near accidents. The sidewalks are subdivided into a patchwork quilt of rented squares, each small segment hosting a vendor. Black market CDs, wooden birdcages, magazines and colorful fabrics sit alongside food vendors, each offering their own specialty from makeshift stovetops.

For a while, I was hooked on the pho variations nearest my accomodations. As confidence grew, so did my circle of exploration, until one day I stumbled across my first bánh xèo down the end of a crooked alleyway. Cooked atop a charcoal brazier on a smoking hot griddle, bánh xèo were yellow "pancakes" enfolding bit of pork, shrimp and fresh bean sprouts, crispy outside yet soft inside. It was love at first bite. I devoured three in a row, each the size of a dinner plate but costing only 6500 dong (about $0.40/each).

I never was able to find my way back to that first alley stall again, but that day marked the start of my obsession. Every place we traveled, I kept my eyes open for bánh xèo. There was a cook in the central Ben Thanh market that did a decent job, and another further field in Dalat, but none that could match the first time.

Sadly, I include my own attempt below in the litany of failed huntings, even though my dinner guests couldn't stop eating them. I knew that they were too thick, leading to a slightly chewy texture, and that cooking on hot teflon couldn't match the flavor of a well-seasoned griddle. Each bánh xèo was cooked to order, a grueling but fun way to serve dinner, individual pancakes hot from the stovetop.

Bánh Xèo
Serves 3-4.

• 2 c. rice flour
• 1/2 t. tumeric
• 1 scallion, sliced very thin
• 1 3/4 c. water
• vegetable oil, for frying
• 1 lb. pork loin, sliced into thin strips
• 1 lb. medium/small shrimp, peeled
• 1 small onion, thinl sliced
• 1/2 lb. mushrooma, sliced
• salt and pepper
• 2-3 c. bean sprouts
• nuoc cham dipping sauce

Whisk together rice flour, tumeric, sliced scallion and water. It should be thinner then pancake batter, but because mine were still a little thick, I can't vouch for exactly how thin.

Heat a skillet on high until a drop of water dances on the surface. You'll want to keep the temp fairly high in order to get a crisp exterior. Add a teaspoon of oil, then add four slices of pork, a couple shrimp, some onion and mushrooms. Salt and pepper to taste. Cook, stirring occasionally, until pork is done. Ladle 1/2 c. batter over meat and vegetables and then cover with a lid. (I go heavy on the meat/shrimp so that it works better as an entree.) Wait a minute then spread bean sprouts over half pancake. Cover again and cook another minute or two. The pancake is done when the edges brown and curl up.

Fold in half and serve immediately with nuoc cham for dipping.

Variations:
→ Omit the pork and shrimp for a vegetarian version.
→ It is common to serve banh xeo with lettuce leaves and mint springs. To eat, tear off a portion of banh xeo, wrap in a lettuce leaf with mint and dip in the nuoc cham.
→ Substitute coconut milk for the water.

If you'd like to read more about bánh xèo vendors in Saigon, there is no more comprehensive nor entertaining reference than noodlepie. If only I'd had Graham's site at my fingertips back then!

This post was inspired by the Virtual Vacation Contest. I also wrote about my first taste of oyako donburi while visiting Tokyo.

Stories have started to arrive, but if you haven't sent yours yet, no worries. We're on "Hawaiian time," as people like to joke. Any time in the next day or two is just fine. My own entry isn't quite done, so it's not like I can complain.

Water, waves, tanning lotion and a towel? Skis, lodges, boots and fireplaces? Ships, shuttleboard, lounges and ballrooms.

A vacation doesn't always equate to a trip to an exotic or far off location. It could be that long drive out to the mountains, or that fishing trip you took with dad when you were 10; that camping with your Girl Scout Troop or those few days spent lounging in your PJs at home.

Maybe you've dreamed of something, maybe you've actually done it, maybe you're going to do it, or maybe, you're even AFRAID of doing it.

Whatever it is, we want to hear from you. Submit those vacation memories, along with a recipe to celebrate it to virtualvacation@maona@net by February 10th. Time is running out.

I'm certainly not the first person to pair medjool dates with a little honey. Variations on this theme have been around since at least Roman times, when Apicius is reputed to have boiled dates in a mix of honey and rosewater, tinted them with saffron then spread them on trays of briarwood.

The recipe below is far easier to assemble than the ancient version, and adds a local twist by incorporating gingered honey from the Big Island. Not only does it avoid refined sugar, but the bite-sized portions make it easy to stop eating after reasonable amount. Unless you can't stop at one or two. Or six.

Medjool Dates with Ricotta and Gingered Honey

• medjool dates
• fresh ricotta - fresh goat cheese works equally well
• almonds, lightly toasted
• Rare Hawaiian Organic White Honey with Organic Ginger - or stir a small portion of freshly grated ginger into the honey of your choice

Slice the dates in half and discard the pits. Stuff each half with cheese, lightly press an almond into the cheese then dribble honey over the top. Serve with a spiced tea for a simple dessert.

Now I have a confession to make: the dates weren't my first attempt for Sugar Low Friday. I had a brilliant idea for an apple tart seasoned with this same gingered honey, but to say that it flopped is an understatement. The apples didn't cook like I'd hoped, the honey got lost and the whole wheat crust tasted like a punishment.

It was bad, truly awful.

I wouldn't subject anyone to that tart, not even my worst enemy. Well... maybe the person that stole my chair off the front porch. You know who you are, and I'm saving a tart slice with your name on it. The dates, however, I'm keeping all for myself.

Tagged with: SHF # 15 + Low Sugar

Now that the holidays are behind us and memories of festivities fade with each passing day, there's little relief on the horizon for the working stiff. Most people save their vacations for the summer, and aside from scatter shot holidays there's not much time off between now and then. The next few months are basically vacation-free. Who says we can't celebrate a virtual vacation anyway?

Alan of Ma`ona and Reid of `Onokinegrindz are hosting a one-time food blog event, the Virtual Vacation Contest. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to think back to a memorable vacation and recreate a dish you had for the first time while traveling. Write about the dish, and possibly the stories behind it. Where were you, and what were you doing on that vacation? How successful were you at recapturing the flavors and sensations? Why is the dish important to you?

Then send an email by February 10th to virtualvacation@maona.net containing your name, the name of your blog, the permalink to your post, your location and (we're almost done) typical weather for your location in early February. Please make sure to include the words "Virtual Vacation Contest" in the subject line of your email. Reid and I will post a round-up of the entries soon after.

But wait, there's more! This is a contest after all, and what's a contest without a prize? We're in the process of selecting a panel of judges who will read all the entries and pick da kine to be the recipient of an `ono hand-picked gift basket of food from here in Hawaii. Don't stress over the contest aspect though. This is vacation, right? Rule #1 is to relax and enjoy yourself!

Your vacation spot could have been anywhere in the world, but if you're looking for inspiration of the tropical variety, these are Hawaiian food blogs from here and abroad:

→ AlohaMa's Kitchen (Yvette, the Big Island)
→ Big Island Grindz (James, the Big Island)
→ The Free Range Gourmet (Larry, Oahu)
→ Kaukau Time! (Reggie, Oahu)
→ Ma`ona (Alan, Oahu)
→ mmm-yoso!!! (Kirk, now in California)
→ Nattokun (Jupiter, Oahu)
→ `Onokinegrindz (Reid, Oahu)
→ A Passion for Food (Kathy, now in California)
→ Rubber Slippers in Italy (Rowena, now in Italy)

Any questions? If not, grab your beach towel and sunscreen then head to the kitchen. Mahalo for participating!

Man built most nobly when limitations were at their greatest.
    -- Frank Lloyd Wright

Maybe that's just me, but I'm at my most creative when options are limited, because I have to be imaginative to work within the constraints. Sam and Andrew have created a new event, Foodography, to bring out the best of our imagination and creativity by challenging food photographers each month to take photos on a shared theme. LIke a magnifying glass before the sun, the theme limits and focuses energies. We then offer the results for critique and appreciation. What a great way to improve the quality of our food photography!

The theme for this first time around: Oranges Aren't the Only Fruit. I decided to stick to a literal interpretation and photograph a non-citrus, orange-colored fruit. A stroll through Chinatown gave two options: persimmons and red papayas. The latter called out, appealing to both my stomach and my eye.

If you click through, please feel free to offer your own critique.

The shoot itself was terribly frustrating, with nothing working as easily as it should. I knew I wanted to use a blue background (the complementary color to orange), to help the foreground "pop." Unfortunately, the only blue on hand came in the form of a too-small, damp bath towel. No matter how I positioned it, the towel never stretched clear across the entire field of view. That forced me to zoom quite close; closer than I'd intended.

Add to the mix a pesky fly trying to eat the papayas and a two year old who wanted to use the towel as a cape, and natural light that waned with each passing cloud. I truly thought I would be hurling fruit at the walls before I got my shot.

In the end, I'm reasonably satisfied with the image, although I'm stopping far short of saying it was, "buit most nobly." The composition is conventional, there's no "story" in the photo and the focus is soft, but the colors are very close to what I'd hoped and I like that the shape of the papaya is almost iconic.

Camera	Olympus C70
Exposure	1/15 sec, F2.8, ISO80
Lighting	Natural sun through frosted glass w/ auto white balance
Post-processing	Gimp and Photoshop: contrast, saturation, crop/resize, minor touchup

"Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are." So spoke Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, legendary French gastronome. On the surface, it sounds like some sort of cheap parlor game, or maybe a fortune teller’s scam at a traveling circus, but the man had a point. What we eat is an everyday testament to our personal, cultural, and, some would say, political, experience. ~ Orangette

What do I eat, and what does it say about me? It changes from day to day, but here is an ordered list of my top ten foods I can't live without as of this very moment. Ask me again tomorrow and the answer will be different.

10Dark Chocolate - To badly misquote Airplane, "I like my chocolate black, like my women." Raised on Hershey's, I lived most of my life in ignorance that chocolate could and should be more. My favorite chocolates are very dark, very pure, with a bitter edge and no Hershey's waxiness.

9Blueberries ~ The best way to taste blueberries, bar none, is straight from the bush, slightly warm from the sun and juicy ripe. "U-pick" farms allow normal joes like myself to traipse up and down their orchards, picking as many blueberries as we want. Pricing is done by the pound, and always works out to a fraction of store prices, especially when you account for all the berries consumed during picking. I think my blue-stained tongue gave me away...

8Olives ~ Those little black slices that make their way from cans to the top of your favorite Seven-Layer Bean Dip aren't what I'm talking about. The best olives comes in jars from central California or southern Europe. No need to discriminate between black or green, as long as they've been well brined or cured.

7Shellfish ~ Clams, mussels, scallops, crabs, crawdaddies, shrimp, `opihi, lobsters, oysters... Prepare them any way you want, and chances are good that I'll devour them. I like seafood in general, but shellfish is the cream of all seafood. As a bonus, many shellfish varieties are reported to have aphrodesiac qualities. What does that say about me?

6Laulau ~ I'm not sure I can adequately describe the appeal of laulau until you're tasted it for yourself. To list the ingredients--luau leaves, pork and fish wrapped in ti leaves--doesn't begin to prepare you for the experience of a good laulau. You'll have to trust me on this one, but only until you can get to a Hawaiian restaurant and try one of your own.

5Fresh Bread - Munching fresh bread is fabulous, but perhaps even better than the eating are the associated aromas. It starts imperceptibly; flour, water, dry yeast and salt aren't odorous by themselves. Mixed as bread they come to life. As the bread begins to rise, the yeast blooms with fragrance, building the suspense. As the loaf cooks, the smell of hot bread becomes overwhelming, almost intoxicating. Hot out of the oven, slice and butter. The aroma of that butter melted across hot bread might be as close to heaven as we get.

4Pie ~ Pie has always been high on my list of favorite desserts, but it cemented its position there once I began to bake them myself. To cook a pie is to gain a deeper appreciation for it. My perfect pie contains fruit, is served warm, sweet but not too sweet, with a generous scoop of ice cream alongside.

3Poke ~ Was I the only grade school kid who begged his parents to take him to sushi bars? Poke is a lot like sushi but without all that rice in the way, replacing it island-style with limu, spices and a healthy dash of shoyu. Five years ago, I'd never heard of it, but already poke has become one of my favorite foods of all time.

2Fresh herbs ~ Nothing puts spring into the step of a limping meal better than liberal application of fresh herbs, preferably from my own yard. Favorites include basil (thai and italian), rosemary, sage and cilantro.

1Cheese - Cheese, glorious cheese. I could live on cheese and cheese alone. Hard, soft, demure, stinky, I like them all. To do: try fresh milk cheeses (unavailable in the United States). In the meanwhile, I'm the guy standing near the deli case trying not to drool on the glass as I choose my next cheese.

That's the list, my top ten foods of the moment and I'll defend my choices to the grave (or until I change my mind, whichever comes first). I'll leave it to you to draw you own conclusions about what that list says about me...

---

This post was written at the prompting of Messy Cucina as part of You Are What You Eat. Memes can be twisty buggers, but I traced this one to the origin. It started with Once Upon A Feast, then moved to Kalyn's Kitchen, Weekly Dish, Milk & Honey and Messy Cucina before arriving on my doorstep.

I'm tagging three people for the next round: Kirk from mmm-yoso!!!, Reid from Onokinegrindz and Gia-Gina from Gia-Gina in Italy.

Don't be lulled by the simple appearance of these candy squares. Although modest in form, they are the unsung stars of the Christmas plate, quickly devoured while more ornate cookies sit neglected. If smooth were a flavor, it would want to be called penuche (pronounced peh-NOO-chee). This brown sugar fudge melts in your mouth, beating traditional chocolate fudge hands down for richness.

My great-grandmother Nana used to make penuche long, long ago. My only memories of her look suspiciously like faded polaroids. Are those real memories, or remembrances of pictures I've seen? Fortunately for all of us, Nana passed the recipe to my grandmother, who in turn taught my mother. This past week, I called mom and asked her for the recipe. "I don't know if I'll make it this year," she explained. "It takes a lot of stirring, so I need to make it when I've got help around... Everyone loves it though." The tone in her voice tells that she's reconsidering as we speak.

Anecdotal reports date the introduction of penuche to the turn of the 20th century, with a peak in popularity in the 1920's to 1940's. Home candy-making has steadily declined since World War II to the point where few people seem to have heard of it today Oh, if they only knew what they were missing.

Penuche

These directions are nearly verbatim from my mother, and must be followed exactly. While making this batch, I read up on candy making in On Food and Cooking: The Science and Lore of the Kitchen and discovered that every instruction from this family recipe is guided by clear scientific principles all leading towards the smoothest, most predictable penuche.. Who knew the matriarchs in my family were such precise chemists?

• 1 c. brown sugar
• 2 c. granulated sugar
• 12 oz. evaporated milk (1 can)
• 1/8 t. baking soda
• 1 t. vanilla
• 1 c. walnuts or pecans, chopped (optional)

Bring the sugars, milk and baking soda to a boil in a saucepan over medium high heat, stirring constantly. If you let your guard down for even the briefest moment, the penoche notices and promptly scorches. It's obstinate that way.

Continue heating until the temperature reaches 236 degrees on a candy thermometer. If you don't have a candy thermometer, you can heat to a "soft ball." A few drops of candy into a glass of cold water should result in a ball that feels spongy and malleable to the touch. Stir frequently while heating to soft ball, but you don't have to obsess as much as when heating to the initial boil. By my clock, it took 25 minutes of stirring from start to soft ball stage. I can understand my mother's pause-- that's a long time to stir in front of a steaming pot of candy.

Set the saucepan on a wire rack to cool and don't disturb it until the temperature has dropped to 110 degrees, or as my mom described it, "you can barely hold your hand to the bottom of the pan." Stirring it too soon causes a grainier candy. When the candy has cooled enough, beat in the vanilla and nuts. Beat like mad for at least five minutes, or until the mass holds shape. This beating is crucial for the silkyness. Don't beat too long though or the mixture will become too stiff.

Turn the candy out in to a buttered 8x8 pan and press it down with a buttered spatula. Cut into squares when completely cool. Savor.

For more information on the science of making penuche, please see the followup prompted by comments below.

This post was submitted to the Virtual Cookie Swap hosted by The Domestic Goddess and Il Forno.

I had the pleasure of being a judge in this month's edition of Does My Blog Look Good In This, hosted by Alice at My Epicurean Debauchery. The winners have been announced, and as you can see, the images are on par with anything you'd see in a glossy cooking magazine. Amazing work across the board, and that's from someone with a critical eye for photography. The complete set of entries can be found here.

O`ahu, Hawai`i. We've got world class beaches, sunsets so beautiful as to make grown men cry and more tropical fruit varieties than you can imagine. But wineries? Not a single one. Lenn explains this month's Wine Blogging Wednesday theme, Drink Local, Real Local,

This time around...there's only one rule: Drink a wine from the winery nearest to your apartment/house/shack/bungalow/flat/tent. Wine is being made in every state and just about every country so it's time that the "eat local" movement be extended to vino for WBW.

Lacking any truly local options on O`ahu, I expanded my search to include the neighboring island of Maui. Tedeschi Vineyards sits on the slopes of Mount Haleakala, deep upcountry. When the vineyard was first planted in 1977 on a portion of historic Ulupalakua Ranch, the winemakers had to wait several years before their vines would mature to fruition. In the intervening time, they experimented with other types of wine, and developed their popular Maui Blanc wine from pineapples!

To the eye: Crystal clear and a very pale yellow. If it were any more pale, it would be clear. The bottle indicates that caramel coloring has been added, so perhaps in unaltered form it looks like water.

To the nose: Ripe, almost overripe pineapple is dominant. Have you ever picked through a pile of pineapples, where one or two had leaked juice and that juice had fermented in the sun? It smells like that. Underneath, we could detect pear and caramel notes. It made me think of a warm pear dessert drizzled with caramel. Normally I'm not able to get this specific with my notes, but the smells connected directly to specific sense memories.

To the mouth: The wine assaults the front of the tongue with sweet pineapple, and then finishes crisper and medium dry. Imagine, if you will, an average dry table wine, into which someone has poured a good splash of canned pineapple concentrate.

To the wallet: About $10.

I have no idea how pineapple wine ages--I suspect you want it as fresh as possible. The bottle we purchased gave no indication of date, but didn't seem to have aged (for better or for worse). Overall, I wasn't impressed with this wine. It gets points for the novelty factor, but that novelty wears thin after a few sips. Serve it with a spicy Hawaiian Fusion meal to complete an island themed dinner.

Tedeschi Vineyards does produce several drinkable, although not exceptional, red, white and sparkling wines. I've tried samples of most of them, and would drink them again if the price were right. If Tedeschi isn't your style, there's a second commercial vineyard in Hawai`i. Volcano Winery is located on the Big Island.

[This post arrives several days early because I'm heading out on a short trip to the island of Moloka`i. There are no vineyards to be found on Moloka`i either.]

Brian, Maui Blanc and I surfing local.

Green tea has been my favorite ice cream for as long as I can remember. As early as elementary school, a highlight of a sushi dinner was the bright green bowl waiting at meal's end. "There's always room for ice cream!"

Green tea ice cream is so smooooth, and the tannins temper the sweetness compared to other ice creams. It's an ice cream for when you want to feel grown-up and nuanced, regardless of your age.

• 2 c cream
• 2 c. milk
• 3/4 c sugar
• 1/4 c. matcha
• 1/4 t salt
• 4 eggs

Special equipment: an ice cream maker.

Matcha is a green tea powder, traditionally used in Japanese tea ceremonies, that can be found in specialty tea shops and larger Asian groceries. I acquired a small envelope of matcha at L'Epicier in Ala Moana. The proportions in the ingredient list above will give you a fairly aggressive tea flavor for your ice cream. Reduce the the matcha to as little as two tablespoons for a more delicate approach.

The key to this ice cream is patience. Custard style ice creams use eggs to add richness, and must be cooked very gently to prevent clumping. Place all the ingredients in a medium saucepan and heat slowly over medium low heat, stirring constantly, until it begins to thicken. How thick? It will begin to resist the spoon, but still be very liquid. Imagine mixing heavy latex paint-- it shoudl be that thick. Scrape down the sides and bottom as you stir. If you fail to keep the mixture circulating, it will cook unevenly and you'll end up with bits of scrambled egg!

Pour the mixture through a fine mesh strainer into a bowl, especially if a few lumps formed despite your heroic diligence. (I usually get a few small lumps. Shhhh, don't tell.) Cool in the fridge for 2-3 hours, then freeze in an ice cream maker according to manufacturer's instructions.

[This Is My Blog Burning? entry is on the theme tasteTea hosted by A La Cuisine!].

Reid over at Ono Kine Grindz has tagged me to continue the five favorite (cook) books meme. This was just what the doctor ordered to get me writing again after being swamped with life and work. (Click through to Reid's post to see the geneology of the meme, as far back as he could determine.)

Total number of (cook) books I’ve owned: Currently sitting at 41, although I purged at least a dozen during our last move. Counting the cookbooks from other housemates, a total of 79 sit at my fingertips. I've posted a panoramic of the shelf before.

Last (cook) book(s) I bought: The Food of Paradise: Exploring Hawaii's Culinary Heritage. I've been seeking a Hawaiian cookbook that covers indigenous dishes in depth, talking story about the foods and their preparation methods. Food of Paradise moves in the right direction, but still falls short. I'm beginning to think the book I want doesn't exist.

Last (food) book I read: I'm nearly finished with M.F.K. Fisher's An Alphabet for Gourmets. Where has she been all my life? Such wit!

Five (cook) books that mean a lot to me:

1. The Household Searchlight Recipe Book, published 1939

   Yellowed pages, plenty of stains, scraps of recipes stuffed between the pages and most importantly, originally my grandmother's. Many of the recipes seem quaint by today's standards, but others are brilliant and timeless.

   Several years ago I was in a used book store and happened to overhear a lady asking the clerk for this specific cookbook. My cash flow at the time... wasn't. Dollar signs flashed before my eyes and for a brief moment I considered selling my family copy of the Searchlight to a complete stranger. Good sense prevailed and it remains the matriarch of the cookbook shelf.

2. The French Laundry Cookbook

   My food porn. I look to this book for non-specific inspiration, attempting recipes only when I serendipitously stumble across the unusual ingredients most dishes seem to require. Most recently, I made Pacific Moi with Fresh Soybeans, Scallion and Radish Salad, and Soy-Temple Orange Glaze after I happened on fresh Hawaiian moi at my favorite Chinatown fishmonger. The only thing that overshadowed the moi was my tremendous sense of accomplishment!

3. Cheese making at home: The complete illustrated guide

   I found this gem for twenty-five cents at a library book sale. The binding is separating and whole chapters are trying desparately to break free. Cheese is my ambrosia, and this book explains in plain language how to make it at home.

4. How To Cook Everything

   How to Cook Everything is my current "go to" cookbook. Technically it belongs to a housemate, but when she gets married in a few months and moves out, I'll either pilfer her copy (okay, just kidding. mostly.) or buy my own.

5. the unknown Mexican cookbook

   I haven't found this book yet, but I have faith that it's out there, yearning for a place on my shelf. The best huevos rancheros and frijoles ever were at a dusty truckstop somewhere a few hours east of Mazatlan. Where is a cookbook to help me recreate those flavors? I don't want a cookbook of Tex-Mex, nor some Fusion Mex. I definitely don't want any book that includes mention of cheddar cheese as a garnish. I want a solid Mexican cookbook. After I have this one, my collection will be complete. Well, and after I have an indigenous Hawaiian cookbook. And maybe Bouchon.

   Who am I kidding. I'll be buying cookbooks long after I'm too old and frail to cook for myself.

Which 5 people would you most like to see fill this out in their blog?

I'm pretty shy, so I wasn't able to come up with a full list of five. Instead, I'm tagging two friends who don't normally write about food but both love to cook: ASNN and (pronounced lock-lin). Both are smart guys that don't write nearly as often as they should.

1. Rationale behind what we're seeing?
My subconscious has been itching for an excuse to talk about the cookbooks in our house, and Anthony at Spiceblog knew just what to say to bring that out. Only the leftmost third of the shelf is mine. Sadly, I culled the weak from the herd during our last move and am now regretting it. Cookbooks are like friends. I don't always keep in touch as well as I should, but I never forget them either.

To know to whom the rest belong would require a sordid trip through the history of this house and its past and present occupants. "The Idiots Guide to Cooking Chicken" isn't being claimed by anyone and should probably be burned.

2. Most recommended?
Right now? With Sam Choy: Cooking from the Heart, because it's the one that best tells me what to do with the funky local ingredients I find in Chinatown. It also lacks even the slightest whiff of pretension. Sam Choy da kine.

3. Cookbook that made you what you were?
Although I don't crack it open as often as I used to, I can point to one cookbook on that shelf and identify it as the pivotal point that turned me from consumer to cook. Age fifteen and armed with the stereotyped appetite of a teenage boy, I scavanged our kitchen for an after school snack and came up with a bag of green apples. Armed with my mom's Good Housekeeping Illustrated Cookbook and a healthy dash beginner's luck, I made an apple pie that has become legendary in my family. Mom wasn't irked at the tremendous path of destruction I left behind in the kitchen, but that my crust turned out better than hers.

4. Porniest cookbook?
Same as a lot of people: The French Laundry Cookbook. Different from a lot of people: I've actually made recipes from the cookbook. Different from everyone else on the entire planet: the book liner is scrawled in fat permanent marker from our visit there, "Alan and Junko, It's all about finesse. Thomas Keller." The beautiful imagery in this volume and the care with which the techniques are described... breathtaking.

5. Sophie's Choice cookbook?
Faced with the option to save only one, I think I'd pick How To Cook Everything. It says it right in the title, "Everything." That should cover most bases.

6. If you were a cookbook, which cookbook would you be?
This one has me stumped. The problem with cookbooks is that they are commited to the printed page and then bound for all eternity, or the next edition. Recipes are jumping off places, and I rarely make the same thing twice. If I've gotta be a cookbook, then I'm the filing box under the bed where I organize recipe clippings and notes. It's sorted, but loose. Things can come and go.

7. If your cookbook were extremely valuable, so valuable you might hide it with other valuables, where would that place be?
The French Laundry Cookbook is hidden in a closet, far from the grubby fingers of a two year old. So far, the dust jacket has dodged several near misses and remains like new. Other valuable cookbooks are tucked in my nightstand where I can read them cover-to-cover. Currently in the nightstand (as I lean over to check) are Tradewinds & Coconuts, The Food of Paradise: Exploring Hawaii's Culinary Heritage and I-know-it-isn't-a-cookbook-but MFK Fisher's An Alphabet for Gourmets.

Ward Rafters is the kind of place that attracts stories around itself, some of them strange enough to be true. The version I heard is that Dr. Ward had left medical practice to pursue his dream of being a professional professional jazz musician, touring the country. He'd also always dreamed of having a jazz club of his own, and so he and his wife Jackie remodeled the attic of their Diamond Head home into a cozy venue for friends and friends of friends. The day they finished remodeling, Dr. Ward died. Hey, I said some of this is strange. I'm just repeating what I've been told.

Dr. Ward is gone, but the club lives on. Between Jackie's socialite connections and her husband's old friends in The Scene, she has a steady stream of musicians passing through town who make time in their schedules to come play. Zoning laws prohibit any advertisement, admission charges or the serving of food--this place is strictly word of mouth. (When neighbors filed a lawsuit, lawyer patrons of the club defended Jackie pro bono, and won.) It's the kind of place where regulars know each other by name, and most everyone brings a bottle of wine.

We decided to pass on the Mother's Day crowds at every restaurant in the city and instead spend our afternoon at Ward Rafters with a bottle of 2004 Crios de Susana Balbo Rosé of Malbec ($14). The Rosé of Malbec has a rich garnet color, like a White Zin that has grown up, moved out and spent a few years in the real world. It has both sparkle and depth. Lifting glasses to our noses, we smelled "fruit." That's helpful, eh? Maybe with practice we could wax rhapsodic about a nose of cloves and fresh bing cherries, but for today it was just fruit. We did better on taste, identifying both strawberries and watermelon, with a hint of carbonation dancing on our tongues. The wine has sweetness to it, but tempered by mild tartness and acidity. It has weight on the tongue, with a clean, dry finish.

This rosé is produced in Argentina by seasoned winemaker Susana Balbo from 100% malbec grapes. Did you know that red and white wines can be made from the same grapes? The difference is in when they remove the grape skins. For this rosé they use the saignée method to find a happy medium between red and white: some of the free run juice from the pressing is reintroduced at later stages of fermentation to boost the skins-to-juice ratio and increase color, tannin and flavor. The word crios from the wine's name means "offspring," a tribute to her children and a reflection that these wines haven't "grown up" as much as the others she produces. Don't be fooled though, this rosé is nothing to be ashamed about.

Maybe my critical palate was softened by the whole experience: the music, the strange stories, the hanging with friends and sipping wine. People and place can make even mediocre wine taste wonderful. Is that what happened here? I don't think so. I'd expressed earlier reservations at the Think Pink! Wine Blogging Wednesday theme, and I'm happy to report that my fears were unfounded. This was a refreshing and complex wine for sipping on a hot Mother's Day afternoon at the Rafters.

In The French Laundry Cookbook, Thomas Keller describes the goal behind his amuse-guele soups, "Soup is simple. Identify your ingredient, cook it perfectly, and adjust the consistency." The cookbook contains a total of only three soup recipes, but he shares tantalizing hints to how he approaches others. For carrots, he has this to say, "They're a root vegetable, so you glaze them. If you glaze them perfectly, there's your soup--just adjust the consistency with stock or other liquid... One spoonful of carrot soup should deliver the flavor of several carrots." That's not much to go on for a recipe, but it served as my inspiration.

After missing most recent Wine Blogging Wednesday due to a computer crash, I'm doubly intent on getting back on the wagon for the coming one. Hosted by Becks and Posh, the theme for this go around is "Think Pink!". Find a rosé wine, taste it and write about the experience on May 11th.

This one will be a challenge for me. The only pink variety with which I have any experience is White Zinfandel, described to me long ago by only-God-remembers-who as a gateway wine. Sweet, light and lacking substance, it's the wine for people who don't drink wine. It gets people their first taste, sucks them in and gets them hooked on real wine drinking. When you grow up, you move to more substantial wines--wines that are moody, complex and that can hold their own in a barroom brawl.

My goal is to find a pink wine that I like well enough to break my (unfair?) stereotypes about pink wines; a wine I can throw back at my friends when they snicker. I want a really good pink wine.

I've wanted to try my hand at a curry and chocolate dessert for some time, and this month's Is My Blog Burning theme of My Little Cupcake provided the incentive to finally get off my butt and do something about it. The recipe below is entirely my own, as much as anyone can say that while building upon the techniques and inspirations gleaned from a lifetime of eating cupcakes.

Chocolate Curry Cupcakes

• 1/2 c. all-purpose flour
• 1/2 c. cake flour (use more all-purpose flour if that's what you have)
• 1 c. sugar
• 1/2 t. baking soda
• 1/4 t. salt
• 1/2 cup cocoa powder
• 1 T. curry powder
• dash of cayenne pepper
• 1/2 c. buttermilk
• 1 c. water
• 1 t. vanilla
• 1/2 c. butter, room temperature
• 1 egg

Makes 36 mini cupcakes, or 18 regular cupcakes.

Preheat oven to 375 and lightly grease mini cupcake pans. Sift the dry ingredients together into a large bowl. Mix in the softened butter. Gradually beat in buttermilk and water. Add in the egg and beat until just mixed. Pour into muffin pans and cook for 15-20 minutes for mini cupcakes. Regular sized cupcakes will take slightly longer, but are done when a knife inserted into the middle comes out clean.

Lemongrass Infused Coconut Buttercream Frosting

• 3 stalks fresh lemongrass
• 1/3 c. coconut milk (partial can)^*
• 2 c. powdered sugar, sifted
• 1 c. butter, room temperature
• 1/4 t. salt
• 2 egg whites
• 1 1/2 c. shredded coconut

Peel the toughest outer leaves off the lemongrass and mince the bottom inch of each stalk. Combine the minced lemongrass with the coconut milk in a small sauce pan and heat slowly to a simmer. Turn off the heat and let the coconut and lemongrass mixture steep for 30 minutes before pouring it through a fine strainer. Discard the strained bits of lemongrass.

Just a quick note before we go any further. When the ingredient list says to sift the powdered sugar, I mean it. Seriously. I ignored my own advice and had to toss my first batch of frosting because I couldn't get rid of the lumps during mixing.

Blend the butter and 1 cup of sugar until smooth and creamy, then mix in the coconut milk. In a separate bowl, whip the egg whites to stiff peaks. Slowly mix the last cup of sugar into the egg white mixture and then whip to peaks again. Gently blend together the egg white mixture and the butter mixture.

Frost each cupcake generously then press upside down into a bowl containing the shredded coconut to coat the frosting with coconut.

The Results

You should now have many tiny chocolate cupcake with a tame but noticeable spicy bite, smothered in rich coconut buttercream frosting. They're sweet enough to be unequivocably dessert-ish, but with enough savory curry to raise an eyebrow.

In my house, we have a ritual after each new meal where we ask the cook, "If you were to do this recipe again, what would you change?" This is my first ever attempt at creating a recipe from scratch, so there are a number of minor changes I'd make. First, I think a buttercream frosting might be too rich for this particular cupcake. It's good, but I'm not convinced it makes a perfect pairing. If I were to stick with the buttercream, I'd want to think long and hard about how to bring more coconut and especially lemongrass to the forefront. Those flavors are there, but I'd like them to stand more distinct. I'd also consider tossing handful of chocolate chips into the cupcake batter, just because I love that explosion of pure chocolate flavor. These quibbles are minor though. In general I'm pleased with my cupcakes. In the words of one housemate, "I couldn't wrap my brain around the idea of curry and chocolate. Don't mess with my chocolate! But these are really good. The spice is there, but balanced."

^*Try using the leftover coconut milk to cook a couple cups of rice. Use it in place of some or all of your cooking water, also adding a half cup chopped onion and 1 teaspoon each of tumeric, minced ginger and crushed garlic before cooking the rice.

The best part about Wine Blogging Wednesdays is trying new and unfamiliar wines and varietals. My normal wine buying rut is from the bargain bin, and some of the selections to be found in there are, to be gracious, questionable. WBW forces me to do my research, usually pay a small but reasonable amount more, and taste something completely new and often superior.

This month, for the theme of Obscure Red Wines, I caught a wine distributer in the aisles and we talked through options. Tempranillo? Not allowed by the rules. Pinotage? South Africa was pretty well covered last month. Malbec? What's that? I departed with a bottle of Terrazas de Los Andes Reserva Malbec 2002 in hand.

I'll assume that you're in the same boat as me and have little prior knowledge of Malbec grapes. Obscurity was the point. I've found a great article singing the praises of Argentinian Malbecs from the Mendoza region, but if you don't want to read the whole thing it can be summed up as this: the climate on the slopes of the Andes is so well-suited to growing Malbec grapes that France, once the main producer of Malbec, barely bothers any longer.

No place is perfect. But for Malbec, this region is very close indeed. The wines are big, rich and deeply flavored, yet rounded and luxurious in texture. Their softness permits early enjoyment, but they also age well. Similarly, the wines are sufficiently rich to stand up to red meat dishes, but soft enough to work with pork, veal or grilled fish steaks.

My own tasting notes...

Appearance: Deep plum red, going to cranberry at the edges.

Smell: The first thing to hit the nose was lots of oak, followed by paper and a hint of sawdust. As the wine was allowed to breath, the oak aromas faded, giving way to rich berries.

Flavor: If the flavor were as intense as the intial oak smell, it'd be like chewing on a tree branch, but instead the oak taste recedes. The wine feels round and smooth on the tongue, with both the tannins and flavors I associate with nearly ripe plums.

Food pairing: I had a glass of this all by itself at the end of a long day, and it stands up nicely on it's own. I could imagine serving this with pasta or alongside a spicier chicken.

Price: $14

I'd definitely buy this one again.

I signed up for an interesting meme called "1000 Recipes," instigated by Santos at the scent of green bananas. Book one came from her (Guam) to me, and after me will head to Reid at 'Ono Kine Grindz, also here in Honolulu, before continuing it's journey by heading down to spiceblog in Australia. Check out the complete mailing list for this book.

These are images of my contribution:

Wine Blogging Wednesday #7 was announced last week, but I've had family in town from the mainland, prying me far from my keyboard. Duties as tour guide, cook and guest house proprietor all took precedence over writing. Now that the family is safely back on a plane, normal life can resume. Enough about me, let's talk wine.

Hosted by Andrew at Spittoon.biz, the Wine Blogging Wednesday theme this go around is Obscure Red Grape Varieties. Think of it as your chance to pass over the Pinot, to skip the Syrah, to miss the Merlot. (Okay, that's getting silly.) Step out and try something totally new. Andrew provides a list of specific wine varieties too mainstream for consideration, as well as pointers to a number of other good options. Go out, find your obscure red and write about it by March 9th.

Today is Wine Blogging Wednesday again, and for the sixth iteration of WBW we were instructed by Cook Sister to pick a red wine from her mother country, South Africa. I confess great ignorance about South African wines, so I found Jeanne's extensive orientations to be helpful.

Several friends have asked me to give notice when I learned of the next Wine Blogging Wednesday. It has just been announced that Jeanne is hosting the next edition Wednesday, February 16th on South African Reds. Sometime between now and then, find yourself a bottle of red wine from South Africa, write about it and post your thoughts on WBW. That's less than two weeks away, so don't waste any time. Jeanne's announcement is packed with information about the history of the SA wine industry, along with tips to help you pick something drinkable. Enjoy!

Once very month, wine lovers and bloggers taste and then write on an common theme for Wine Blogging Wednesdays. This month's slightly irreverent but thoroughly enjoyable theme is "wacky wine names" hosted by Chez Pim.

To shop for this WBW, I spent a solid half hour wandering the aisles at Tamura's Fine Wines on Waialae, with one of their staff pointing out the wackiest names. "That sounds like lots of fun!" she gushed. After passing by several names that tried to be wacky through simple puns or names about animals (Cardinal Zin and Fat Bastard [Pig], respectively) we came across a Goats Do Roam White 2003 ($9.99), one that manages to do both! The name is a playful twist on the C�tes du Rh�ne region of France and, um, a goat. The back label explains the latter,

One afternoon, at harvest time, my mischievious son Jason and his friend Justin let the goats out of their tower and sent them for a walkabout amongst the vines. As in the legend of the Yemeni goat header, whose roaming flock first discovered the joys of coffee beans, our goats picked out the best and tastiest fruit. Their choice serves as our inspiration for this wine. To Life!

Research on the wine revealed a few things:

• People are either charmed by the name, or annoyed by it. The French INAO (Institut National des Appellations d'Origine) was so annoyed that they filed a lawsuit over similarites to the C�tes du Rh�ne appellation.
• Although the bottle gives no indication, the wine contains a blend of Crouchen, Clairette, white Grenache and Muscat grapes.
• Earlier vintages of this wine were pretty skunky, often apparently due to poor corks. The 2003 has received better reviews, especially for the price.

Here are thoughts from "people on the street," also known as cooperative and longsuffering friends within arms reach:

Mel, thinker Fresh and lively, with peach, anise and floral flavors, and a round, juicy texture. Wine Spectator told me to say that.	Yours Truly, consultant I give my thoughts in the next paragraph and would hate to ruin the surprise.	Brenda, counselor See my big smile? I don't drink much wine, but this was fun!
Makana, university professor Wine, and this wine in particular, signifies a systemic reshaping of our values by forces from outside our community.	Junko, animator I liked the wine, but if you use this picture I'll kill you.	Toshi, toddler How much is 21 minus 1? Is that how long I have to wait? The Wine Buyer says, "Drink now."

I served the wine alongside a French onion soup and poached snapper salad with honey and lime vinaigrette. My first impression was that I didn't have any impression. Nothing stood out. The wine was very light bodied, with such balanced flavors that I, for the first time I can remember, had a terrible time isolating specific flavors. After considerable furrowing of my brow, I thought I could maybe pick out generic fruitiness and a hint of licorice. The wine has a clean finish, with no offensive aftertastes. The color was a light, crystal clear yellow. Overall, the Goats Do Roam White 2003 was fine without being memorable.