GASTRONORMOUS

After a particularly tiring week, I decided to cap off my Friday with a nice, BIG red. I am not always into big wines (and certainly would not be today as the temperature reaches for 100 degrees!), and I know some people abhor these redder-than-reds. And I can’t blame them; when “big” wines are done wrong, they taste like grape juice fortified with rubbing alcohol. Cheap tequila should make you feel the burn, a mid-priced Zinfandel shouldn’t.

Unfortunately, this is what my throat experienced after I cracked open the bottle of Cline Ancient Vines Zinfandel recently. At first it doesn’t seem bad, it is very rich and very fruity, but then, as you swallow you get that unpleasant burn of alcohol that starts at the back of your throat and sends astringent vapor into your nose. I was surprised as I have enjoyed this wine in the past, but this must have been a different vintage (2006).

It made me long for the great, but difficult to find in my area, Layer Cake Shiraz, which was a huge wine I tried a month or so ago, full of bold flavors of berries and chocolate. There is a good reason the Layer Cake brand, which produces wines in Australia (Shiraz), Italy (Primitivo), and Argentina (Malbec) has garnered a cult following. They make big wines that are richer, more complex, and more satisfying than their alcohol-bomb brethren. (Well, I have not had the Malbec, and considering that varietal’s characteristics, may very well not be as big a wine.) Even better, all Layer Cake varietals are $20 and under!

They aren’t a giant producer, so their wines can be difficult to find, but if you see a label with a luscious chocolate cake on the label, by all means, buy a slice.

These Cipolle Fritte (left) may seem like a lot of work, but my, oh my, look at the payoff! (from Accidental Hedonist; photo courtesy Kate Hopkins)

Why buy those anemic little vanilla beans folded in half, shoved in a jar, and languishing on the shelves of your local Safeway, when you can have these gorgeous and aromatic beans Clotilde describes over at Chocolate & Zucchini.

I love Top Chef, I’d go as far as saying I am a fan, but I am not obsessed with it (many are–This Bravo program has a following of near-Lost Proportions). In fact, I think my favorite thing about watching the show is actually later reading Josh Ozersky and Adam Platt’s IM exchange reacting to each episode with typical incisive wit. (Btw, in case you are a fanatic about the show, Grub Street has other great coverage of it, including interviews with booted cheftestants).

We bought some baby artichokes a few weeks ago and just simply blanched and grilled for want of better ideas. They turned out to have little flavor other than the bitterness of the burn marks. Bittman at the NY Times Dining section has a much better recipe idea.

At the risk of seeming pickle-centric this week (after my earlier post on okra pickles), I must admit that I am intrigued by these recipes for pickled prunes(!) and grapes (via The Kitchn, via Wandering Chopsticks).

For our anniversary last month, we decided to take a tour of the Scharffen Berger chocolate factory in Berkeley. Long a haven for foodies, Berkeley offers up such pantheons of culinary distinction as Alice Waters’ Chez Panisse (at which we looked but didn’t touch!), but also caters to its college population and the aging hippies that still grace the parks and street corners.

Founded in 1996 and named for co-founder John Scharffenberger (he was required to split the name in two for copyright reasons), the operation is located in an old Heinz pickle factory in the industrial section of town. Quaint and fresh in that “old made new” aesthetic popular in many a historic district, the factory is surprisingly small. Even though the company was recently acquired by Hershey (as a part of their Artisan Confections Company, which also includes Dagoba Organic Chocolate and Joseph Schmidt Confections), the factory maintains an independent production process and only makes a few million pounds of chocolate a year. The big commercial chocolate factories top that in less than a week.

Sharffen Berger offers a large range of chocolate products, from roasted cacao nibs to three types of ganache–and of course chocolate bars. Although the company does produce what they call “milk chocolate” (it is 41% cacao as opposed to most other brands 10% or so), all Scharffen Berger chocolate is technically dark chocolate based on the percentage of cacao used (ranging from 41% to 82% cacao for bars and up to 99% for baking squares).

After an overview lecture (coupled with copious tasting), the factory tour was brief but hands on; in Scharffen Berger’s world, there isn’t much to it but selecting, roasting, pulverizing, and tempering the cocoa beans (a process during which cacao paste is melted along with cocoa butter, and in the case of the “milk” chocolate variety, milk) into the final product.

We each had to don hairnets (and even beard nets for the especially hirsute) before venturing into the racquetball-court-sized production room. The vintage European machines used to make the chocolate are unique on this side of the Atlantic, and can only process beans in small batches. On this day, no roasting or tempering was in process, but we did get to see the chocolate nibs crushed on a granite wheel into a sticky paste called a chocolate liquor. The aroma was incredible: not sweet, but rather earthy and deep, much like coffee grounds or a dark beer. During the lecture, our guide passed around a block of cocoa butter (“Rub it in!” he said, and I did. Smelling like chocolate is second only to eating it!) and offered cocoa nibs for each to taste (they taste much like the factory smelled, and most of our tour group visibly blanched in surprise). Among other interesting “nibs” of information, we learned that no chocolate goes to waste; if bars aren’t pressed properly, or don’t meet quality standards, they are simply re-tempered and put through again. College students make the factory’s dumpsters a regular stop in their diving tours, our tour guide noted, and always come up empty-handed. Fortunately, we didn’t leave empty-handed!

Like all factory tours, we were spat into the gift shop at the end and stuffed full of samples, but none of us minded a bit. Having taken a Disney-fied tour of the Hershey factory in Pennsylvania, I was pleased that this tour was its polar opposite; intimate, simple, and without artifice, much like the product. The tour, like their chocolate, has a lot to recommend it.

The building also houses a charming, light-filled café called Café Cacao that serves brunch, lunch, and an assortment of chocolate treats. We opted for little “whoopie pies” made of chocolate cookies and peanut butter cream and Scharffen Berger hot chocolate. An overload of chocolate, but excellent nonetheless. Of course, I bought an assortment of bars and a bag of nibs. Nibs can be substituted for chopped nuts in any recipe with interesting results; I also sprinkle them on ice cream or (gasp) in a peanut butter sandwich.

After the tour, we nipped into town to visit the first Peet’s Coffee & Tea store on the corner of Walnut and Vine Streets. Founded in 1966, Peet’s provided the first beans to what became the Starbucks chain, but refused to compromise quality and service to likewise expand into a full competitor. Today, Peet’s is a smaller, beloved chain mostly on the west coast offering up coffee and tea amid African artworks and brewing paraphernalia. Peet’s sells a Scharffen Berger mocha that is to die for; it’s the perfect marriage of chocolate and coffee, and what better way to celebrate local culinary culture (aside from nabbing that Chez Panisse reservation)?

1 hour Public Tours are free
7 days a week, 4-6 times a day
Reservations Required

Scharffen Berger Chocolate Maker
914 Heinz Avenue
Berkeley, CA 94707
(800) 930-4528

Whether you are in the market for Crazy Jerry’s Lizard Eyes Habenero-stuffed olives or maybe a jar of Scorned Woman hot sauce, you will find it at Mo Hotta Mo Betta. This website has a great selection of all things spicy, from mustard to nuts. It specializes in hot sauces, and helpfully lists the Scoville rating of each sauce so that you know the trouble you are getting your tongue into.  (Thanks for the recommendation, Ivan!)

A few years ago, my friend Em, who grew up in Texas, introduced me to pickled okra. Specifically, Talk O’ Texas brand pickled okra (the company produces two products: okra pickles and liquid smoke. That is their entire product line, which is pretty gutsy and awesome). Ever since, pickled okra has been for me a special sort of object of obsession that only things which are very difficult to obtain are (like, say, white truffles or authentic Birkin bags). You see, up here in Yankee territory, okra in just about any form isn’t much appreciated, and pickled okra is especially hard to come by. Whenever I happen across a jar in a store, which is rarely, I am compelled to buy it.

About a year ago, I read about a cool local company called Rick’s Picks that specializes in all things pickled (traditional cucumber pickles, green beans, beets, etc.), including a concoction called smokra, a spicy pickled okra with smoked paprika (hence the smah in smokra). I was intrigued. I went to stores that carried the line, even the huge Red Hook Fairway, and while they had some Rick’s Picks products, none had the smokra. I went everywhere in New York–and the city seemed determined to deny me.

I finally gave up on the all-consuming search and went on to concentrate on other things like, I dunno, planning my wedding. Then, a few weeks ago, the quest for smokra all but forgotten, I went into the little corner store in my new neighborhood, and there exactly at my eye level in the refrigerator case: smokra. The price was steep, at $10.95 (really? for a dozen okra in brine?), but, really, I had no choice but to buy. As they say, where there is smokra, there is a fire in my belly (that is what they say, right?).

When I got home, I agitated the jar and, with the delight of a child shaking a snowglobe, watched the deep red paprika disperse throughout the brine. I cracked it open and tried a spear. Hm. It sure was different. I wasn’t sure I liked the very smokey smokiness of the paprika in the brine. It seemed to overpower the other ingredients with its distinct musky flavor. The clear, bright voice of the whole red pepper in the Talk O’ Texas version allows the okra pickles to sing more than the raspy, thick voice of the smoked paprika in Rick’s Picks version. Also, Talk O’ Towns’ okra is crisper, which is a plus.

I must add that as I have worked my way through the jar over the past weeks, the smokra has grown on me a bit, but still, I think the next time I see Talk O’ Texas okra pickles, I will buy with renewed appreciation and vigor.