Sometimes such a small and thoughtful gesture means the world to me.
A few weeks ago, I celebrated my birthday. I hadn’t been really looking forward to it and just wanted to lay low. I didn’t feel the need to celebrate with a party, or a boozy night. I am too past that kind of thing…too old and it simply takes way too long to recover. I like clarity the next day, and energy!
My good friend Nina surprised me with a small gathering at one of my favorite restaurants the Saturday before the big day. I thought she and I were going to have dinner together but she surprised me by planning a surprise party for me…Michelle and Sophie couldn’t come and neither could my mom but Natasha was there and the three of us had a marvelous time drinking Rosé Champagne and dining very slowly over the course of several hours. French restaurant, French style.
My mother spent Sunday and most of Monday with me. Sunday night we watched the Oscars with take out Thai food and Riesling. On Monday, my birthday, we went shopping for my nephew and his birthday. We had lunch at whole foods. We ate birthday cake she had made for a surprise party she had planned for me that fell through with my niece and nephews…my lovely sister in law ruined it as she ruins nearly everything pertaining to me. The cake was from one of my all time favorite recipes. Laura Ingalls Wilder’s wedding cake. It is a dense, rich white cake flavored with rose water and almond. It is exquisite. It was a beautiful surprise. She gave me a funky business card holder and a pretty, little, stars and moon perfume bottle.
That evening I went to a fantastic women sommelier wine dinner at Rioja featuring Prosecco made by a family of women. The lady presenting was named Elvira and her wines were superb. She could barely speak English so her and I switched to French. It was easier than trying to understand two languages neither of us knew.
My father took me to dinner on Tuesday. We went to Café Brazil and had one of the best meals I have ever had in Denver. I had prawns and scallops with some wicked spicy sauce over fresh veggies and coconut scented rice. My dad had ahi tuna and shrimp with curry and rice. We drank caparhina, which is the Brazilian traditional drink. My dad can be sweet and we see eye to eye on moving to another country. After so many years of strained relations it turns out we have quite a bit in common.
This Saturday I am having yet another dinner with friends celebrating the occasion. I received thoughtful cards and tokens of affection from my friends. My roommate bought me the third season of SATC to replace my worn copy.
I received the most opulent, fussy, decadent bouquet of flowers from Yves….stargazer lilies, tulips, iris, gerbera daisies, and many other flowers. My entire house smells like a spring garden.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
The Wine of Ancient Rome
2,700 years ago, on the slopes of Mount Falerna near Campania and Latuim in Southern Italy, Aglianico grapes basked in the sun in three very special vineyards. The first vineyard was known as the Caucinian Falernian and was located on the highest slopes, the second vineyard was the Falerian found on the lowest slopes; and between the two vineyards rested the third the prized Faustian Falerian vineyard. These precious vineyards were owned by Roman aristocracy for millennia and are still under vine today. The Phoenecians cultivated the grape in Greece. During the 7th or 8th BCE the Greeks brought the grapes to Italy.
Falerian wine made from these ancient Aglianico grapes, from the Faustus vineyard were the world’s first Premier Cru, and were reserved for the extremely wealthy and important members of Roman society. It was a wine of legend and heritage, written about by famous poets, philosophers, scholars, and historians. The grapes were harvested late in the season and had tremendous levels of sugar resulting in a sweet wine with very high alcohol content. The wine was left to oxidize for up to twenty years in clay amphorae vessels. The potent sugar and alcohol content of the wine made it age worthy and suitable for travel. The Roman legions carried Falerian throughout Europe and as far north as Britian. Pliny the Elder commented, “It is the only wine that takes light when a flame is applied to it.” He also described a particular banquet honoring Julius Caesar in 60 BCE where the famed “Opimian vintage of 121 BCE” was served. That vintage was an exclusive Falerian and was one of the finest wines ever created.
Aglianico grapes are deep purple, hearty, and full of potent flavors. In Basilicata, they thrive in the volcanic soils of the extinct volcano, Mount Vulture, and on the hills near Taurasi in Campania. The commoners of Rome drank a crude red wine pressed from these grapes. The rustic, inky black wine was superior in tannins and in acidity. It had flavors of smoky ash from the volcanic soils and bright red fruit from the abundant sunshine. Legend claims this is the wine offered to Jesus before his crucifixion and the same wine that Mary Magdalene dabbed to his lips as he was dying. We will never know.
What we do know is that this lovely little grape is still growing in these same vineyards in the southern most regions of Italy. Eighty years ago two winemaking families began to produce modern wines from Aglianico grapes grown on Mount Vulture vineyards. The two most prominent regions for Aglianico in Italy are in Campania, where it is known as Taurasi DOCG, and Basilicata, where it is known as Aglianico del Vulture DOC. Until very recently, Donato D'Angelo and Paternoster were the only two producers of Aglianico del Vultures available in the U.S. Feudi is a new leader in the Aglianico game. Now, Aglianico is springing up on wine lists and in wine boutiques across Denver.
D’Angelo Aglianico del Vulture $35
D’Angelo Scaravite $16
Pasternoster Aglianico del Vulture Don Anselmo $41
Rubrato Aglianico dei Feudi di San Gregorio $22
Taurasi dei Feudi di San Gregorio $40
Feudi di San Gregorio Ros’Aura $15
Full body, tannic, acidic
Smoky, black plums, black cherries, dried cocoa, violets, and rose petals
Fantastic with rustic, wood fired pizza, or lean grilled meats
Falerian wine made from these ancient Aglianico grapes, from the Faustus vineyard were the world’s first Premier Cru, and were reserved for the extremely wealthy and important members of Roman society. It was a wine of legend and heritage, written about by famous poets, philosophers, scholars, and historians. The grapes were harvested late in the season and had tremendous levels of sugar resulting in a sweet wine with very high alcohol content. The wine was left to oxidize for up to twenty years in clay amphorae vessels. The potent sugar and alcohol content of the wine made it age worthy and suitable for travel. The Roman legions carried Falerian throughout Europe and as far north as Britian. Pliny the Elder commented, “It is the only wine that takes light when a flame is applied to it.” He also described a particular banquet honoring Julius Caesar in 60 BCE where the famed “Opimian vintage of 121 BCE” was served. That vintage was an exclusive Falerian and was one of the finest wines ever created.
Aglianico grapes are deep purple, hearty, and full of potent flavors. In Basilicata, they thrive in the volcanic soils of the extinct volcano, Mount Vulture, and on the hills near Taurasi in Campania. The commoners of Rome drank a crude red wine pressed from these grapes. The rustic, inky black wine was superior in tannins and in acidity. It had flavors of smoky ash from the volcanic soils and bright red fruit from the abundant sunshine. Legend claims this is the wine offered to Jesus before his crucifixion and the same wine that Mary Magdalene dabbed to his lips as he was dying. We will never know.
What we do know is that this lovely little grape is still growing in these same vineyards in the southern most regions of Italy. Eighty years ago two winemaking families began to produce modern wines from Aglianico grapes grown on Mount Vulture vineyards. The two most prominent regions for Aglianico in Italy are in Campania, where it is known as Taurasi DOCG, and Basilicata, where it is known as Aglianico del Vulture DOC. Until very recently, Donato D'Angelo and Paternoster were the only two producers of Aglianico del Vultures available in the U.S. Feudi is a new leader in the Aglianico game. Now, Aglianico is springing up on wine lists and in wine boutiques across Denver.
D’Angelo Aglianico del Vulture $35
D’Angelo Scaravite $16
Pasternoster Aglianico del Vulture Don Anselmo $41
Rubrato Aglianico dei Feudi di San Gregorio $22
Taurasi dei Feudi di San Gregorio $40
Feudi di San Gregorio Ros’Aura $15
Full body, tannic, acidic
Smoky, black plums, black cherries, dried cocoa, violets, and rose petals
Fantastic with rustic, wood fired pizza, or lean grilled meats
Saturday, February 14, 2009
What would it be like to move away to another city and become someone else?
What would it be like to move away to another city and become someone else?
Where would I go and what would I become? How would I look? How would I smell, and speak, and walk, and strut? What would I wear? What would I do? What would my home look like, my car, my kids? What would I take with me and what would I leave behind?
These are questions I ask myself quite often. Not because I want to run away from who I am but just because I am curious.
When I envision myself living my fantasy life it doesn’t look that different from my life now. My clothes are perfect, elegant, and classic. A look I have never been truly able to pull off without feeling like I am playing dress up. The black crepe sheath dress with pearls, black patent leather pumps, and a French twist. I wear it and I look great but I always end up looking a little bit messy rather than cool elegance. I will never be Grace Kelly. In my fantasy I am always just a little bit thinner. I have a great hourglass figure and that sheath dress looks better on a thinner girl.
My house always has giant, nearly floor to ceiling windows with an open floor plan and seems to be an apartment overlooking a magnificent skyline of some gorgeous city like Paris or New York. It’s a three story Brownstone because I always have a yard and a garden. The top floor is where my living area and my bed are and the middle floor is for entertaining and dining. I never see the first floor but it leads to my yard and my garage. My furniture is mine but I have reupholstered my love seat and refinished some of the worn and tattered pieces I own. My art and my books are everywhere but more orderly. I have a claw foot tub and the perfect bathroom near my bed and a very large walk in closet that may actually be an entire room. It’s not full of clothes but the one’s I have are beautifully displayed. Flowers are everywhere. It smells divine in my entire home. My kids have their own beds and the cat has a cool maze of walkways build just below the ceiling…the ultimate collection of pathways, platforms, and little caves to keep him entertained. The dog has the most cushy bed near mine and a large toy box full of his favorite things.
Everyone knows me in my neighborhood from the guy who sells me my coffee to the lady who picks the prettiest bouquets just for me. It is a community inside a city just the way I like it.
I spend my days reading and writing or wandering through my neighborhood with my dog and a coffee in my hand. I spend my evenings entertaining or talking to people about wine. I can see myself in a very cool little wine bar listening to music and talking to people about my latest fascination. I feel the love of a man and see myself in his arms but I can never see his face. I wonder if that part of the dream is real.
It’s funny as I write these words I have to admit that this is basically how my life is now. Except for the description of my home I am pretty much describing the way I live my life. I suppose that is a really good thing. Houses and dresses can be changed. Changing an entire life is much more difficult. I am pretty happy with mine and the things in my fantasy are not that far out of my reach.
Where would I go and what would I become? How would I look? How would I smell, and speak, and walk, and strut? What would I wear? What would I do? What would my home look like, my car, my kids? What would I take with me and what would I leave behind?
These are questions I ask myself quite often. Not because I want to run away from who I am but just because I am curious.
When I envision myself living my fantasy life it doesn’t look that different from my life now. My clothes are perfect, elegant, and classic. A look I have never been truly able to pull off without feeling like I am playing dress up. The black crepe sheath dress with pearls, black patent leather pumps, and a French twist. I wear it and I look great but I always end up looking a little bit messy rather than cool elegance. I will never be Grace Kelly. In my fantasy I am always just a little bit thinner. I have a great hourglass figure and that sheath dress looks better on a thinner girl.
My house always has giant, nearly floor to ceiling windows with an open floor plan and seems to be an apartment overlooking a magnificent skyline of some gorgeous city like Paris or New York. It’s a three story Brownstone because I always have a yard and a garden. The top floor is where my living area and my bed are and the middle floor is for entertaining and dining. I never see the first floor but it leads to my yard and my garage. My furniture is mine but I have reupholstered my love seat and refinished some of the worn and tattered pieces I own. My art and my books are everywhere but more orderly. I have a claw foot tub and the perfect bathroom near my bed and a very large walk in closet that may actually be an entire room. It’s not full of clothes but the one’s I have are beautifully displayed. Flowers are everywhere. It smells divine in my entire home. My kids have their own beds and the cat has a cool maze of walkways build just below the ceiling…the ultimate collection of pathways, platforms, and little caves to keep him entertained. The dog has the most cushy bed near mine and a large toy box full of his favorite things.
Everyone knows me in my neighborhood from the guy who sells me my coffee to the lady who picks the prettiest bouquets just for me. It is a community inside a city just the way I like it.
I spend my days reading and writing or wandering through my neighborhood with my dog and a coffee in my hand. I spend my evenings entertaining or talking to people about wine. I can see myself in a very cool little wine bar listening to music and talking to people about my latest fascination. I feel the love of a man and see myself in his arms but I can never see his face. I wonder if that part of the dream is real.
It’s funny as I write these words I have to admit that this is basically how my life is now. Except for the description of my home I am pretty much describing the way I live my life. I suppose that is a really good thing. Houses and dresses can be changed. Changing an entire life is much more difficult. I am pretty happy with mine and the things in my fantasy are not that far out of my reach.
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