Memories as Failsafes

Tintagle, 1989

A Letter to My Past

Thanks so much for tonight.

Below you'll see the lyrics that flooded my memory tonight as you spoke about the images you posted from your trip back to England, to our England (sorry about being so "owner-y" about our life there).

I really meant what I "messaged on Facebook." while you were travelling. I was overcome with the lyrics from that song:

"To be in England In the Summertime With my love Close to the edge C-c-c-c-c-close to the edge."—Trevor Horn, Art of Noise (1983, I think)

The videos you took on your journey collapsed time for me. (And, no, I have never even been to Mousehole!)  I remembered you as if you and I were there in each other's lives again. And watching from afar, it was as if you were in another time, another place and somehow in sometime with me, yet not with me. (Now, I sound like a Kraftwerk song. Oh the banality of memories.)

Pre-Rafaelite Splendour in the Grass

Then talking with you tonight it all rushed back, like the water filling the pockets of Virginia Wolff's dress as she was drowning herself in the Thames. "Another time, another face seems to step into your place. Another time." And then she rose up and didn't drown. And she saw blue sky again. She didn't succeed in ending it. It doesn't always end as we plan or think we plan.

Birdcage Walk, 1985

I do cry at the thought. I do not know how we can be so strong even at this age, that I can cry and not end up as a basket case. But so much time has passed, I suppose. I think god let's me live in peace and grow well, grow strong again. The experience the life changing moment on  April 26, you were so right to scold me. How can I forget? I suppose because to live peace I must. I do. I forget. And then I remember and sweetly, it comes back, but also a little painfully like a current, brushing me hard to pull me under, and then it doesn't. because of that strength. Because i rise up and float. I guess we both did, really. Because we are survivors, and people who chose life. Just not a life together.

And then it was 1997, and I started to live again, and stopped dying. We could. So we did.

But before then, it was ours. Yet we had no reason to know we could have it. And then, time came, and it escaped us, or we let it go, I don't remember which. Because we were too caught up in the moment. Who the hell had time to remember when we were fighting for our lives.. It was ours.

"To be in England, in the Summertime, with my love..."

Yet after a phone call like tonight, it remains yesterday and today. All a part of one life still being lived, just separately as two lives. I shake as I write this, and I remember. But night's like tonight, I cannot imagine how we chose. How did we have the strength to choose to do what you had to do? How could you? I almost envy you.

I write with a heaving heart. I cannot express how hard it is to do so tonight.
I do cry at the thought. Then I pick myself up, dust myself off...




John Foxx – Annexe Lyrics

Once I was walking alone with a friend
And as we spoke I felt the room begin to fade
And as I looked into another face I thought I knew
I realised some other smile was shining through

Chorus
Another time

"Don't try to talk right now

Just hold me where we stand..."

Another place
Another face seems to snap into your place
Another time
Another place

Don't try to talk right now
Just hold me where we stand
You know I need so much to give some time to you
But often when I try I find that other world behind
Another time
Another place

Once I was walking alone with a friend
And as she spoke I saw the room begin to fade
I turned around to find another lover walking by me
Though she wore her hair a slightly different way.

Sportello, Boston

An Evening at a Fine Dining Cafeteria

So I came back to Chef Barbara Lynch's @Sportello, after all these years. I had last been here when I was workign for Reading Is Fundamental and I was in town for an IRA convention event at the Children's Museum that is practically next door. I'm remembering having a cocktail hour with Peter Reynolds. He and his twin brother had been the M.C. for the annual RIF gala, and I was in Boston reveling in the afterglow at his spectacular offices. 

High-end Cafeteria Luxury

At any rate, I recall coming back the next evening when my hotel concierge suggested a dinner spot called Sportello. This suggestion turned out to be a terrific idea. While Boston prices do make you wonder if D.C. is a cheap city to live in!

When it comes to ordering, I always try to get something I wouldn't either be able to make at home or be willing to make. Looking at the short menu, I'm thinking the braised rabbit with Picholine olives and rosemary and ricotta-stuffed melanzane looks like something I'd never make but would kill to eat. Getting through a menu full of excellent options is easy when these choices are included. There is nearly nothing on this menu I wouldn't love to eat.

@SportelloBoston , part 1: An "Open Table" at the Bar, Really? 

1960s cocktailer at the ersatz wine bar 

OK, so I had set up a reservation on Open Table, but the second the guy sees that I'm a table for one, he scowls and gives the two-top to a couple and tells me I can sit at the bar. Urgh. I'm all, "For chrissakes, I've got a reservation for an OPEN TABLE, not a seat at a bar..." But turns out this bar is a little bit different. They sat me at the "wine bar"...seriously, this is the most down market wine bar ever. And that's intentional. Your rear pays extra for the incredibly uncomfortable 1960's Mrs. Robinson's lanai cocktail stools, think "The Graduate." 

"Oh Benjamin...stop complaining..."

No seriously, these cocktail stools are a mesh specifically designed to turn your seat into a flesh waffle. I have friends who would kill to be sitting here—Scott, I'm looking at you! But me? I was just sitting there ready to kill...

Thankfully my server came along and walked me through a terrific wine by the glass list. Now, say what you will about wines by the glass (and many have: namely, they're a terrible waste of money, you should just get the bottle), I do not relish sitting with an entire bottle of wine as a single diner and (a) looking as if I have a problem, and (b) seeing most of it go to waste because I'm in town working.

This wine list was exciting because they found "affordable" ($9-$15/glass) fine wines that they could serve by the glass. more on that in a moment

@SportelloBoston, part 2: Fava Beans and a Lovely Chianti?

Fava bean "hummus" and a delightful fenneled bread
for the sybarite in all of us.

As I cast my eyes down the menu, I came upon a fava bean puree. This is something that back in my vegan days, specifically when I was a student in Bristol, England, I would consume every Sunday night with a coterie of likeminded souls escaping Thatcher's England for something a little more delicious, We gorged on it.

Short but Special Menu
Just try finding something you won't eat here. Dare ya.

But at Sportello, there is no gorging. Portions are for adults, not college students, and this particular treat would be meaningless without an order of the smartly portioned house-made bread (required, but most certainly not complimentary here). The u-shaped fennel bread provides a truly amazing opportunity; it's just a thing of beauty. The round walnut bite has a non-yeasty mouth feel, so it's peculiar but also was servicable even if it clearly did not go with the starter I'd ordered. However, the spiadinni is just a crisp of sorts, so it's a little odd as well, but at least worked with the silky fava bean glory that coats the mouth. 

Hannibal Lecter was right about the fava beans, but wrong about the Chianti (see link above for explanation of that quote), however. My server steered me to the blended white from Mt. Etna. High-altitude whites from Sicily? Who knew? Strange and special. The time I took with the waiter was well worth it; he guided me with little effort to this terrific white and sturdy red also from Italy.

A Seat Looking Out Onto Boston

But no sooner had I looked up while I waited for my breads to join my fava bean puree, then the braised rabbit came out. It was waaaay tooo soon. 

From my FB page, where I was live-posting my dinner:

"I'm now sitting in front of a starter and an entree. Very annoying. The tastes all work together terrifically well. Great servers, too. But ultimately, they clearly cannot control the kitchen. Bostonians eat early I'm guessing. It's only 8:34 p.m. What gives? So, I've sent back the rabbit. Oh god...what will happen? Chefs hate that sort of thing. Stay tuned to find out. I'm as unsure as you, i assure you."

My Seat at the "Wine Bar"

@SportelloBoston , part 3: the Returned Entree.

Ultimately, my server assured me there'd be no problem holding my entree. Frankly, I'm paying a small fortune for the entree, so "holding" it didn't sound like anything I relished doing. However, hold it they did.

By the time I'd slowly poured through the white and my starter, the rabbit resurfaced. The melty shaved ricotta salata or parm or whatever it is is a sign that they do have heat lamps even in high-end restaurants; they're somewhere around here. It's a caf, after all, right?!

And still, even after the 20 minute wait to return the entree to my place setting, the slightly salty, braised rabbit proved a strong entree.

But wait, in the tradition of Frank O'Hara, a digression, I went to my Bethesda, Md., butcher the other day and asked him to de-bone a rabbit for me. 

• But no. 
• No phone call back. 
• Silence. 
• No rabbit. 

Even my butcher abandons me in times of culinary need. And people, this is Bethesda, for chrissssakes. And so ordering rabbit when out for dinner is almost a must for me. Grateful I was. 

Braised rabbit in Strozzapreti, the Priest Strangler

The rabbit was in a salty stew of gentle, not overpowering rosemary and olivey goodness. The final (de-boned) result was then folded into spaetzle-like pasta, apparently called "Strozzapreti." This particular hand-made pasta—also something I won't make at home—is just incredibly satisfying. The Picholine olives and rosemary lend the dish a joyful sweetness, combined with an herbaceous quality, and again that saltiness you begin to crave mid-way through.

But it's that al dente, spaetzle-like pasta thing that I keep coming back to....what is it? It's almost German. Is this a pasta from where? Trieste? Pasta from northern eastern Italy? At any rate, like I say, apparently it's called "Strozzapreti." It's apparently Umbrian, but I swear to god they're making it in a spaetzle-style, rather than traditional pasta methods. 

Sold!

Tonight's dinner out: a success. And a lesson is learned: Make friends early with your server. If you need to return food, it comes back without the spit and anger! And the wine by the glass? Unique, impressive, affordable. Final bill, not so much. But at least with the guidance from my server, I wasn't raked over the financial coals!

___________________________________________

Be sure to follow A Lunch Box Blog  

Twitter   *   Facebook  *  Tumblr  *  Google+

Ramps! Ramps! Ramps!

[Today's blogpost was originally published in 2012]

It’s that time of year again…ramps season! The farmer’s market has never looked so appealing. Walls of ramps! Little wild leeks that basically haven’t really been commercially farmed yet.

Ramps grow wild by creeks and trickles of running water, so they’re perfect with folks who have soaker hoses that they run fairly regularly.

Bev Eggleston, courtesy of Cynthia Connolly
all rights reserved

Talking with Bev Eggleston at the Dupont Circle farmer’s market on Sunday, I ask him about them. He announced he’d have ramps soon; he normally just sells his incredible pork and other meat products. However, he was saying that a couple of years ago, he had given Cynthia rootstock ramps that he heard she’d planted in her backgarden (see image at the close of this blogpost today).

And lo! They are big and full and ready for prime time now.

There are a myriad things you can do with these gems. The recipes are endless, but I cook them like one might put a scallion directly on the grill after a light olive oil and salt/pepper marinade. These are terrific with grilled meats. Garlicky, but great.

Sundays are Ramps Days!

I find myself wondering what’s up with all these odd vegetables and suchlike showing up at farmers markets and in the forests around the world these days. In the (Manchester) Guardian, they published an article on wild garlic. After having read it, I began to think that Mid-Atlantic ramps might be the same thing.







In her article, the author Karen Homer writes:

“But as welcome as shop-bought offerings of asparagus, young spinach and purple sprouting broccoli are, the real treats don’t come neatly packaged. Right now, anyone fond of a woodland walk has an extra reason to don their wellies: at this time of year wild garlic is prolific.”

Courtesy of Cynthia Connolly
all rights reserved © 2012

Whatever way you look at it, I think that it’s time to take action. No literally, they're only in season for 2-3 weeks:

• Strap on your boots
• Forego the $4.50 per tiny little bunch
• Find a bog near you
• Scoop up these little gems, and
• Cook those ramps up!

Gentlemen, start your engines!

___________________________________________

Be sure to follow A Lunch Box Blog  

Twitter   *   Facebook  *  Tumblr  *  Google+

What to do With Parsnips

Stuck indoors on these cold Spring days we've had here in the midAtlantic, I've been struggling to find the right balance of meal and inactivity. Solution? Soup!

And what a terrific recipe to make. Sure, usually, you expect to hear that a soup is delicious. there are entire restaurants dedicated to just making the stuff. But this soup truly is delightful to make. It’s the process of roasting garlic, rosemary, onion, and parsnips for nearly an hour that transforms the experience of making this soup from work to sheer pleasure.

Rest assured, if you live in an apartment complex or have neighbors in close proximity as I do, the neighbors will ask what the heck you’re making. This cooking process makes the kind of smell in your home that you hope for each time you walk into a fine Italian or Mediterranean restaurant.

And again, like Scott’s butternut squash soup, this one is big enough for a meal, but also delicate enough to be a starter for a much bigger meal. As usual, if it’s a starter, I recommend using espresso cups for serving or very small bowls. If it is the entrée, I highly recommend that amazing yeasty olive breads you can get in Ralphs, Safeway, Kroger, Harris Teeter, and a whole host of mainstream supermarkets these days. La Brea Bakery bread will work just perfectly and take this from just a soup to a main course in seconds.

The white beans make it filling and hearty; the parsnips and garlic make it tasty and memorable. As I write this, I’m kinda drooling just thinking about it. 

I’m suddenly hungry for lunch, and it’s only 10:30 a.m.

As you can I skipped the pumpkin seeds entirely. No need. Although visually, I’d agree, it’d look better.

But don’t kill yourself making dinner. Simplify your life with this 4-step dinner process. It’ll be much better than anything you’ve had at Panera, and your house will smell amazing.

A big thanks to Catherine Gewertz of Curvy Mama Pies for today's recipe.

Roasted Garlic, Parsnips, and White Bean Soup

Serves 6

Ingredients

4–6 extra large cloves of garlic, skin intact, left whole

1 lb. parships (about 4), cut into 1=inch pieces

1 onion chopped roughly

1 15 oz can white beans, drained and rinsed or 2 cups of cooked white beans

6 c water or vegetable broth

1 T lemon juice (the juice of about ½ lemon)

2 T olive oil, plus more for drizzling

1 T dried rosemary (or a 2”-3” sprig of fresh)

1 T salt

Toasted pumpkin seeds, to serve

Directions

• Preheat over to 400 degrees F.
• On a large rimmed baking sheet, toss garlic, parsnips, onion, oil, rosemary, salt, and pepper. Roast for 45 to 55 minutes until garlic and parsnips are tender and turning golden.
• Gently squeeze garlic from the skins and put into your food processor along with all the roast vegatables, beans, water or brother. Puree in batches
• Transfer blended soup to a large pot, bring to a simmer, stir so the soup doesn’t scorch the bottom of the pot.
• Serve hot with sprinkle of pumpkin seeds and drizzle of olive oil.

Lemon or Parmesan?

Some of my guests squeezed drops from the half lemon into the soup. The original recipe calls for cooking the lemon juice into the soup on the final simmer; however, the lemon significantly changes the flavor. I recommend against doing that. I also tapped a teaspoon of parmigiano reggiano over the top, and olive oil—the lemon was superfluous.

___________________________________________

Be sure to follow A Lunch Box Blog  

Twitter   *   Facebook  *  Tumblr  *  Google+

Barboursville 2010 Octagon

2010 Octagon

A Bottle for a "Special Evening" Red 

'topher came for dinner the other night, and we were terribly excited to be at the end of the winter stockpile. All that was left worth drinking with our dinner was the Barboursville 2010 Octagon. Named after the building that is on site at their property in Colonial Charlottesville, The Octagon is the winery's premier bottle, and held up pretty well, given my cheapy little wine cooler isn't exactly the finest storage unit in the world.

2010 Octagon
Barboursville Winery

• Charlottesville, Va.
• Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon and Petit Verdot
• 14.3%
• $58 at Wegman's Supermarket, Ashburn, Va.
• purchased summer 2014
• consumed April 2, 2016

Now I've spent some time travelling with 'topher, and he's my go-to when drinking fine, expensive wine now that KoKo lives in Catonsville. (Insert Sad Panda Emoticon here). 'topher's palette knows what it's talking about and even when I'm not sure where the wine is going as it opens up, he knows how to appreciate the wine as it expresses in the glass over time.

'topher and I kickin' it at Chimney Rock

Pic from the Chem Lab
at Chimney Rock

Our first notation was that even after an hour in the decanter, the wine hadn't opened up appreciably. It was almost "weak" and felt unpredictable. Had I purchased a bad bottle? The cork was a big desiccated and dry in  spots. It looked as if I hadn't turned the bottle sufficiently in the cooler.

And though we began with a rich plate of Castelveltranos, double-creme brie, Tempranillo jam, and a really fine olive bread, we decided the wine needed time after a starter sip. So we swifly moved to a bottle of Gustav Lorentz Pinot Blanc. After a pair of glasses there, we meandered back to the table.
Would this journey into a Virginia Bordeaux-blended red be worth the price? Worth the trouble?

'topher raising a glass to our lunch hostess at Pride Mountain

Well, as he and found throughout Napa, it was hit or miss. On our whirlwind excursion there, we hit some truly fine wineries, but mediocre tastings. Chimney Rock hosted us and treated us well, Quintessa was a superb tour, but the wine tasting was meager. It wasn't until we arrived at the top of Spring Mountain where I put on a show and got us on property without an appointment. The great luck meant the woman who served us at Pride Mountain Wines was thrilled to have the company on bottling day. She was bored watching the laborers fill the bottles off a truck int he lot and she was more than happy to welcome us to not only their fantastic winery, but also to offer us the ONLY spot in all of Napa that had legal space for dining. Part of the property sits on the Sonoma County facing side, and so they have perfect picnic tables there for those thrifty wine touring folks who need shelter from the brutal attitude of Napa.

Back to the Barboursville

And Pride wines are truly terrific, so after a bottle of the Cab, we were ready to get back on the road and find out accommodations(!)

Oh my...I'm veeeeeeered waaaaaaaay off topic. Yes, again...the review of the Octagon.

Here's our notes from the dinner. The 2010 Octagon was served with a supper made of three primary plats, small sides. A chicken thigh, a small portion of fresh pasta with fresh tomato, and a saladette.

• Martha Stewart's Parm-stuffed Lemon Zest Chicken
• Fresh Pasta made in a fresh tomato sauce with tomatoes I'd canned last summer
• And a gorgeous farmers market salad with L'Auberge Chez Francois dressing

The first glass had a nice fragrance. We decanted 1 hour before sitting down. This dry red wasn't particularly bold or high in alcohol, despite 2010 being a hot summer. The wine really changed its shape once we drank it with the main meal. The wine did not particularly go well with the appetizers mentioned earlier in the blogpost. However, more was to come...

When the wine mixed in the mouth with the skin of the chicken (stuffed with panko, parm, red pepper, and lemon zest), the mouthful took on a smokey-ness that was beyond expectation. The wine kicked the entire meal up a notch. Smoke, tobacco, smooth tannins, and a really pleasant mouthfeel. For $58 a bottle, you would expect no less, I realize. But I have to admit, I have no compunction about spending this kind of money on a wine that can accentuate and surprise when served with the main.

So often, reds will be so palatable that you'll chug them with the melty brie or salty cheeses and olives, but this one you want to wait for. So splurge a little. Skip the macchiatos this month, and get to Wegman's for a bottle of "special evening red." 

___________________________________________






Be sure to follow A Lunch Box Blog  





Twitter   *   Facebook  *  Tumblr  *  Google+

Saucy Side Dishes, Arugula Pesto

Most evenings after work, it's all I can do to make sure I make an entree for dinner. Tonight: spaghetti. Tomorrow: broiled chicken. Blah. 

After a while, it's like, "Jeeeez, let's just go out to eat." 

Orchiette Swathed in Arugula Pesto

The trick for me is side dishes, sauces, toppings, and other accoutrements that make food more, well, interesting. You'll see in an upcoming post about sweet potato soup, it's not about the soup as much as it is about the candied bacon, the rye croutons, and the drizzle of seasoned butter. 

One of the things that helps bring more characters to a boring ol' chicken breast for me is arugula pesto. The pesto is peppery but soft on the palette quenched by the other flavours that marry nicely. It can also be a garlicky fun time, if you so choose.

The recipe I'll share today is from The Blue Bottle Cookbook. My friend Emily found this gem and it's your lucky day that it's here for you. Why? Because it is simple, fast, and every time I've made it, it's been absolutely perfect.

I struggle with basil-based pestos: 

• They go brown/off-colored quickly unless used immediately. 
• I cannot keep them tasting fresh; they seem to go off quickly or the flavors fizzle in the 'fridge.
• My basil pesto rarely folds or sticks easily and nicely to the pasta.

The reason for these problems? Probably varies, but it's most likely because basil is a tender leaf that is not also chlorophyll-laden, but also vitamin- and mineral- rich. Arugula has none of these challenges. It appears to have virtually no vitamins or minerals of note. A little frustrating because I always thought arugula was healthy for you, but hey, if I'd known this about basil before I wrote this blogpost, I'd have sought out a fool-proof basil pesto recipe. As I say, I'm not aware of one that doesn't tune the pesto into a lemony culinary detour.

In the images I have included here, I've only used this over pasta as you can see. However, this pesto works beautifully over boiled and sliced potatoes. It makes a terrific cold potato salad. But as a warm pasta dish, it's unbeatable. So attractive and so flavorful. Enjoy experimenting with this.

And don't be turned off by the rosemary or the parsley. You don't taste either very much at all. And I've made the same recipe below with 3 cups of arugula and no almonds at all, and it's just as delicious. I'm not sure the nuts are required at all. The way it blends, it's perfect without.

Orchiette Lightly Touched
With Arugula Pesto

Blue Bottle Cookbook's Arugula Pesto

1/2 c almonds

1 c arugula

1 c parsley

1/4 c Parmarsan (pecorino)

Salt

2 T EVOO oil

2 to 3 inches of rosemary leaves fresh

1/4 c water

1 clove garlic

Puree all ingredients in a food processor. Done.

Happy side-dishing. This pesto will bring zing to your humdrum 

weekday dinners.

___________________________________________







Be sure to follow A Lunch Box Blog  






Twitter   *   Facebook  *  Tumblr  *  Google+

Stone Cold Fox From Chronic Cellars

What is it to be a foxy wine? "Foxy" usually means "Ewwwww, spit it out" gross. But Stone Fox is a foxy wine from Chronic Cellars, from what I believe is sourced out of Sonoma, and it stirred the French cockles of my heart (read: palette). It is quite simply a fox of a wine, like a "hot chick" or like that song from the '70s, "Sexy Lady" by the Isley Brothers. Now, why the image on the bottle has a Medusa-headed gal on it is anyone's guess. Certainly not a foxy image. But in spite of its packaging, I really enjoyed this wine.

Chronic Cellars' Foxy Lady: Stone Cold

2014 Stone Fox

Chronic Cellars

$22 online 

• 35% Grenache Blanc
• 33% Viognier
• 32% Picpoul

As Rhone-styled whites go, it's hard to beat the sensational trio of varietals that drive the wines of this region of France. So, attention new world wine makers, please help Chronic build the idea of Rhone white varietals in the states, so we begin getting better white wine blend options.

The Stoop: Grenach Blanc-heavy Whites Await

Grenache Blanc.

Viognier.

Marsanne. 

Roussane. 

Picpoul.

These grapes positively scream my name. Well, so do Alsace's Pinot Blanc and Pinot Gris, but I suppose that's for another blog post.

Goes Nicely With Grilled Pork Loin,
Did I Mention?

This bottle is a terrific expression of these grapes via the California terroir that ages them into this bottle. Overall, Stone Cold is a really enjoyable bottle, and it's Tuesday night sippin' wine. While the price may be above your Tuesday sippin' wine price, I think it serves nicely, given it's expression in the glass. I nursed this for 4 days in the 'fridge and was simply not disappointed.

The fresh and round shape with its fatty viscosity sidles up to a soft acidity that doesn't complicate the way a dry Riesling or a more purely floral Viognier might. I relish the way it floats on the tongue and brings simple joy to the glass.

Where I live, it's what I wanna have when I'm sitting languid on The Stoop (see picture above) watching all the girls and boys go home from work up 18th Street, back into Adams Morgan at the end of a hard day.

The Pros:

• Will please those who are accustomed to Rhone whites. 
• The silky mouth feel gives way to a pleasant punch without an alcohol burst at the finish. You can drink this without the stupor associated with higher alcohol California Chards.
• The wine is pretty in the glass; superb color, nice balance on the tongue.
• It's a memorable concoction of grapes, the Rhone white blends, so it's a new journey for friends who don't know these grapes.

The Cons:

Thank you, Wine Exchange

• Not many folks know Rhone whites, so this may be a standoffish hipster for wine newbies.
• The bottle artwork is not my cup of tea, much like I said about the company's red. Again, ideal for the Dead Head in your life who is weening himself off weed. 
• Feels like they're trying to corner the market on men looking to remember that "Stone Cold Fox" that they can still taste on their lips—like she used lipsmacker cinnamon lipstick or something. This bottle's flavors will disappoint for those chaps.
• Not sure folks will "get" the marketing of this wine, and it could die on the shelf without an awareness campaign of how special this version of Rhone white blends is.

Hope you are finding these reviews helpful and not annoying. Wine reviewing can really bug folks, I get it. But hey, I write the best I can, not the way a pro would.

Be well, drink Rhone wines like my friend Muffy taught me back in the '80s. She was right. And if you cannot afford the French ones, Stone Fox will do just fine.

___________________________________________

Be sure to follow A Lunch Box Blog  

Twitter   *   Facebook  *  Tumblr  *  Google+