Purchase bottle. Open (in whatever way is appropriate). Pour into glass. Observe, sniff and swirl. Jot a few notes! Bring a friend!
Oh, don't forget to keep trying new ones.
I have some cool stuff to share with you:
I'd first like to introduce you to Allison Vidug. She's a fellow graduate of NC, and without the experiences we shared together then, my wine life would certainly have been a lot slower to develop! The NYE dinner she's posted about looks totally exquisite. Check out her stuff!
Also, while browsing around today I found an interesting article about incorporating sustainability into the first-world lifestyle. I thought it was a good read for a lot of reasons: I still live like I'm kinda broke, so the world of re-use can sometimes reveal little treasures (like, making soup stock out of scraps, shells, bones, etc is the most fulfilling second-use of food that I can imagine, as well as being a wonderful way to fragrance the apartment). I've watched my parents slowly build a vegetable patch in the backyard (my dad very happily takes an old fruit basket out to pluck out herbs and little golden and red tomatoes from the vine). To me, once the pleasure of caring for your food becomes apparent, all that "hard work" doesn't seem to be that difficult. After a while, cooking for a couple hours instead of a scant 30 minutes, taking the time to can or prepare for freezing the bounty of harvest, or even making soup from scratch when you're not feeling well can feel perfectly in place with your daily activities.
More on this last point: I ducked and I dodged, but finally I was conquered by a brutal cold that had been going around work (only a couple days before New Year's Eve, too)! I took a few days of sleep and tea (I avoid over-the-counter drugs unless I absolutely need them--it's one part stubbornness, one part doubt that they work at all, and one part the bloody cost of the things). As I was puttering around at home, not doing much of anything, I decided that I wanted to make jambalaya. I had the appropriate veggies, spices, rice and some shrimp, so I set to work combining things for the dish, throwing peels and scraps of onions, celery, carrots and peppers in my stock pot. I wanted to roast some tomatoes for the jambalaya to really bring out their flavour, so I had taken some of those to add as well... Before long I had three different things going, including stock using the shells from the shrimp in a little saucepan which turned out to be very tasty!
From the first minute that I'd set to dicing onions and peeling carrots, I was feeling like myself again. Hanging out in front of my stove, cooking aromas floating up to my face, it was both a comforting and satisfying activity to do. My apartment smelled quite "home-y" which further added to the impression of comfort--as if the very aroma were another blanket around my shoulders and warm mug of tea with honey, cupped in hands.
I think it'd be interesting to suggest using the sheer act of cooking as therapy. This does not necessarily mean "using food as a remedy for depression," obviously any therapy has to be suited to the individual. All I know is that when I'm not feeling altogether like myself, I consciously make the effort to get into the kitchen and just cook it out of my system. It'd be nice if this worked for someone else too.
Here's what I did for the jambalaya:
Cook 1 cup (dry) of white or basmati rice in 2 cups of water--I know I'm a rogue with my measurements, but I've messed up enough rice for this to have become a necessity over the years.
Peel a half a medium white or gold onion and dice it; two medium carrots, peel and slice into coins; clean three pieces of celery, trimming ends, and slice. Saute in a good amount of butter (like, a couple tablespoons) over medium heat in a deep skillet. Mince two medium cloves of garlic and add to the pan. This will smell really, really good!
Clean and dice a half of each a yellow pepper and red pepper, add to pan once the previous veggies have softened and onions are translucent.
Add peeled cleaned shrimp (about 15-20) and cook until they are pink. Dice roasted plum tomatoes and add to pan. Add a healthy amount of each: coarsely ground black pepper, coarse sea salt, hot hungarian paprika, cayenne pepper, ground coriander, ground cumin and a pinch of each ground white pepper, and cinnamon (for everything except the last two, I'd estimate about a quarter teaspoon--but this is to taste). Add a splash of rose or white wine and let the alcohol steam off. Stir in the rice and let it absorb any liquid that may be left.
Enjoy! It may not be totally traditional, but most one-pot meals are pretty forgiving of alterations. When I'm sick, I take advantage of my stunted palate and eat some of the spicy things that I'd love to love, but can't usually handle.
Thanks for reading! Cheers.
Melissa
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