My sister and I were invited by a friend of hers to a food and wine tasting at a restaurant one town over from us. While I don't drink, I do consider myself a bit of a foodie, so I was excited for this endeavor. What made the trip even more appealing is the location of this tasting. The hosting restaurant is located in a run-down strip mall sandwiched between a dry cleaner and a hair-cuttery called Bangz (with a "z"). It only hosts 32 people at a time, and there is no set menu -- you are served whatever the chef has on hand and decides to throw together at the time. It's next to impossible to get into (call at least 2 weeks in advance for a reso), and I half expected there to be a speak-easy like quality to it's decor. Imagine my surprise when I saw it's pink sponge-painted walls and hokey fake Italian windows with window boxes dripping with silk flowers and cobwebs. The decor left much to be desire, but the food did not.
I should also take the time to mention here that K and I were guests of a friend of hers from down the street. This friend, R, is the treasurer of her sorority's alumni association for this side of the CLE. My sister attended this event last year, and loved it so much she wanted to return. While I knew this was a sorority event, I thought that perhaps as alumni, some of the sorority-ness would have worn off. I was wrong.
My first clue should have been the bubbly woman who greeted us. Adorning her blazer was a bedazzled pin boasting her sorority's letters -- Delta Delta Delta (or as they like to call themselves The Tri-Delts) (and is it just me, or can anyone else not picture the legendary SNL skit when they hear this?). There were women ranging in age from early 30s to old-as-dirt. Hunched elderly women with coiffed hair shuffled in and took their seats.
I was seated at a table with my sister, her friend, two other "younger" women, two women in their 50s and an elderly woman who couldn't hear. The 50ish woman and her friend were seated closest to me and frankly, they were bullies. My sister and her friend both knew that I wouldn't be consuming the wine, rather just enjoying the food, but these women next to me couldn't seem to wrap their minds around this (you see, to me, this was a food tasting, where wine was served. To them, this was a wine tasting, with food served.). R, my sister's friend, had called the place ahead of time to ask if they would prepare a "fun" alcohol-free drink for me (which was kind, but unnecessary), so instead of taking my wine glass away, we chose to keep it on the table.
From the start, I was at a serious disadvantage. First, I don't drink, so I was clearly the outcast. But, in the spirit of trying new things, and trying not to be the total boob at the table, I decided that for every pairing, I would try a sip of my sister's wine. This was mostly prompted by the sheet of paper each of us was given that told us which wine was being served with which course, and what one should be tasting while consuming said wine. I wanted to know what I was missing, and to see if I could play my hand at this flavor scavenger hunt.
[Every now and then I'll take a taste of something alcoholic just to see what I'm missing. Usually I am totally underwhelmed and want to run to the nearest toilet. It all tastes to vile to me -- except when it is alcohol disguised as something else. In my past life, when I did drink (twice), it was always drinks that didn't actually taste like alcohol -- rum and coke, mike's hard lemonade, and the like. Christmas Ale is so popular around these parts, it's practically a religion. I took a sip of some recently and didn't catch any of the notes that I was supposed to. I was more or less overcome with the hops and malt that bile was starting to rise in my throat. I am nearly always reminded during these sipping escapades that alcohol tastes like urine to me -- not that I've ever tasted urine, but I imagine it akin so this, or maybe even better.]
I will also note, at this point, that the two women next to me bullied me into keeping my wine glass at the table, even though I told them I wasn't drinking the wine, so that they could have my pour once they were finished with theirs. Hello, it was like we were back in college and these ladies couldn't get enough of their Arbor Mist. This also put me in the awkward position of the restaurant opening a bottle of sparkling cider for me (my non-alco drink), and then seeing that there was wine in my glass, which was explained by the lush next to me that I changed my mind. This made me look like an ungrateful brat, since the sorority had to then pay for the bottle of bubbly that I never consumed. I digress.
The first course was a most delicious soup of butternut squash and pear. It was thick and creamy with a little hint of nutmeg for warmth. This was paired with a something-something Cuvee Marie from 2010, which hales from somewhere I cannot pronounce. This particular white wine boasts "aromas of exotic fruit and fresh peaches and pineapple." What did I taste? Wine. That's what I tasted. [I forgot to take a photo of the soup -- please forgive]
The main course was a generous portion of roasted poussin (a young, milk-fed chicken) with a wonderful herb rub, a side of roasted carrots, beets and sweet potatoes and a portion of truffled potatoes. YUM. This dish was paired with a 2007 Zinfandel, which was to taste of "baked fruit, spiced blackberries, anise, plum, blueberry, bittersweet chocolate and white pepper." And I tasted wine. In fact, this red wine tasted the same as the previous white. Yes, I'm sophisticated.
The salad course was a bed of baby spinach with sliced pear, grapes, red onion and spiced cashews. The dressing was the restaurants house, which was a bit sweet and balanced well with the spicy cashews. This was paired with Gewurztraminer (god-bless-you) which was to taste of pineapple, green tea, mandarin orange, honeysuckle with other floral notes, which pairs well with Asian food. And I tasted? You guessed it, wine.
The dessert course brought out a ricotta cheesecake with raspberry sauce and a slice of fudge. It was paired with a Moscato d'Asti, which is an ice wine. Ice wine, for the uninformed (which, prior to Tuesday, this included me) is a wine where the grapes are frozen on the vine, which concentrates the sugars, and makes almost a syrup. Ice wines are typically quite sweet, and many people don't like them. This particular pour was a bubbly ice wine, which helped to cut the thickness. This wine was to taste of mandarin orange, Meyer lemon, cherries, peaches and pears. Again, I tasted wine. But dear friends, this wine was delicious. If there was ever a beverage to convince me to take up drinking, this. is. it. In fact, I loved this business so much, not only did I take a sip of K's wine, I also had a few more swigs from my own glass.
As someone who is, understandably, a light weight, after these few sips of bubbly ice wine, my face began to flush a bit, and the room started feeling quite happy to me. I would never say I was drunk (dear heavens, I hope that after 3 or 4 sips I wasn't -- tres pathetic!) but all seemed right with the world when the ice wine was flowing.
[I will add a post-thought and tell you that the two bullies seated near me were not kind drunks. I'm pretty sure the one showed up already drunk, and her friend probably was too -- or just enjoyed my pours which she helped herself to. Toward the end of the evening the lady sitting next to me was practically hanging on me and was shouting into my ear some nonsense story about how her grown children are too old to enjoy her basement. This woman's friend was getting into a heated argument with someone else at the table about how Apple products are far superior to any other electronics on the market, and that Samsung has all but stolen Apple's ideas. This, needless to say, was not my favorite part of the evening.]
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