Cocktails. In pie form.

Madison.

There's always good stuff at Star Liquor. Last night, after a quick stop for some essentials at the Willy Street Co-op, we picked up the following goodies:

• A bottle of Maker's Mark bourbon. I was down to the last little bit of Knob Creek, and needed to make sure I had some whiskey¹ around. I had a little of each last night, for comparison. The Maker's Mark has more of the caramel and vanilla-type flavors that I associate with barrel aging, and less of the distinct bourbony corn flavor than the Knob Creek. That said, I'd be quite happy drinking either.
  
  
• Dry vermouth. Since it gets used as a cooking wine regularly around here, I haven't been able to make a dry martini in quite some time. And this after John Neely emailed me about his discovery that pickled ginger - the pink kind that comes with sushi - makes for a fine martini garnish. John, I should note, is a man who knows how to appreciate a true gin martini.
  
  
• Godiva and Kahlua liqueurs. Sharon uses these, not just for White Russians and spiked hot chocolate², but also for flavoring cookies and other baked goods. Instead of using vanilla extract, she'll make cookies with a subtle coffee of enhanced chocolate flavor. The orange-flavored liqueurs also make for fantastic chocolate chip cookies.
  
  
• New Glarus's Unplugged Enigma beer. I haven't opened one yet, but it looks interesting. This is another in a series of one-off beers that Dan Carey's been brewing from time to time, indulging whatever unusual ideas pop into his head. This appears to be a mash-up between the previous Unplugged Sour Brown Ale and the regular Wisconsin Belgian Red.

The guys at Star also handed me a flyer for an upcoming whiskey tasting, which is very tempting. I don't know anything more than what's on the flyer, so I'll simply include the text right here:

Single Malt Scotch
& Bourbon Whiskey
Tasting

A benefit for Madison's Urban Open
Space Foundation (Central Park)

Thursday, Jan 25, 2007
6:30 - 9:30
Fyfe's Corner Bistro
$40 per ticket

available at
Star Liquor
Specialty appetizers will
accompany the tasting.

sponsored in part by Union Cab

Good thing they're upfront about the taxi connection. Perhaps that's a hint that I should plan to take the following day off of work.

Speaking of interesting booze-related stuff I've noticed recently, there was a fascinating recipe in this Sunday's New York Times Magazine for Dick Taeuber’s Cordial Pie. It is, in essence, a sliceable cocktail in a crust. The best part of this recipe, in my opinion, is that it's so flexible. You can flavor it as any sort of cocktail you like, though it seems that creamier drinks would fare better. (Irish coffee is a notable exception.) And as the Miette Cakes recipe notes, you can tweak the presentation as you please. Ice cream sandwiches? Sure! Why not a grown-up parfait, or a sophisticated replacement for ice cream alongside cake or pie?

But as Amanda Hesser puts it: "Calling it a cordial pie doesn’t quite capture its punch or proof. Booze pie would be more fitting. It’s not the kind of thing you want to serve for a children’s birthday party."

* * * * *

¹As opposed to whisky, with no 'e', which is the proper spelling for Scotch whisky, single-malt and otherwise. That, of course, is also a necessary standard in my liquor cabinet. The Scotch of the moment is a lovely small-batch, cask-strength, non-chill-filtered whisky called A'bunadh from the Aberlour distillery in Speyside.

²In college, my roommates and I liked to use peppermint schnapps in our hot chocolate. If for no other reason than we had a bottle and found that was one of the few ways it was actually pleasant.

A movie not recommended for that first date.

Madison.

It's nearly November - meaning the start of NaNoWriMo is nigh - and I'm struggling to select a concept. I'd come up with four ideas around mid-October, with the intention of fleshing them out so that I could select one to pursue. It's slower going than expected. I've eliminated two of the initial four options, leaving me to choose between a western-inflected horror story and a Cronenbergian¹ story about people seeking thrills through amateur surgery and self-mutilation.

I'm leaning toward the western, because it lends itself to plugging in simple cliches when necessary. The second story, in order to keep it from being thoroughly unreadable dreck, needs some serious thought and, potentially, time-intensive research. NaNoWriMo doesn't offer that sort of time luxury. That said, the half-formed parts that've been dancing in my head for some time are really the most fascinating of all of the noveling options. Perhaps it's best that I give them a more serious opportunity at a later date.

Alone for the weekend, and without much to fill my schedule, I decided to rent some movies and stay home.² I hadn't really thought too much about it ahead of time, except that I knew I wanted to watch at least one disturbing film. Just about all of the good³ horror films were out - Night of the Living Dead was high on my list - as expected. I ended up with Yojimbo by Akira Kurosawa, Fistful of Dollars by Sergio Leone (a Spaghetti Western remake of Kurosawa's film), and Crash by David Cronenberg⁴. Without intending to, I had selected three films that could be quite influential on the upcoming novel.

Also: auteur central.

Yojimbo looks like a Western⁵ in samurai togs; Kurosawa readily expressed the influence John Ford, among others, had on his films. The plot, in brief: Sanjuro, a ronin played by Toshiro Mifune, arrives in a small village controlled by two competing gangs who gamble and fight constantly. The only honest man who can make a living is the cooper who builds coffins. Sanjuro plays both gangs against each other in an escalating series of deadly battles. Full of action, beautifully composed shots - as though one would expect anything else from a Kurosawa film - and humor, it's about as free of complicated morality as any Kurosawa film could ever be. Basically, it's a well-made popcorn film. Note: most of what we now consider cliches, like the wise-cracking action hero in Yojimbo, or pretty much everything about Seven Samurai, was clever and original to Kurosawa's films. (Or else archetypes.)

Sergio Leone, another great director with a love for all things Americana, remade Yojimbo as one of his antihero-based Westerns. The US marketing sold this film - along with For A Few Dollars More and The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly - as one about "The Man With No Name", played by Clint Eastwood. He has a name, actually. And is a different character - though he dresses the same, and has many of the same characteristics - in each of the three films. First Joe, then Monco, then Blondie, even though he's got mid-range brown hair. Beats me.

The camera angles - including the juxtapositions of wide-angle landscapes with extreme close-ups - in Fistful of Dollars are pure Leone. Ennio Morricone⁶ did the score, which was his first time working with Leone, and it's fun, even though it's not as memorable⁷ as the themes to The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly and Once Upon a Time in The West. As usual, Leone picked actors with very distinctive features; you'd never expect to see faces like those in this movie working in Hollywood today. He also, like in all of his films, had his actors deliver their lines in their native language, then dubbed over it as necessary for different releases. It can make following the dialogue a bit difficult at times, but I've got to believe he did that to get better performances from actors selected, in some cases, more for their wrinkled, sun-toughened looks than their dramatic chops. If nothing else, the films of Sergio Leone can be appreciated purely for their style, long before Quentin Tarantino arrived on the scene.⁸

Crash has nothing to do with those films. Okay, there's a brief moment where we see a videotape of a pornographic film titled A Fistful of Bimbos on the floor of James Ballard's car, but that's just Cronenberg humor.⁹

Promotional posters for the film prominently featured the phrase "sex and car crashes" from a critic's review, and that covers the plot territory pretty well. In short, a car crash draws a man suffering from a sort of sexual burnout into an underground group that fetishizes and recreates famous car crashes. James Ballard and his wife, Catherine, can't drum up the interest for sex anymore without telling each other about their extramarital affairs. After the crash, James and Dr. Helen Remington - the other driver, whose husband is killed in the accident - discover Vaughan, the mastermind of the car crash recreators and a man deeply obsessed with celebrities, cars, and death. Also sex: all of this car crashing is very sexually charged, but filmed in such a way - a cool, metallic color palette; an aloofness from the characters that borders on clinical detachment; Howard Shore's creepy score¹⁰; and it's a sexual fetish that's just too far out there to be real - that it's like pornography that's arousing intellectually, but not physically. If you don't feel weirdly conflicted by that while watching, it's probably because you're having a hard time actually looking at the screen. (Or you're focusing on exposed flesh while ignoring the story itself.)

That wouldn't be unusual. Crash was given an NC-17 rating, and it's definitely not the sort of film you'd want to bring your kids to.¹¹ Among other things, it includes: realistic (i.e., not Hollywood-type stylized) car crashes, complete with steady shots of the bloody aftermath; full frontal nudity; and sex - lots of it - both heterosexual and homosexual. And, unlike just about every other film ever made,¹² the sex scenes are integral both to the narrative and to the flow of the film. They're not simply separate scenes that act as a pause or break in the story arc; they're necessary and need to be in the film in their entirety, graphic sexuality and all. And, boy, are they not a turn-on.

I think this film requires that you bring a lot to it; as a result, reviews cover a wide range of emotional ground. You can't watch it without being affected by your own visceral¹³ response, and the film is so detached from its characters that you need to bring some of your own baggage along to start interpreting. At least, that's what I did. Granted, I need some serious digestion time before I can get around to writing up my own impressions of the film, but I can say that I think I actually liked it. I definitely respect it, and would recommend it to anyone not immediately turned off by the premise.

Just don't expect it to go over real well in a crowd.

* * * * *

¹Cronenbergesque? Anyhow, the idea's based on what little I know of David Cronenberg's abandoned script, Painkillers, as well as his film of J.G. Ballard's novel, Crash.

²The riot-inducing Madison Halloween festivities are another good reason to lounge on the couch. I'm guessing that the "tickets-only" restrictions kept the shenanigans to a minimum this year, but it's still not my scene.

³Meaning straight-up horror. Nothing ironic, regardless of quality.

⁴Not the more recent movie that used the same name, which is officially not cool. Really, couldn't they come up with an original name? It's one thing to title a film like an un- or tangentially-related book/song/whatever, but swiping it from another movie? And one that took a Special Jury Prize at Cannes? Cheap.

⁵It was based on a detective novel - Red Harvest by Dashiell Hammet - which is a genre equally as rooted in American individualism, machismo, and the notion that you don't really need to follow up on the bloody aftermath of gunfights.

⁶I just noticed, next to Monday's New York Times crossword puzzle, a brief Arts article noting that Morricone will be directing his first American concert at Radio City Music Hall in February. The program is drawn from his film scores, and features a 200-piece orchestra and choir. So, who'd they get to play the mouth harp?

⁷As in the way Morricone's best stuff just burrows deep into your brain and refuses to leave.

⁸Tarantino has noted Sergio Leone as a strong influence on his films, and it shows, particularly in Kill Bill.

⁹Yes, Cronenberg's full of humor. It's what prevents his films from being unwatchably disturbing.

¹⁰This isn't about Howard Shore, but it occurs to me now. Shore has written the score for just about all of Cronenberg's films; the key exception is The Dead Zone, for which he was unavailable due to other work. Instead, Cronenberg hired Michael Kamen. While writing the piano score in his London apartment, Kamen's neighbors begged him to stop playing it because it was giving them nightmares.

¹¹I say this because, when seeing Danny Boyle's 28 Days Later, a zombie film with no shortage of graphic violence, Sharon and I watched with surprise as a young mother came into the theater with her two children, the older of whom couldn't have been more than five or six.

¹²Excepting pornography, of course, which is about sex for the sake of sex. Roger Ebert described Crash as "anything but pornographic" and "a dissection of the mechanics of pornography".

¹³Matthew Dessem makes a good point about the use of the term "visceral" in his review of Pier Paolo Pasolini's Salò o le 120 Giornate di Sodoma. His blog, The Criterion Contraption, an attempt to review the Criterion Collection DVD releases in spine number order, is worth reading if you're into, well, the sorts of films that Criterion likes to release. Salò is the sort of film that I'd like to have seen; I'm not sure I'd actually like to see it. (My apologies to Mark Twain.)

DCFM pictures - 7 October 2006

Chicago.

Not owning a digital camera (or my own computer, for that matter) is a bit of a hindrance to posting pictures on a blog. It's not an insurmountable hurdle, though. It just takes me a while to develop, scan, retouch in Photoshop, etc. Thus, I present a small selection of photos from the Dane County Farmers' Market from October 7th, 2006. I took these pictures after I'd done my shopping for the morning, at around 9 am. Most of the pictures that came out well were in direct sunlight, without overly large crowds at the stands.


Apples from Ela Orchard


The potato selection from Butter Mountain


Butter Mountain's roast/grill/stew potato mix


Shallots from Blue Skies Farm


Late-season hoophouse tomatoes from Blue Skies Farm


Brussels sprouts from JenEhr Family Farm


One of many fall pumpkin vendors at the DCFM


All-blue potatoes from Driftless Organics


Driftless Organics' sweet mini bell peppers


Maitake (hen-of-the-woods) mushrooms from Blue Valley Gardens


Butler Farms' aged sheep's milk cheeses

Ricotta and spätzle recipes.

Madison.

Ask for recipes, and I'll post them.¹ Melissa asked, so here are a few that I developed for last night's dinner.

Spiced ricotta
Makes about a pint. Adapted from a recipe by Deborah Madison.

You can also make this recipe with skim milk, but whole milk definitely tastes better. Infusing the milk with spices gives the ricotta a subtle flavor, as the whey carries away a lot of it. If you'd like something more intense, flavor after the fact, to taste. You can also save the whey for use in baking.

Ingredients

• ½ gallon whole milk
  
• 2 3-inch cinnamon sticks
  
• 6 whole cloves
  
• 10 whole black peppercorns
  
• 3-4 Tbsp. vinegar
  
• ½ tsp. salt

Directions

1. Add the milk and spices to a large saucepan. Heat slowly to 160°F, then cover and remove from the heat. Allow to steep for 30 minutes, then remove the spices.
   
   
2. Add 3 tablespoons of vinegar to the milk. Slowly heat until 180°F, then reduce heat to lowest level possible and allow to rest for 30 minutes. If possible, keep temperature at about 180°F.
   
   
3. At this point, the milk solids should have separated from the whey, which should be a pale green color. If this is not the case, add another tablespoon of vinegar and gently stir.
   
   
4. Carefully ladle the curds into a colander lined with several layers of cheesecloth. Once the majority of the whey has drained away, mix in the salt. The ricotta is now ready to be used; you can also hang the cheesecloth bundle until all of the liquid has drained away for a firmer cheese.
   
   
5. For individual servings, line a mini-muffin pan with plastic wrap and spoon in the still-warm and -soft ricotta. Refrigerate to allow them to firm into shape.

Winter squash spätzle
Makes five or six servings. Adapted from The Joy of Cooking.

These little dumplings will have a subtle squash/pumpkin flavor; it depends in part on what sort of winter squash you have available. To best show off the flavor, simply toss the finished spätzle in a skillet with some metled butter until just lightly browned.

Note: After roasting the squash, pass the flesh through a potato ricer to smooth out the texture. Then you can intensify the flavor by tossing in a dry pan over medium heat, stirring constantly to evaporate moisture without burning.

Ingredients

• ¾ c. roasted squash puree (see note above)
  
• 1¼ c. all-purpose flour
  
• ½ tsp. baking powder
  
• 1 tsp. salt
  
• Pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
  
• 2 large eggs
  
• ½ c. milk

Directions

1. Mix together the flour, baking powder, salt and nutmeg until well combined. Stir in the squash puree to make a uniform paste.
   
   
2. In a separate container, beat the eggs with the milk until smooth. Add this to the dry ingredients and beat with a spoon to create a smooth, elastic batter.
   
   
3. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Using a spätzle maker, colander or potato ricer, drop the batter into the water in small bits. The spätzle will float the surface and swell slightly; at this point, they are done. Remove with a slotted spoon.

* * * * *

¹Those that I actually have recipes for, that is. Most of the time, I'm just winging it, and as a result have no idea how to convey ingredients quantities to someone else.

Saturday dinner: the new beer makes a showing.

Madison.

I've decided to throw a small, celebratory dinner for the latest batch of homebrew. It's fully drinkable - even if the hops are a bit stronger than I'd intended - and two cases is more than I should be consuming all by myself. As Sharon'll be gone for the weekend, it's also a chance to cook up a meal featuring some of the fine beef and pork that's been filling up the freezer. Not that I can't normally enjoy that sort of thing, but big pieces like the beef cheek - not to mention the ten-pound pork belly - work best with a few carnivorous friends.

After tossing around a few ideas, I've settled on a menu for five for Saturday. Some of this is simply to clear out the freezer; some is to test out some new ideas I've had. Plus, meals with separate courses are something I do so rarely at home. They're more of a "nice dinner out" sort of thing, but there's no reason it can't be done.

The preliminary menu (as it's written on the kitchen chalkboard):

amuse-bouche
Spiced fresh ricotta with hickory nuts and cranberry-blood orange sauce

salad
Mixed greens salad with mustard vinaigrette, poached egg and crouton

main course
Braised beef cheek with winter squash spätzle, parsley pesto and brussels sprouts with bacon

dessert
Apple pie with cheddar cheese

Amuses-bouche aren't a necessary part of a dinner party, but they can really set the tone. Okay, yes, we'll be drinking beer with Futurama labels, and I'll probably be wearing jeans with holes in them,¹ but this is meant to be a little fancier than burgers and brats on the grill. It also says helps explain that dinner may take a little longer than the usual family-style arrangement, without having to say so directly.

Which is a good thing, since our entertainment options for the evening consist primarily of conversation and Scrabble. Maybe cards.

I haven't made ricotta in a little while, so I've had a hankering for it. Especially now that I've discovered the glories of local, non-homogenized milk from Blue Marble Family Farm.² I plan on infusing it with some cloves and cinnamon, curdling out the solids with vinegar, draining off the liquid and shaping it into molds. It's amazingly simple, and my method always seems to give me a very firm curd, which I'm hoping'll hold its shape. Then I should be able to plate it with some hickory nuts - toasted to bring out the flavor - and a sauce made from fresh cranberries, apple cider and blood oranges to contrast the ricotta's richness. At least it'll look sharp on a white plate.

Sharon and I have been enjoying a lot of poached eggs of late, mostly as a followup to the L'Etoile vegetarian dinner. I prefer a fried egg, sunny side up, cooked just about as lightly as a poached egg, but that only works on toast. Soups and salads need the all-around delicacy of poaching to really shine. Fortunately, the fresh, flavorful eggs we've been getting from Blue Valley Gardens hold together really well.³ Until you break open that yolk, that is: instant salad dressing.

The beef cheek and spätzle is just another variation on a regular meal for Sharon and I, where we cook up some noodles and vegetable-filled broth separately, then ladle together into bowls for a warming dinner. (This sometimes gets an egg, too.) I've had a beef cheek in the freezer for quite some time, since my tolerance for braising - and the accompanying warm kitchen - is pretty low in the summertime. John and Dorothy had convinced me to try it, as it's one of their favorite cuts. Though it'll take hours of moist cooking to break down the connective tissue, the constant use this muscle's been through makes it one of the most flavorful parts of the cow. A braise ought to result in fork-tender meat and a rich liquid to spoon over noodles. With a little luck, I'll be able to use some roasted squash as a noodle base, for color and flavor, and a parsley pesto should give some brightness and contrast to the other rich items.

For the brussels sprouts, I'm going to use Tory Miller's recipe, as noted in this Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel article. (Scroll to the bottom.) I love brussels sprouts, and I figure bacon can only enhance them.

Now that we're fully into apple season, I'm ready for pie. I'd considered a tarte tatin, but I'd rather go with something I've done before. More or less, at least - I'm planning to give a lard crust a try this time. Vegetable shortening's not doing me any favors, health-wise, and I've only heard good things about lard. So why not give it a shot?

* * * * *

¹Not fashionably so. (Is that still fashionable? I don't really pay any attention.) They're simply jeans that I've been wearing for so long that they're wearing out. Which means they're pretty much at their peak comfort level.

²And I don't even drink milk. I'm trying to learn to like it, but it's just not happening.

³Best poached egg ever was one of Matt Smith's turkey eggs, though I haven't seen one of those for quite some time. They have a richness you just can't get with chicken eggs alone. An even better use for them, if you can find any, is to use them for scrambled eggs; their innate creaminess really shines.

When you don't play, you can't lose.

Madison.

It's the fifteenth of the month, and that's excuse enough to visit Star Liquor on Willy Street. The fifteenth means fifteen percent off wine, and the wine cellar¹ was looking a little empty. That, of course, is a not an enviable position to be in.

We picked up a half-dozen bottles: some of the great sauvignon blanc from the Underground Food Collective dinner; a German spätlese riesling; a tempranillo we'd picked up the other night on a whim and enjoyed; and some others. I also couldn't resist a four-pack of Dogfish Head's Punkin Ale. It's been at least two or three years since I last had it, but even Sharon remembers that I enjoyed it thoroughly.

Odd coincidence: with the wine discount, tax, etc., it all added up to exactly $100.00. It was really very strange.

The other amusing thing at Star was that they were celebrating the Packers. The Packers who aren't playing today, and thus can't actually lose this week's game. They'd even picked a tailgating theme for the monthly wine tasting, with chili, nachos and brats - all with matched wines, of course. Recommended wine pairing with good ol' Wisconsin bratwurst? Grüner veltliner.

* * * * *

¹That would be the storage room in the basement of the apartment building. It also functions as the homebrew fermentation/conditioning space, the meat dry-curing room, and the bicycle locker, among other things.

LöBrau: It's like beer, only I made it.

Madison.

After nearly a month of conditioning¹ in the cellar, the latest batch of homebrew is just about ready for consumption. I'll give the first bottle a taste this weekend, to see how well it's coming along, though I suspect it'll have a noticeable improvement by next weekend, and won't hit its peak for a few weeks after that. By Thanksgiving, it ought to be as balanced as it's going to get.

For now, though, I'll take the opportunity to affix some labels to this batch. I've been toying with the notion of using a variety of labels on a single batch, a sort of "Collect Them All!" group like you see on kids' cereal boxes. The first idea was to do this with embarrassing pictures of friends and invite them all over for a summer barbecue. Good layout ideas never materialized, and I was too busy to get a batch done in time, so that batch'll be on hiatus. Besides, a barbecue calls for something not too sweet, with a good hop backbone², and the previous two batches had been just that: Brickies Best Bitter and the ITMFA IPA.

This beer is a brown ale, spiked with a little cinnamon. My hope is that it'll lend a slight spiciness that can't quite be identified, but we'll see. Otherwise, it's a mix of amber and pale malt extracts, some crystal and chocolate malts, and Centennial and Cascade hopes for bitterness and aroma, respectively. As for the yeast, here's what Wyeast has to say about it:

Wyeast Labs 1338 European Ale Yeast. From Wissenschaftliche in Munich. Full-bodied complex strain finishing very malty with full bodied profile, very desirable in English Style Brown Ales and Porters. Produces a dense, rocky head during fermentation. Flocculation - high; apparent attenuation 67-71%. (62-72° F, 16-22° C)

The brewers' jargon in there means:

• Flocculation - Refers to the clumping behavior of the yeast. More flocculant yeasts will tend to stick together once they've finished their eat/reproduce/etc. cycle, and settle to the bottom of the fermenting vessel. This results in a brighter - meaning clearer, with less haze - beer, which is desirable in some styles. This beer ought to be dark enough that brightness isn't a real concern, like it would be in a pale ale, say.
  
  
• Attenuation - Refers to how much of the available sugar the yeast will devour before going dormant. I've always used 75% as my initial estimate, which produces a reasonably dry ale. Lower ranges make for sweeter, less alcoholic beers, and these often have more body because of the dissolved sugars.³
  
  
• Produces a dense, rocky head during fermentation - Ale yeasts tend to congregate at the top of the fermenting vessel, which you can see if you're fermenting in glass, or pop the top off the container to have a look inside. I try to avoid both of those options. A primary fermentation in glass runs the risk of breaking the glass if the pressure builds too high; exposing the wort to air increases the risk of infection, which could cause anything from bizarre off-flavors to exploding bottles. Though the yeast stops short of fermenting all of the available sugars, wild bacteria have no such qualms. That said, I did get a look at the head on this beer when I transferred from the first fermenting vessel to a secondary glass fermenter, and it was pretty neat.

That's what went into the beer, so I've a rough idea of what it'll be like. Still, the first taste is a lot like biting into an unfamiliar apple. You know there'll be a definite apple-ness to it, but the sweetness, acidity, crispness, etc., are all up in the air.

I'd thought about labels for this beer, and there weren't any particular visual elements that jumped out at me. Well, I couldn't stop thinking about the New Glarus 'Fat Squirrel' nut brown ale, which meant that I had to avoid any and all animal-themed labels. There weren't even any bad puns coming to mind, so I went with a backup I'd been tossing around for a while: LöBrau.

On "Futurama", the creative staff made a serious effort to populate their imaginary world with all sorts of made-up products, most of which sound both hilarious and repulsive. Slurm, the ubiquitous soft drink. Bachelor Chow, which is basically dog food marketed to single men. That sort of thing. Of all of the products shown, I'm only aware of one that was mistakenly included in both the year 2000 and the year 3000: LöBrau beer. Fry is shown drinking it when he falls into the cryogenic freezer, but then is shown drinking it on a regular basis, a thousand years later.

Talk about a brand with some serious staying power.

So, in that spirit, I've drawn up four different labels for this new beer, all based on Futurama. Each features a major character, with a little tagline from the show that applies - at least sort of - to the beer, even if it was in another context.


Philip J. Fry's the hero of the show, a lazy, shiftless delivery boy who is accidentally frozen in the year 2000 and wakes up a thousand years later. In one episode, when the crew is trying to decide what kind of beer to buy, Fry holds up a six-pack of LöBrau, and says, "How about LöBrau? It has dots on it." Like when Moe Szyslak, the "Simpsons" bartender, convinces Homer to pay extra for imported beer by using a marker to turn 'Duff' into 'Düff'.


Professor Hubert J. Farnsworth, Fry's great-great-whatever-nephew, is a doddering old man who's half mad scientist. He just runs an interstellar package delivery service to pay the bills. "Not a Substitute for Human Interaction" is one of the opening credit subtitles, a joke that changes with every show. Other favorites of mine include: "Painstakingly Drawn Before A Live Audience"; "80% Entertainment by Volume"; and "When You See the Robot, Drink!", which was another potential label option.


Bender Bending Rodriguez is Fry's best friend and roommate, an alcoholic, cigar-smoking, foul-mouthed robot whose primary goal is to do everything illegal he possibly can. In the future, robots need alcohol as a power source, so Bender acts like a drunk whenever he hasn't had enough to drink. "Now With Flavor!" is a slogan for Bachelor Chow, which looks to be more or less like dog food, only marketed to single losers, like Fry. The other Bachelor Chow slogan, not surprisingly, is "Makes Its Own Gravy!"


Dr. John Zoidberg is the doctor for Planet Express, despite the fact that he's completely unfamiliar with human anatomy. Unless it's something he's seen on a decongestant commercial. "It's Highly Addictive!" is the slogan of Slurm, the utterly disgusting and exceedingly popular soft drink in the year 3000. It's so addictive that Fry, upon learning its secret (and only) ingredient, doesn't stop drinking it.

* * * * *

¹I.e., sitting in the bottles, ideally not exploding from the carbonation process. The yeast converts any remaining sugars - including a little dextrose added to ensure carbonation - into alcohol and carbon dioxide. While waiting for this to happen, plus another two or three weeks, the 'green' flavors of the beer dissipate.

²Or something crisp, in the lager/pilsner vein, but I don't have the facilities for beers made with lager yeasts. Perhaps I'll invest in a spare refrigerator someday, but until then, it's ales all the way. I prefer the fruity aromas af ale yeasts, anyhow.

³Unfermentable sugars, such as lactose and those found in crystal malts, are a great way to give body to beer without an overwhelming sweetness, since they provide a less sweet sensation than, say, sucrose.

NaNoWriMo 2006 signups begin.

Madison.

It's October. Though that certainly means a number of things: market produce undergoes a significant shift after the first frosts; blankets move from the closet to the foot of the bed; leaves begin to change colors, reds and golds that look brilliant in the evening sun. It also signals the impending arrival of National Novel Writing Month¹, the month-long writing fest that takes place every November.

For those who are unfamiliar with it, a few basics:

• NaNoWriMo takes place every November. This is its eighth year, and an estimated 75,000 people are expecteed to take part. This is in contrast to the mere 21 participants in 1999's inaugural event.
  
  
• The goal is to write a novel - defined as a fictional work of 50,000 words or more - during the 30 days of November. All of the actual writing has to take place in November, but associated activities, such as research, writing outlines, etc., are allowed at any point. Since just about everyone² writes their novel on a computer, the NaNoWriMo website takes care of the official wordcount verification.
  
  
• There is no prize for winning. Sure, you get a downloadable winner's certificate, an icon you can put on your website, and a purple wordcount status bar on the NaNoWriMo site, but the primary reason to attempt it is to succeed at a personal goal. Lying about it and fooling a word-counting robot aren't difficult to do, but that's like cheating at solitaire.
  
  
• This is a definite quantity-over-quality experience. In my experience, wooden characters, hackneyed story elements, horrendous spelling and grammatical errors, and abandoned plot threads are par for the course. Avoiding one's inner editor and writing for writing's sake is a critical key to success. Though I'm usually happy to lend out my manuscript after the event, I'm always sure to point out that it's awful. It's truly, truly awful, and that's an unavoidable side effect of the compressed time frame.
  
  That said, I can happily say that, of the past three times I've attempted this, I've succeeded twice. They may be pure schlock and rather incomplete, but I've written two novels.
  
  
• So many people attempt this that local groups have sprung up all over the world³, facilitated by the NaNoWriMo website forums. In addition to online and local support from fellow participants, there are forums devoted to tapping the vast collective brain of the WriMo community, like the 'Character and Plot Realism Q&A', which is where you can be sure that someone knows the answer to your obscure question⁴. Or can at least make up an answer convincing enough to keep you from having to do any actual research.
  
  
• It's both maddeningly difficult and giddily fun, sort of like a runner's high. For those willing to give it a shot, I wholeheartedly recommend No Plot? No Problem! by Chris Baty, the man whose marginally crackpot idea this was in the first place.

As for what I'll be writing this year, I haven't a clue. Every year, I end up batting around a series of half-formed ideas that get brushed aside once November arrives. Previous years' efforts have included: robots; car crashes; magical storytelling; road trips; hired assassins; and nattily-dressed terrorists. Among other things.

This year could have anything: zombies and post-apocalyptic wastelands; western-style gunfights and train robberies; space alien invasions; or awkward family holidays. Perhaps all of them. I have no idea what direction the novel will end up taking. I only know that it'll be hastily written, unashamedly formulaic, and both hilarious and cringe-worthy by the end.

I'm okay with that. For those who are also okay with that, I can only ask that you give it a shot.

* * * * *

¹NaNoWriMo, for short; NaNo, for shorter. Those participating are called WriMos. Yes, I'm aware that it doesn't make perfect sense, but it works well enough.

²I'm one of the few not writing on a computer. I use my Olivetti traveling typewriter, which, despite its various problems, is my preferred fiction-writing tool.

³Yes, everyone at NaNoWriMo knows about the "National" thing and the vast array of international participants. It just rolls off the tongue so much better that way, in both its full and truncated forms.

⁴Such as: Could a chimpanzee drive a go-kart? What about an orangutan? Let's say it were running on biodiesel; would the smell of french fries be a serious impairment to the chimpanzee/orangutan's driving abilities?

L'Etoile's vegetarian feast.

Madison.

Despite his deep love for bacon, Tory Miller excels at vegetarian cooking. Of course, it appears that he's now discovered a fine vegetarian alternative to that bit of cured, smoked pork belly: smoked maitake (hen-of-the-woods) mushrooms. They're lovely. You see, last night was a special dinner at L'Etoile, pairing vegetarian cuisine with some great wines from California's Central Coast. Before, these sorts of dinners had been a way to highlight specific producers, which generally means it'll focus on meat, like Fountain Prairie's beef or Willow Creek's pork.

This is a problem for vegetarians. On any given night, the restaurant will certainly have a vegetarian entree, often more complex than the meat-based dishes that share the menu. When the kitchen is racing to feed sixty people in one sitting, however, deviating from the menu becomes impossible.¹ There's no shortage of vegetarians who support local agriculture and like a good meal, though, so this was an event long in coming.

Our host for the evening was Michael Kwas, L'Etoile's wine director, a man well-versed in his trade. He'd done his research, and provided not only a fine selection of wines to match each course, but was able to offer a wealth of background information on the wines and the region. Soil: shallow with lots of limestone. Climate: hot during the day, but cooling off quickly in the evening due to the ocean air flowing from the Pacific. Traditional wine-producing region it's most like: the Rhone valley. Hence the group of winemakers referring to themselves as 'The Rhone Rangers'.

The meal itself lasted three hours or so, which was a good thing, given all the food and wine we were polishing off.² The menu we were given looked like:

Tonight's Opening Wine:
Laetitia XD Sparkling Wine, Méthode Champenoise, Arroyo Grande Valley
served with
Amuse Bouche

Second Wine:
2005 Jaffurs Viognier, Santa Barbara County
served with
Wilted Shooting Star Farm Frisée Salad of Applewood-Smoked Wild Mushrooms, Sylvetta, Croutons, Poached Egg, and a Dijon Mustard & Red Wine Vinaigrette

Third Wine:
2003 Renard Rousanne, Santa Ynez Valley
served with
Roasted Garden To Be Kuri Squash Ravioli Sautéed in Brown Butter and finished with Toasted Pine Nuts and Hidden Springs Fresh Sheep's Milk Cheese

Fourth Wine:
2004 Talley Vineyards Pinot Noir, Arroyo Grande Valley
served with
Roasted Blue Moon Farm Baby Beets with Fantôme Farm Chèvre Flan and Balsamic Reduction

Fifth Wine:
2003 Tablas Creek Vineyard, Esprit de Beaucastel, Paso Robles
served with
JenEhr Napa Cabbage filled with Braised Lentils, accompanied by Autumn Vegetable Ragoût, Celery Root Puree, Crispy Shallot Rings and finished with Zinfandel Jus

Dessert Course:
Future Fruit Moonglow Pear Tart Tatin with Cinnamon Ice Cream

A few small items weren't included on the menu:

• The hickory nut crackers with goat cheese that precede every meal at L'Etoile were there, of course, a tradition from when Odessa Piper ran the kitchen. Hickory nuts were one of her very favorite things, and Tory hasn't changed a thing since he took over.³
  
  
• The amuse-bouche was a wonderful little cupful of mushroom consomme with sage gnocchi. Intense, enough that a bowl of it would have been a bit much, but perfect as just a few spoonfuls.
  
  
• Post-dessert, little plates arrived with mignardises: a miniature chocolate truffle; a shortbread thumbprint cookie with raspberry jam; and a sweet version of the hickory nut cracker. Three very tiny (but flavorful) bites.

There was a lot to enjoy about this meal. In fact, I'm hard-pressed to think of anything I would change, so I'll just mention a few of favorite bits:

• The viognier - second wine - was intensely aromatic. Perfume-shop, bowl-you-over intense, full of fascinating fruit aromas. The one I can still recall is pineapple-like smell, but soft around the edges and bleeding into other tropical fruits. You didn't even need to drink it to appreciate it.
  
  
• To go with the viognier was the best dish of the night, the salad with smoked mushrooms and poached egg. We joked about Tory slipping some bacon in when no one was looking; it was a very similar flavor. It lacked a little of the sweetness (and the distinct, cured pork-ness) of real bacon, but the effect was phenomenal. Add in the richness of the poached egg and a light hand on the vinaigrette, and this was, hands-down, the star of the evening. Given how impressive the rest of the dinner was, that really means something.
  
  As Sharon put it: "I think I want a poached egg on everything from now on."
  
  Incidentally, Tory's getting a lot of play out of those smoked maitakes these days. Lifted from the restaurant's regular menu for this week:
  

  Smoked Hen-of-the-Woods Mushroom and Roasted Fairy Pumpkin Risotto blended with Hidden Springs Fresh Sheep Milk and served with Braised Driftless Organics Kale, an Autumn Vegetable Ragoût and Ela Orchard Cider Reduction

• The beet and chèvre salad was delightful, a more sophisticated version of one of my favorite lunch salads. I usually just make a pile of beet slices, add some chèvre or brebis, olive oil, salt and pepper, and consider it a meal. The flan, though, was so light and airy, a soft, melting texture with a flavor that was a softened take on the usual punch of goat cheese.
  
  
• The pinot noir was also a delicious wine. It's a tough wine to pick out at the liquor store, since the quality can be all over the map. Here, though, was an obvious winner, intense and sensuous and everything you'd want from this grape.
  
  
• Just a little note, but I'm sure it was intentional: if you pay attention as you read the menu, you'll note that each course reads as [wine] served with [food]. It underscores the idea that wine is meant to be consumed with food, that it's at its most enjoyable that way. A small detail, but I like it.

* * * * *

¹And the list of vegetarians willing to throw their support behind, say, beef farmers is a short one.

²I hadn't realized this, but when you're at L'Etoile for a meal that includes a flight of wines in the price, an empty glass means they'll just fill it up again if you're not looking. This is the point during the meal when I'm very glad the car's sitting at home.

³Know what else Odessa loves? The BLT. 'Cause it's the greatest sandwich ever.

Fountain Prairie Dinner - Summary.

Madison.

On September 23rd, I cooked an eleven-course meal at Fountain Prairie Farm for a group of fourteen. It was a lot of things all at once: an excuse to push my cooking skills further than I ever had before; a chance to gather a group of friends together for a special meal; an opportunity to showcase some of the finest in local Wisconsin foods.



Since the details of the event would be an overwhelming single post, I've broken it into several different ones, arranged roughly by topic. I'll edit the links below to include any additional posts that I may decide to add at a later date.

* * * * *

Related Posts:
Planning and Event.
The Menu.
As Local As Possible.

Fountain Prairie Dinner - Planning and Event.

Madison.

This wasn't simply a dinner. From my perspective, it was an event that spread itself over months. (Sure, for everyone else, it was just a six-hour dinner.)


The Fountain Prairie Inn.

I started the planning for the dinner all the way back in June, when the Priskes mentioned the possibility of renting out the entire house. We'd recently been there for the Underground Food Collective dinner, and it seemed like a good idea. Since we wanted to reserve the whole house for a night, and dozens of individual summer schedules were impossible to work around, we settled on late September.

The planning began as a simple chalkboard list, a series of rough courses like "soup" and "dessert" that more or less covered the breadth of what I felt confident preparing. Though it evolved through the various iterations of the menu, the types of courses stayed fairly constant from start to finish. Taking some guesses at what might be in season come September, I put together a preliminary menu. Throughout the summer, Sharon helped as my taster as I tested most of the courses. (A few bits slipped through the cracks, so I had to rely on intuition.)

I designed the menu to minimize the amount of work I'd have to do on the day of the dinner. Since I fully intended to do all of the cooking myself - and got 99% of the way there¹ - I didn't want to be overwhelmed when it came to dinnertime. Even the day before was busier than the day of. Several courses were served cold or at room temperature, and very little had to prepared from scratch that day. If I do this sort of thing again², I'd come at it from the very same angle. Pickles and terrines are not only delicious and impressive, but must be made ahead of time.


Scottish Highland cattle on pasture.

I took the day off of work on the Friday before, and spent all day in the kitchen. Except for when I went out to get some takeout for dinner, since I was so busy cooking for Saturday that we had nothing to eat.³ After a short night, I got up before sunrise to be at the Dane County Farmers' Market by 7am, then to the Westside Community Market, to pick up the last of the necessary ingredients. Sharon helped me pack several boxes full of kitchen equipment and the coolers full of ice and food, and we were off to the farm to get started.

I knew I'd done well in planning when I didn't feel rushed when we arrived at the farm. We ferried the contents of the car into the house (being careful to deposit Ace, the Priskes' friendly and excitable dog, outside) and unpacked. I made a pot of chicken noodle soup with some extra vegetables and the leftover pasta from the day before so Sharon and I could have some lunch, and got down to business. I didn't feel at all pressured until dinnertime arrived.


The restored tallgrass prairie and wetlands.

Dinner was scheduled for 6pm, and I came pretty close. John was still out on his "morning chores", so I didn't feel too bad. Everyone sat down and I passed out menus, and we started. For each course, I had two people help me serve dishes after I'd finished plating them. There were fourteen of us, altogether, and plenty of helpers. Eventually, as I started running behind on clean dishes, there were more dishwashing volunteers than the kitchen could accommodate.

Each course followed more or less the same pattern: I finished cooking (if necessary) and arranged all fourteen plates on the kitchen island; I brought two plates out to the dining room, announcing that everything was ready, and two volunteers leapt up to help serve; I poured the next course of beer or wine, if there was one; when we were all set, I explained what we were eating and drinking; and we all sat down to enjoy. There were usually a couple of questions as we got started, like "And what's this ingredient?" or "How did you make this?" When I finished up, I ducked back into the kitchen to start on the next course, while everyone else played musical chairs, poured themselves some more to drink, and kept up a good level of conversation.

By the time I started to get overwhelmed with both cooking and dishwashing, Sharon and the others were popping into the kitchen, and I'm very thankful for the help. (At least no one was there when I spilled boiling-hot tomatillo-poblano sauce all over my shirt.) All in all, it took nearly six hours to get from the appetizers to the chocolate. I'd tried hard to get the portion sizes right,⁴ and wanted everyone to be able to enjoy every course. Though appetites waned a bit by desserts and chocolate, small portions and plenty of time for digestion got us through.

It also kept people from getting absurdly drunk, which was a little surprising given the vast quantities of alcohol we all put away. (Not that anyone had to make it any further than upstairs after the meal.)

By midnight, as we all ate chocolates, I was kaput. We all sat around the table, and everyone talked about their favorite aspect of the meal.⁵ What pleased me the most was the full range of opinions. Sure, there were a few things that several folks mentioned over and over, but the breadth of compliments made me feel great. I think I managed to please everyone, and there wasn't much on the menu that didn't get approval after the fact. If everyone had picked the same course as a favorite, I might have been disappointed, but there was a wealth of varying opinions to suggest that the entire endeavor was a real success.

Sharon, Emily and I'm not sure who else managed to scrub the dishes while I slumped in a chair for hours, leaving a clean kitchen for breakfast. By 2am, with a clean kitchen, we searched for light switches as we stumbled off to bed. I sure appreciated it.


One of the youngest members of the herd.

It's amazing how, after a 21-hour day, my body still insists on being fully awake by 7am. I made my way down to the kitchen, where the early risers had gathered around the coffee machine. When we started to clog the kitchen, we moseyed on out to the living room to kill time until breakfast.

Which was excellent, by the way. Oatmeal pancakes with maple syrup and sour cream. Crispy bacon. Cranberry applesauce. A wonderfully delicate and light coffee cake. Coffee, tea, orange juice and apple cider.

Most of us had some time to spare, so John took us on a tour of the farm, past the barn, through the pasture and the restored tallgrass prairie. It was genuinely fascinating, and the weather - which had been threatening rain just the day before - couldn't have been finer. A few of the highlights included:

• Loverboy, the three-year old bull, eyeing us through the fence. He's a large, heavily muscled animal, impressive even to those of us who don't know squat about raising cattle. Beside him are the adorable little adolescent bulls, kept separated from the rest of the herd because they're about as trustworthy around girls as any adolescent boys of any species.
  
  
• Sitting in the middle of the herd, keeping still, is something most of us rarely get to do. Highland cattle are lovely animals, and the calves - like all young mammals - are adorable. Who wouldn't want to take one home? Even the full-grown cows look like giant, rust-colored English sheepdogs. With horns.
  
  
• Fountain Prairie Farm isn't just a cattle operation. A large portion of the farm is actually restored tallgrass prairie and wetlands, which provides a haven for all sorts of birds and other wildlife that had been driven away by industrial agriculture. The Priskes have brought back dozens of species of native grasses and other plants, and recreated the original wetlands that once supported the flocks of migrant waterfowl that are now returning. It's a beautiful landscape, one that had been all around here not all that long ago.
  
  
• The Priskes genuinely care about their impact on the environment around them, about the life they give the animals on their farm. If that seems pretty clear from talking to them at the farmers' market, just wait until John's telling you about his life's work in the middle of a field - and how he hopes he can ensure it will continue well beyond him.

Note: The pictures here were taken by Emily English during our farm tour. She's posted the rest of her photos on Shutterfly.

* * * * *

Related posts:
Summary.
The Menu.
As Local As Possible.

* * * * *

¹Sharon helped fill ravioli when I was running behind, and gave me a hand with some other little odds and ends in the process. Thank you!

²Only less complicated. Full-time job, plus travel to and from Chicago, then this? No thanks. I'd like to get some sleep at some point.

Fountain Prairie Dinner - The Menu.

Madison.

Eleven courses? You bet. Granted, actual professionals might not count the amuses-bouche as "courses", but I put a lot of thought and effort into this whole thing. Plus, eleven sounds all sorts of impressive. Aside from Ferrán Adrià-style¹ wackiness, where you might expect forty courses (most of which are hardly more than a spoonful² of something highly unusual), it's not something you'd really expect to see.

And when you tell everyone the eleven-course plan, sans details, I think it sets them up for the unexpected. The possibilities are so open that second-guessing the menu is all but impossible, and, I'll admit, that was fun.

Given that we had both omnivores and vegetarians (of varying stripes) coming to dinner, I had to plan on a primarily vegetarian dinner with meatless alternates that didn't feel like a copout. Below, I'll outline each course in detail³, with images of the printed menus posted at the end. (Note that I had to print menus before purchasing the last ingredients at the market that morning, so things were apt to change last-minute.)

one - appetizer
Roast beef tenderloin "BLT" or Shiitake mushroom "BLT"
The BLT is perhaps the greatest sandwich template ever, a minimalist approach to sandwich construction that - when made well - is all about balance. I love the BLT.

This was a twist on that, layering together a slice of toasted sourdough baguette, a thin layer of fresh sheep's-milk brebis cheese, a few arugula leaves, an oven-roasted, slightly caramelized tomato half, a slice of beef tenderloin that I'd seared to just rare, and a few thai basil leaves. I'd originally thought of roasting a larger portion of tenderloin - even earlier than that, I'd strongly considered smoke-roasting, but had to nix that when the weather wouldn't cooperate - but a hot pan on the stovetop was simpler to manage. To keep the rich meatiness, I gave the vegetarians some pan-seared shiitake caps instead of the beef.

Parker pear Bellini
I don't recall even seeing local peaches this year, which would have been the traditional choice for Bellinis. Even so, I'd wanted to use something more local, and settled on pureed Parker pears since the phenomenal Moonglows wouldn't be ready in time. Just a few spoonfuls of pear in each glass, topped off with some slightly sweet sparkling wine (Lunetta Prosecco), and they were ready.

two - salad
Salad of fresh and pickled fruits and vegetables
As far as I'm concerned, there's a rare meal that wouldn't benefit from including some pickles. The Koreans have it just right, serving some kimchi alongside just about everything. Salty, sour, with opportunities for sweet and spicy, they can add some zip to just about anything. They can also be made well ahead and - if canned properly - kept in the basement.

I went with two different types of pickles: a sweet, garlicky pairing of mini bell peppers and cucumber slices; and some shredded carrots with some bright red⁴ jalapeno peppers. I'd originally intended to serve these on a bed of heirloom tomato slices, but it was a little too late in the season. Instead, I picked up some Beauty Heart radishes and a variety of cherry and currant tomatoes, then topped it all with some mountain mint and fresh black pepper.

three - soup
Smoked tomato soup with cheddar crackers
For much of this meal, I tried to take something standard and revise it to include something just a little unusual. SUre, I could have tried to create something completely new, but it's such dangerous territory - especially when feeding a crowd - that I've no confidence in pulling it off. This was a variation on the classic comfort food of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, a combination that I knew worked and could stand a dash of sophistication.⁵

I cold-smoked some meaty, red tomatoes with hickory and then slow-roasted them in a moderate oven to get a smoky, intensified tomato flavor. The rest of the soup simply included sweet onions, softened in butter, carrots and water, all simmered together and passed through a food mill for a smoother texture. Some scallion greens, thinly sliced, made for a quick garnish.

The accompanying crackers, made with aged cheddar and sweet constantine, are a recipe I'd discovered last winter, in preparation for a wine and cheese party. Baked a day ahead and reheated just before serving, they were like miniature sandwiches, small enough to dip into the little bowls of soup.

Unibroue 'Maudite' red ale, Quebec, Canada
Wine is often paired with meals - especially haute cuisine - while we tend to relegate beer to more everyday fare. Beer, though, can be amazingly versatile with food, and it's something that I know better than wine. Some experimentation led me to Maudite, a beer from the Unibroue brewery in Chambly, Quebec. Known for their Belgian-style ales, they produce a variety of bottle-conditioned beers that are rather unusual. Maudite - the name and label are based on the québécois legend of La Chasse-galerie, or Flying Canoe - is a distinctive, complex beer that, to me, really worked well with the smokiness of the soup.

four - pasta
Ricotta, hickory nut and onion ravioli with roasted tomatillo and poblano chilli sauce
Handmade ravioli featured a rich egg pasta, stuffed with a combination of ricotta, ground hickory nuts, and caramelized red onions. Made ahead and carefully frozen, I knew that they could be both impressive and require a minimum of labor at dinnertime. As they were primarily a combination of rich, sweet ingredients, I sauced them with a puree of roasted tomatillos and roasted poblano peppers for some brightness and just a little chilli heat.

five - amuse-bouche
Three tea jellies: Darjeeling black with orange; Ban-cha green with honey; Cascade hop
An excuse to use hops in a non-beer way, I wanted to create some simple jellies to feature various infusions. Since I wanted to ensure that my vegetarian option was truly that, I opted for pectin-based jellies, rather than using gelatin. This meant that I needed a base level of sweetness from the sugar necessary to set the pectin, which was a limiting factor in the perceptible bitterness.

I served them on water crackers, for simplicity's sake. The Darjeeling, a black tea, took an even seat with the fresh-squeezed orange juice in a rather sweet jelly. I flavored ban-cha, a slightly smoky, roasted green tea, with honey, like I might at home. The cascade, being such an unusual flavor, I left on its own, and the sugar helped tame the sometimes overwhelming bitterness that a pure hop infusion can have.

six - seafood/terrine
Terrine of shrimp, cured trout, leeks and mushrooms with basil cream sauce or Terrine of late-summer vegetables and goat cheese with basil cream sauce
This was the second of three courses that separated the main and vegetarian menus. Again, looking for make-ahead options, I decided to prepare two separate terrines that could simply be sliced, plated and served. The seafood terrine featured a smooth puree of shrimp, cream and egg, folded with sauteed crimini mushrooms and leeks, and layered with freshly cured trout. For the trout, I used a simple cure of salt and sugar, with some black pepper, garlic and bourbon for additional flavor. I used swiss chard leaves to wrap the vegetarian terrine, which consisted of layers of fresh goat's milk chevre, brightly colored slices of heirloom tomatoes, red bell pepper and yellow wax beans.

Alongside, I served oven-roasted crimini mushrooms and a foamed sauce of basil-infused yogurt and cream. By mixing yogurt and cream in equal proportions, I was able to whip it into a soft, tangy version of whipped cream, tinged pale green from the basil.

Fred Loimer 'Lois' grüner veltliner, 2005, Austria
Chosen to match the seafood, I included a minerally grüner veltliner. Light, with a bit of a sweet edge, it was a straightforward, clean wine that I'd hoped could pair equally well with both fish and fresh vegetables.

seven - meat/main
Chicken sausage with sour cherry and sage; pork sausage with roasted pepper and basil; with polenta and fresh salsa or Succotash of polenta, fresh beans, and spicy roasted squash, with fresh salsa
The last of the split courses, this was the largest and most complicated. I saw it as the feature of the meal, both as the main course and as a chance to try to show off. Hence it came out on the only large plates used in the entire dinner.

The homemade sausages were a chicken sausage (flavored with pork fat, sour cherries, fresh sage and black pepper) and a pork sausage (flavored with roasted yellow bell pepper, fresh basil, black pepper, dried red pepper flakes and apple cider), poached and seared just prior to serving. The polenta I studded with fresh sweetcorn and cheddar cheese, and served it all with a trio of condiments: a fresh salsa of red onion, cherry and currant tomatoes, and lime juice; a coarse-grain mustard sweetened with apple cider and spiced with a little habanero pepper puree; and a garlicky aioli.

Vegetarians had my take on succotash, with the sweetcorn and cheddar polenta, roasted butternut squash smoothed out with a little cream and spiced with dried red pepper flakes, blanched dragon tongue snap beans, and a sprinkling of mixed bean sprouts, all arranged into a precarious tower. The same trio of salsa, mustard and aioli went along with.

Querceto Chianti Classico, 2004, Italy
A middle-of-the-road red wine, this had a softness and a fruitiness that I wanted to match the sausages, without the sort of tannic quality that would have been more appropriate with, say, a grilled steak. I'd also hoped, somewhat blindly, that it would fit reasonably well with the vegetarian option, which lacked the richness of the two sausages.

eight - amuse-bouche
Honey-lavender italian soda with herbed shortbread
The original idea for this had been to use strawberry and mint. The flavor worked well, but I had difficulty getting a syrup that dissolved instantly, without lumps. The syrup of lavender, honey and lemon was first intended for a dessert sorbet. Textural trouble caused me to adapt it for the sodas. A small amount of syrup mixed with club soda made for a sparkling, perfumed drink without the heads-on sweetness of most sodas.

Since a liquid-only course seemed a little thin, I wanted a small taste of something else to go with. Shortbread, in addition to being a fantastic cookie, has a distinct saltiness to counter the sugar. I included some fresh mexican marigold, an anise-scented herb, for an herbal contrast to the lavender in the soda.

nine - cheese
Selection of local, artisanal cheeses
Could this have been any easier? I picked five intensely flavored cheeses at the market on Saturday morning, and served them with crackers. The best part, of course, was tasting them as I shopped.

Taylor Fladgate LBV port, 1999, Portugal; Glenmorangie 12-year "Port Wood Finish" Highland Scotch whisky, Scotland
I couldn't decide between port and scotch for an after-dinner drink, and figured that neither one would be an all-around crowd pleaser. They were intended to go along with the cheese and dessert courses, so port seemed an appropriate choice. The Taylor Fladgate late bottle vintage I'd had before; in fact, by a gift-giving fluke, Sharon and I had been able to enjoy two successive years' bottles. The scotch was also one I'd enjoyed before, and the second aging - in a used port pipe - gives it a rich depth that genuinely suggests port. Plus, scotch is genuinely fantastic.

ten - dessert
Chocolate torte with sour cherry jam
Had I been able to get apricots this year, it might have been a Sachertorte.⁶ Instead, I baked a chocolate genoise, and layered it with a mixture of sour cherry jam and Amaretto. To top it off, I covered it with a ganache flavored with almond extract. To serve, I drizzled each wedge with some homemade creme fraiche, sweetened and flavored with vanilla and almond extracts.

Johnson Brothers coffee
Just roasted the Thursday before, I served up some French press coffee from Johnson Brothers Coffee Roasters: a Fair Trade Organic Ethiopian Yirgacheffe, Medium Roast. This, of course, is because a French press, a freshly roasted coffee, and a medium Nordic roast⁷ produces the best cup of coffee.

eleven - chocolate
Three chocolates: Ancho chili truffle; Orange and coffee cream; Thyme and juniper jelly
I like the number three; it seems like a variety without being over the top. Or requiring too much effort. Also, truffle, cream and jelly were the three major types of filled chocolates that occurred to me. Ancho chilli, with a bit of cinnamon, is a great combination with chocolate, rich and sweet and without any significant heat. Coffee and orange take well to cream, even if the fondant filling doesn't have any actual dairy in it. And a thyme and juniper simply struck me as an unusual combination worth trying. Like hops and lavender, juniper is an uncommon flavor that I'd just as soon use more regularly.

The menus





* * * * *

Related posts:
Summary.
Planning and Event.
As Local As Possible.

* * * * *

¹The chef of Spain's El Bulli and de facto father of the "molecular gastronomy" movement - the "better living through chemistry" faction of cooking.

²Or beakerful, or syringeful, or whatever. Sometimes it seems like culinary Dada.

³Irritatingly specific and nitpicky detail.

⁴The ripe version, which I don't see very often.

⁵Or pretentiousness. It can be a pretty fine line, and I'm a clumsy guy.

⁶Something like a Sachertorte, at any rate. Since the recipe's a closely guarded secret, and I've never been to the Hotel Sacher, I can only guess at what it's really like.

⁷And a coffee that's good enough to stand up to that low level roasting. By expert estimates, that's less than 2% of world coffee production, and it's an important reason to know your coffee roaster.

Fountain Prairie Dinner - As Local As Possible.

Madison.

At any given meal, I make a strong effort to emphasize local products. Fantastic farmers' markets make it easy. For a special dinner, a dinner on an actual local farms, I felt I needed to use everything that I possibly could from local sources. Within that, I do my best to know farmers and producers as best I can, so that I can be confident of the quality of the food and of the ethical responsibility of my food choices.

For the dinner at Fountain Prairie, the great majority of ingredients came from the local markets. I've noted the specifics - as best I can recall - below. (Due to the timing, I did have to pick up a few forgotten items at the Willy Street Co-op that I would have otherwise gotten at the farmers' markets.)

one - appetizer
Roast beef tenderloin "BLT" or Shiitake mushroom "BLT"

• Dry-aged filet mignon - Fountain Prairie Farm
  
• Fresh sheep's milk brebis - Butler Farms
  
• Arugula - Jones Valley Farm
  
• Red plum tomatoes - Luna Circle Farm
  
• Shiitake mushrooms - Blue Valley Gardens
  
• Sourdough baguette - Madison Sourdough
  
• Thai basil - my own garden¹

Parker pear Bellini

• Parker pears - Ela Orchard

two - salad
Salad of fresh and pickled fruits and vegetables

• Beauty Heart radishes - JenEhr Family Farm
  
• Red, orange and yellow carrots - Blue Skies Berry Farm
  
• Red jalapeno peppers and pickling cucumbers - Blue Moon Community Farm
  
• Sweet miniature bell peppers - Driftless Organics
  
• Black cherry, Sungold and small, red currant tomatoes - Luna Circle Farm
  
• Mountain mint - Brantmeier Farm

three - soup
Smoked tomato soup with cheddar crackers

• Red plum tomatoes - Dane County Farmers' Market²
  
• Carrots - Blue Skies Berry Farm
  
• Onions - Jones Valley Farm
  
• Three-year cheddar and Sweet Constantine cheeses - Hook's Cheese
  
• Scallions - Blue Moon Community Farm

four - pasta
Ricotta, hickory nut and onion ravioli with roasted tomatillo and poblano chilli sauce

• Eggs - Blue Valley Gardens
  
• Hickory nuts - Dane County Farmers' Market
  
• Onions - Blue Skies Berry Farm
  
• Tomatillos and poblano peppers - Luna Circle Farm

five - amuse-bouche
Three tea jellies: Darjeeling black with orange; Ban-cha green with honey; Cascade hop

• Honey - Bee Charmer

six - seafood/terrine
Terrine of shrimp, cured trout, leeks and mushrooms with basil cream sauce or Terrine of late-summer vegetables and goat cheese with basil cream sauce

• Rainbow trout - Artesian Trout Farm
  
• Garlic, yellow wax beans, and rainbow chard - JenEhr Family Farm
  
• Red bell pepper - Flyte Family Farm
  
• Crimini mushrooms - Dane County Farmers' Market
  
• Fresh goat's milk chevre - Fantome Farm
  
• Cream - Blue Marble Dairy
  
• Yogurt - Sugar River Dairy
  
• Garden Peach and Nyagous tomatoes, leeks, and basil - my own garden

seven - meat/main
Chicken sausage with sour cherry and sage; pork sausage with roasted pepper and basil; with polenta and fresh salsa or Succotash of polenta, fresh beans, and spicy roasted squash, with fresh salsa

• Pork shoulder - Fountain Prairie Farm
  
• Pasture-raised chicken, garlic, and basil - JenEhr Family Farm
  
• Sour cherries - Dane County Farmers' Market
  
• Yellow bell pepper - Blue Skies Berry Farm
  
• Sweetcorn - Flyte Family Farm
  
• Black cherry, Sungold and small, red currant tomatoes - Luna Circle Farm
  
• Onions - Jones Valley Farm
  
• Dragon tongue snap beans - Blue Moon Community Farm
  
• Bean sprouts - Troy Community Gardens
  
• Habanero peppers, sage, and purple basil - my own garden

eight - amuse-bouche
Honey-lavender italian soda with herbed shortbread

• Honey - Bee Charmer
  
• Lavender blossoms and mexican marigold leaves - my own garden

nine - cheese
Selection of local, artisanal cheeses

• Two-year aged raw milk goat cheese - Fantome Farm
  
• St. Pauline raw milk cow and goat cheese - Capri Farm
  
• Twelve-year cheddar - Hook's Cheese
  
• Aged Tomme raw milk cheese - Butler Farms
  
• Aged Gouda raw milk cheese - Bleu Mont Dairy
  
• Crackers - Potter's Fine Foods

ten - dessert
Chocolate torte with sour cherry jam

• Sour cherries- Dane County Farmers' Market
  
• Cream - Blue Marble Farm
  
• Eggs - New Century Farm

Johnson Brothers coffee

• Fair Trade Organic Ethiopian Yirgacheffe coffee - Johnson Brothers Coffee Roasters

eleven - chocolate
Three chocolates: Ancho chili truffle; Orange and coffee cream; Thyme and juniper jelly

• Thyme - Troy Community Gardens

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Related posts:
Summary.
Planning and Event.
The Menu.

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¹Sharon and I have a garden out at Eagle Heights, and we decided to make a last big harvest just before the dinner.

²Where I can't recall a specific vendor, I'll simply note the market it came from.