Grouse

As I left the house for my weekly outing to the flea market, the nightingale-like voice of my wife called out after me.

“Don’t buy anything stupid!”

This advice seemed misguided to me for two reasons: (1) buying something stupid is the whole point of a flea market, and (2) after 19 years of marriage, the idea that I could refrain from that kind of stupidity is optimistic to the point of fantasy.

To my credit, I kept a cool head for the first 20 minutes or so of browsing. But then I found this beauty — a tapered glass decorated with a grouse. You can tell, because it is labeled as such: “Grouse.”

In much the same way as some people talk about making eye contact with a puppy at an animal shelter and instantly bonding, the Grouse Glass and I shared an instant emotional intimacy. It fluttered its way into my heart.

Which is how Grouse Glass came home with me. Now, at this point, you are probably expecting a rambling story about my spirited defense of Grouse Glass to my wife, or a pun on the fact that “grouse” rhymes with “spouse,” but you will be disappointed, because I snuck it into the house when she was busy and hid it in with the other glassware in our dining room. Now, Grouse Glass is mine and I am its and a practical matter needs to be sorted — to wit, what to drink from it.

A brief internet search for grouse-themed cocktails was unexpectedly successful. As it turns out, there are a number of whiskeys named after grouse — Famous Grouse, Naked Grouse, etc. — largely connected to the image of tweedy aristocrats shooting them. In consequence, there have been a number of cocktails named after them.

I took a recipe that was weird as snake sneakers to begin with and started playing with it. I ended up with something that is solidly good but that no self-respecting grouse would have anything to do with.

Grouse With No Self-Respect

This is based on a drink called the Dirty Bird. I have made a great number of changes and substitutions. Clearly the Grouse is not the only one lacking in self-respect.

Ingredients:

2 ounces Doritos-infused Irish whiskey (See below. No, really. It will be OK.)

¼ ounces dry sherry — I used amontillado

1/3 ounce fig syrup (see below)

3 dashes (30 drops) cardamom or Angostura bitters

1 dash (10 drops) Tabasco sauce

Mix all ingredients in a mixing glass with ice. Stir until thoroughly chilled and a little diluted.

Pour everything, including the ice, into a chilled Grouse Glass. If you do not have a grouse glass, a rocks glass will do.

Garnish and serve on a plate with Fig Newtons.

OK, you’re going to have to have a little faith on this one.

The original recipe called for infusing a grouse-named whiskey with kettle corn. I tried it — and it was fine — but it was understated, and this does not seem to be an understated drink. I got to thinking, “The corn idea is solid, but is there a way of giving it some oomph?” Hence, the Doritos.

Stay with me; we’ll get through this together.

The fig syrup is the secret star here. The whiskey hits your palate first, followed by the — believe it or not — somewhat subtle Doritos flavor, but the fig aftertaste is what makes this drink really interesting. It leads to a second sip, then a third. The bitters keep it from being too sweet, and the Tabasco adds a tiny amount of zing that keeps it from tasting a little flat.

Self-respect is overrated.

Doritos-infused whiskey

Combine one 1-ounce packet of Nacho Cheese Doritos and 6 ounces of Irish whiskey in a small jar.

Seal and store someplace cool and dark for one week, shaking it twice per day.

Strain and bottle it. (Don’t stress about how little whiskey you end up with. You like whiskey; it turns out that Doritos like whiskey. They deserve a little something for the sacrifice they have made.

Fig syrup

Combine two parts fig jam to one part water in a small saucepan over medium heat.

Boil until the jam is as dissolved as possible. Depending on what brand of jam you are using, there may or may not be chunks of fig left, after it is syruped.

Strain and bottle. Don’t worry about any tiny fig seeds — that’s what helps keep this figgy — but actual chunks of figs would probably be off-putting in the final cocktail.

Featured photo: Grouse. Photo by John Fladd.

Tractors and beer

Help ease the lawn mowing frustration

Last year, I bought a riding lawn mower. My wife said I could, so I did. I bought a used one because I’m thrifty.

First, the battery needed to be replaced. Then the mower deck wouldn’t stay level. Fast forward to this spring and it was leaking gas, which, you know, seems troublesome.

I took it to the mechanic and a few days later he called me and said, “You buy this used?” I answered in the affirmative. He said, “You know this engine isn’t even meant for this machine?” I did not know that but he fixed it as best he could and wrote in big capital letters on the receipt: “Not guaranteed for anything.” I’m feeling really good about the whole situation.

Right now, it’s sitting in the front lawn, where it currently won’t start, again.

What I’m trying to say is, this machine has made me drink a few beers recently. After our most recent fight, I grabbed an Export American Golden Ale by Shipyard Brewing Co. I needed something light that I didn’t need to think about in the moment.

I read “golden ale” and my first thought was that this is going to be just a light Pilsner, but this has a lot more malt character than I was expecting. It features a little sweetness and a touch of richness that gives this brew character. By the way, this is hardly a new brew; it’s Shipyard’s flagship brew, first introduced in 1992. This is definitely a good yard work beer, regardless of your lawn mowing situation.

Here are a few more beers that have recently helped me through these tough times.

Hoponius Union Hoppy Lager by Jack’s Abby Craft Lagers (Framingham, Mass.)

It’s not an IPA but it’s awfully similar. Unlike a traditional IPA, this is fermented cold and aged for extended periods. As the brewery says, this combines West Coast IPA hops and lager yeast fermentation. The result is a tremendous all-around beer that features huge citrus aroma, lots of tropical hop flavor and a clean, dry finish. This is a longtime favorite of mine.

Winni Ale by 603 Brewery (Londonderry)

The brewery says this one is still its top-selling beer, which is a testament to the brew considering today’s hop-crazed beer culture. This is a rich amber ale that features a little sweetness but finishes with a little burst of citrus hops. Honestly, it reminds me a lot of the Shipyard Export Golden Ale.

Pale Ale by Newburyport Brewing Co. (Newburyport, Mass.)

Call it what you want but to me this is just a toned down IPA and, man, sometimes that’s just perfect. It’s crisp, bright, refreshing and not too hoppy, but it still has plenty of citrusy hop character. When you’ve spent the day toiling in the yard with finicky small engines, this is a perfectly drinkable choice to help reward your efforts and patience. You’re going to want to have a few of these.

One to Try
Not too many craft brewers are offering Belgian-style Tripels these days, instead focusing on expanding and experimenting with the IPA style. It’s all about consumer demand, we get it. There’s something about the style I’ve always enjoyed: flavorful, complex and approachable, despite loads of alcohol. With that in mind, it caught my eye to see Granite Roots Brewing in Troy offering its Face Plant Into Rock Belgian Tripel, which features a “clean malt flavor, slight bitterness and a touch of coriander to finish dry…,” according to the brewery. This is one I’ll be trying to track down.

What’s in My Fridge
IPA by Stoneface Brewing Co. (Newington)
This is one that I just keep coming back to. It’s bright and hoppy, boasting big dry hop flavor and aromas. There is something comforting about this just being labeled “IPA,” too. It is what it is, and what it is is a great, all-around IPA. Cheers!

Featured photo: Export Golden Ale by Shipyard Brewing Company. Courtesy photo.

Two takes on pinot grigio

How location is key for this summertime favorite

Pinot grigio, long the favorite of art gallery openings and summer garden parties, is an Italian wine made from a light, red-colored grape. This has long been the go-to wine for the summer. Typically bright and citric, it can vary depending upon its terroir — the soils upon which the vines are planted and the climate in which they flourish. But this wine can go beyond summer garden parties.

Known as pinot gris in the Alsace region of France, pinot grigio is widely grown in the Friuli-Venezia Giulia region of Italy. This region is northeast of Venice and the province of Veneto, bordering Austria and Slovenia, and includes the city of Trieste. The grape is also grown in San Joaquin, Sacramento and Monterey counties in California. The wines produced from these two distinctly different terroirs are incredibly different. California pinot gris wines are lighter-bodied with a crisp, refreshing taste, with perhaps a bit of pepper or arugula to the tongue. Pinot grigio from Italy is more often light and lean, crisp and acidic without that peppery note of arugula. But the prevalent colors and tastes go beyond that.

Our first wine is the Italian version of pinot grigio, coming from the Collio Goriziano hills of the Friuli-Venezia Giulia region. The 2019 Attems Venezia Giulia Pinot Grigio Ramato (available at the New Hampshire Liquor and Wine Outlets, reduced in price from $19.99 to $9.99) is a superb example of this Italian varietal. The color is the palest of pink, without becoming clear. While citric, it is not intense, in that it has an underlying sweetness, with floral nuances of citric blossoms. To the tongue it is balanced with the acute citric notes to the edges of the tongue, and a residual nuttiness as the finish recedes, long and with a very slight tannic sense of roasted hazelnuts. This is an excellent wine for an aperitif, or to pair with a rich salad, pasta, fish or chicken.

The Attems dynasty has produced wine as far back as 1106. The long-established family founded the Collio Wine Consortium in 1964. In 2000, the vineyard was passed on to the Frescobaldi family, another centuries-old Italian family. However, the farming and production has not been streamlined with time. The 120+ acres are farmed responsibly, with organic feeding of green crops turned back to the soil. The color and creaminess come from its short time in barrel aging.

Our next wine comes from a brand owned by the beverage giant and largest California wine exporter, E. & J. Gallo. The 2020 Dark Horse Pinot Grigio (available at the New Hampshire Liquor and Wine Outlets, reduced in price from $10.99 to $8.99) is a great wine for a hot summer afternoon. It has a green cast that is almost clear in color. The nose is citric, almost grapefruit. To the tongue it is “clean and crisp” with strong citric notes. The winemaker, Beth Liston, sources the grapes for the wines she makes from over 400 vineyards across the Central Coast to create wines that outperform their price point. This is a wine that can be incorporated into a great white sangria, laced with sweet fruits, such as apricots, strawberries, and pineapple. This wine can hold its own against a chicken piccata, if your taste in wine is not along chardonnay lines. I had it with a plate of very cheesy macaroni and cheese, and it cut right through the richly dense mac and cheese.

This comparison is but another example of how the terroir, a region’s soil, topography and climate, can influence the product — the wine. To this we add another factor: the winemaker and how the wine is made. The California wine is produced in stainless steel vats, kept cool during maceration to ensure the wine remains crisp and citric. The Italian wine, while also made in a cool environment, spent a short time in oak barrels to impart a “creamy sweetness” and reinforce that slight pink color the juice has from spending a little time on the skins. It is more than interesting; it is just plain fun to see how a grape varietal can produce such divergent colors, scents and tastes.

Featured photo:

A drink for young groundlings

With the approach of Midsummer’s Eve, my teenager has some thoughts about what we should be drinking.

Harvest: I’d like to briefly discuss Titania, the fairy queen of William Shakespeare’s play A Midsummer’s Night Dream.

She is strong-willed, powerful and, most of all, beautiful. In my opinion Titania is one of the only female characters that Shakespeare paints as equal to their male or masculine counterparts. He made her free-spirited; this is remarkable because women in Shakespeare’s work are often portrayed as subservient and weak. When Oberon, Titania’s jealous lover, decides to make her look like a fool, we see her true self. Titania, having been intoxicated by a mysterious purple flower by Oberon’s servant Robin (Puck), falls in love with a man cursed to have a donkey’s head. Instead of treating Bottom (the aforementioned donkey-man) as less than her, she treats him as her equal, showering him in luxuries and attending to his needs. This in my opinion shows who Titania is and why she is one of the best female characters the bard ever wrote.

This nonalcoholic cocktail is inspired by “Love-In-Idleness,” the purple flower in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. There is a mysterious, almost magical change that happens as the ingredients are mixed together.

Love-In-Idleness

Ingredients:
4-6 ice cubes
2 ounces butterfly syrup (see below)
6 ounces cold butterfly tea (see below)
2 ounces fresh-squeezed lemon juice
12 drops rose water

In a tall glass, combine the ice, syrup and tea. It will be a beautiful midnight blue.
Add the lemon juice. It will change dramatically to a rich, violet color.
Add the rose water and stir.
Think magical thoughts while you drink this.

Normally, 12 drops of rose water would be about seven drops too many. Rose water is tricky stuff and you are always running the risk of making something taste like soap. In this case — given the backdrop of Midsummer’s Eve — too much is just about right. Making this blue cousin of lemonade extremely floral is what you wanted but didn’t know that you wanted. The sweetness of the butterfly syrup plays off the sharp, acid sourness of the lemon juice well, and you are left with an aftertaste of roses — a little like a mostly forgotten dream.

A father’s notes:

First of all — and let’s get this out of the way immediately — this drink is delicious as is, but would be arguably enhanced by the addition of two ounces of a floral gin, Hendrick’s for example.

Secondly, some observations on butterfly pea blossoms:

Butterfly peas (clitoria ternatea) (Yes, I know. Stop it.), or blue sweet peas, come from Asia and make a beautiful, subtly flavored tea. When exposed to acid, the deep blue color of the tea (and, in this case, the syrup) changes to a rather splendid purple color. The blossoms themselves (which I purchased via Amazon) have a very mild flavor and are really here for their color.

Butterfly tea – Combine 10 grams of dried butterfly pea blossoms with 4 cups of almost but not quite boiling water. (Boil the water, then take it off the heat for a minute, before adding it to the pea blossoms.) Let the blossoms steep for 3½ minutes, then strain and chill the tea.

Following up on the Midsummer Night’s Dream theme, this tea has a very background-flavory character. This is not a Titania or Oberon tea. This is a Philostrate tea — maybe a Background Fairy No. 2 tea. Imagine a jasmine tea, but not as floral; maybe jasmine tea’s personal assistant.

Butterfly syrup – Combine one cup of sugar with one cup of water, and bring to a boil over medium heat. Let it boil for another 10 to 15 seconds, to make sure the sugar is completely dissolved. Remove from heat, then add three grams of dried butterfly pea blossoms and let them steep for half an hour. Strain and bottle. Store in your refrigerator indefinitely.

Featured photo: Before (left) and after (right) the lemon juice is added. Photos by John Fladd.

Lighten up and cool down

All of a sudden it’s summer

Well, that happened fast. One day it was 41 degrees and straight up cold and the next it was 93 degrees and everyone had to make the big decision on whether to install those air conditioners now or try to wait it out for a few more weeks. New England, am I right?

In terms of beer, all it takes is that first hot day to send me on a completely different trajectory. Frankly, I’m not sure what to do with all the stouts and porters in my fridge. Kidding. I’ll still drink them.

But my taste buds immediately steer away from rich malts and toward clean, bright, light brews the second I break a sweat.

You want something refreshing and sometimes — especially when it’s hot, for some reason — you want something you don’t have to think about. Sometimes you just want a beer that tastes like a beer, and the beer that does that best is the Pilsner.

Now, a “light” beer or a Pilsner isn’t going to have the deep complexity of a big stout or the waves upon waves of flavor of a super-hoppy IPA or the overall funkiness of a sour, but lighter brews like Pilsners aren’t lacking for flavor; it’s just that the presentation of the flavor is a bit different, a bit less in your face.

Pilsners can vary considerably. The hops can give way to a wide range of notes. Some have an almost bread-like flavor, while others feature more fruity notes and citrus, or a combination. A good Pilsner goes down easy and comes in low in alcohol.

Let’s also be honest for a second: Lighter beers have fewer calories. That’s not a thing I worry about much when it comes to beer, but the reality is that low-calorie is having a moment. Low-calorie hard seltzers are exploding and low-calorie wines are on the rise.

Pilsners are the original low-calorie beer. A 12-oz Coors Light comes in at 102 calories. I know. I know.

OK, enough about calories. The Pilsner is the beer of summer and beyond, and craft brewers near and far have turned back to this style, providing beer enthusiasts with quality Pilsners to be enjoyed fresh and preferably right at the brewery. Here are four to look out for.

Revuelta Mexican Style Lager by Able Ebenezer Brewing Co. (Merrimack)

The craft beer version of a Corona: light, crisp, uniquely flavored and featuring a hint of lime. You’ll probably be having more than one of these.

Longfin Lager by Ballast Point Brewing Co. (San Diego)

Is liking the can design a reason to try a beer? I just decided it was. There’s a tuna on the can and that drew me in. This is the epitome of easy drinking: crisp, refreshing and still flavorful with a touch of a peppery bite.

Aosta by Schilling Beer Co. (Littleton)

Everything Schilling does, it does well, as far as I can tell, and one of the things they have absolutely nailed is the Pilsner. And not just one Pilsner. At my last count, they had seven Pilsners or Pilsner-like beers on tap, if I’m allowed to refer to them as Pilsner-like. This is an Italian Pilsner that the brewery says features floral, citrus and cracker malt notes on the aroma and the flavors of biscuit, cracker and melon.

North Beach Mexican Lager by Great Rhythm Brewing (Portsmouth)

I haven’t tried this one but Mexican lagers are just all about summer. This one is brewed with Pilsner malt, vienna malt, flaked corn and hallertau mittelfruh hops, which, according to Yakimavalleyhops.com, is a German hop strain that is floral, earthy and a little spicy, and I like the sound of that.

Featured photo: Cool down with a Revuelta Mexican Style Lager by Able Ebenezer Brewing Company. Courtesy photo.

Steve and the boozy ice cream

My blender died last summer.

I’m not sure what I asked it to do — scramble a couple of eggs, maybe? — but it made a sound like a dying frog, and slowly ground to a halt.

Oddly, I took this as a good omen. I had been dropping 25-pound hints to my wife about how great it would be to have an upscale, professional-grade blender. I’m not 100 percent sure if these thoughtless, insulting references to ambitious blending are what broke my old blender’s will to live, but I feel guilty about it anyway.

But not too guilty — I had that particularly dangerous gleam in my eyes that only 16-year-old boys and middle-aged men get. I really, really wanted a new blender, which my wife was fine with.

Until she found out how much it would cost.

At which point she gave me an ice-cold, steel-spined glare that the above-mentioned 16-year-old boys and middle-aged men are extremely familiar with.

A little more research on my part revealed that there is such a thing as reconditioned, high-end, professional blenders, that are slightly cheaper.

This revelation relaxed my wife’s glare by about 12 percent.

I suggested that I could put a little bit of cash aside each week and save up for one of these almost-new über-blenders, and got cautious, provisional permission to move ahead with this plan. Frankly, I’m pretty sure she thought that I didn’t have the attention span to follow through with it and would forget about it eventually.

Except that I found a loophole.

I had been throwing all my spare change in a large jar on my bedroom dresser for the past year or two — by definition saving up money, bit by bit. I made an appointment, then went to our bank to get the change counted.

When I got back, my wife asked, “How’d it go?”

I responded that unfortunately we’d need to go to the post office and get a change-of-address form.

Another confused but cautious look. “And why is that?” she asked.

“Because we’re moving to BLENDER TOWN, BABY!,” I responded, fluttering a handful of cash in her face.

Which is how I got Steve.

Steve is not a patient appliance. Every time I blend something, he urges me to use his highest setting — “C’mon, boss! Let me loose!” I quickly learned that while I could probably use Steve to grind a broomstick into sawdust, that much power isn’t all that useful for many of the things I actually want to blend. He is so powerful that on the highest settings, cavitation from the blades will lead to an air pocket that keeps the food from getting as blended as you’d think.

All of which is more or less beside the point, except to say that your blender — OK, my blender — is your (my) new best friend when you make this week’s recipe: boozy ice cream.

Rum Cheesecake Ice Cream

Put the canister of your blender on a kitchen scale and zero it out.

Add the following ingredients to the blender jar, taring the weight each time:

• 1 block / 8 ounces / 230 grams cream cheese

• Zest of 1 lemon

• 1 cup / 8 fl. ounces / 240 grams sour cream

• ½ cup / 125 ml sugar

• Pinch of salt

• 3 Tablespoons / 1½ ounces dark rum – I like Myers’

Blend. (At this point Steve chuckled evilly, and I indulged him. I turned the dial up to 8. Steve had a Very Good Afternoon.)

Put the blender jar in the refrigerator and chill thoroughly.

Blend again, briefly, then pour into your ice cream maker and turn it into ice cream.

Harden in your freezer.

So, here’s the thing about using alcohol in ice cream:

Sugar and alcohol have very important roles in ice cream, apart from tasting good. They affect the freezing/melting point and texture of the finished product in extremely weird ways. You are extremely limited in how much you can or cannot use. Do not try adding more rum to this recipe. Don’t try to find a loophole (yes, I’m aware of the irony here) and use a higher-proof rum – the amount of alcohol will seriously mess up your texture, and possibly your ability to make ice cream at all. Even the fairly modest amount of rum in this recipe dramatically altered my ice cream maker’s ability to freeze it. Normally it takes me about 20 minutes to freeze a batch of ice cream. This took close to an hour. (Steve did not help the situation by shouting disrespectful comments to the ice cream maker, across the kitchen, implying that if it was better at its job, it would have a name.)

This cheesecake ice cream is really delicious — it tastes spot-on like actual cheesecake — but the rum is definitely a subtle, background flavor.

That’s where the topping comes in.

A Possibly Misguidedly Boozy Blueberry Topping

Ingredients:

• 2 cups frozen wild blueberries

• 1/2 cup water

• 1/2 cup sugar

• 2 Tablespoons fresh-squeezed lemon juice

• 2 Tablespoons cornstarch, mixed with 2 Tablespoons cold water

• 8 Tablespoons / 4 ounces Golden Rum

• Zest of 1 lemon (about 1 tablespoon), optional

In a small saucepan, over medium heat, stir the blueberries, water, sugar and lemon juice, until it comes to a gentle boil. Let it boil for another 10-15 seconds, to make sure the sugar is completely dissolved.

Stir in the cornstarch/water slurry, and keep stirring, until the mixture thickens noticeably – about three minutes.

Remove from heat, then add the rum and lemon zest. Let the mixture cool slightly before topping your ice cream.

Blueberries and lemon go together extremely well. This is a fantastic topping. Yes, you can make it without the rum for the kids – sub in a tablespoon of vanilla for the alcohol – but this is a really, really good Thursday night, bracing-yourself-for-one more-day, grownup sundae. The rum is deceptive. You’ll taste a spoonful by itself – this is inevitable – and say, “Yup, that’s a good sauce,” then go to put the spoon in the sink, only to be stopped in your tracks by a hands-on-hips, steely glared reaction from the sauce.

“Good? That’s what you have to say? Good?”

The ice cream maker might not have a name, but I call this sauce Frida.

Featured photo: Boozy ice cream. Photo by John Fladd.

Wines for pairing

Finding food wines at Angela’s Pasta & Cheese

If you haven’t visited Angela’s Pasta & Cheese, on the corner of Chestnut and Appleton streets in Manchester’s North End, even once over its 40-year history, you have seriously deprived yourself of a real indulgence. Upon walking in, you are greeted by competing aromas of pasta and cheeses, imported meats and local breads. You are on “sensory overload” taking in the savories and sweets, competing for a primary position in your brain as you tour the store.

Angela’s is an institution that has endured but is also quietly evolving, having recently been purchased by Steven Freeman. The wine offerings are taking a slightly different course. Freeman is looking to offer wines that can be easily paired with the many food offerings the store has, creating an entire meal for you.

Our first wine, Cadre 2019 Stone Blossom Sauvignon Blanc, from Edna Valley, priced at $22.95, is described on the label thusly: “A new life of fragrant blossoms emerges from the rock and sea.” The color is very pale, a silvery light straw. Its nose is citric with a touch of grapefruit with floral, citric blossom notes. These citric notes carry through to the tongue, along with hints of green apple and a slight sweetness of a sugary melon. It is incredibly fresh with a long finish and with notes of minerality.

Paragon Vineyard, designated as Certified Sustainable, was planted by Jack Niven, who brought vineyards and wine-making to San Luis Obispo’s Edna Valley 48 years ago. The root stock is gamay noir, with the sauvignon blanc grafted in the early 1980s. Photos of the vines are impressive, as the trunks are thick, rustic and sculpted by the weather and time. The soils are described as clay with limestone, which impart their mineral nuances to the wine. Additional plantings of stock came from the Loire Valley, vines nurtured from mineral-laden soils.

The Edna Valley is unique in California in that it is but 5 miles from the coast and runs to the coast, as opposed to the many other valleys that run parallel to the coast. This geological formation allows the cool ocean breezes to bring the Pacific fog into the valley morning and night. Edna Valley was cited in a study by the University of Southern Oregon as the coolest growing region in all of California. This climate allows for bud break in February, with a growing season that can extend to the end of October.

Our second wine is a box wine, and why a box wine? For starters, it will allow you to pour a glass without exposing the rest of the bladder to oxidation. If you finish the three liters before 30 days, you are good! I do not believe a box wine has ever lasted 30 days for me!

Quandrum Red Blend, priced at $21.95, is a superb value as the box contains three liters of wine! This is also a wine made from sustainably grown grapes, from the dry, sunny region of La Mancha and the central inner plateaus of Spain. It is a blend of 80 percent tempranillo with 20 percent garnacha. The color is a dark, opaque maroon; the nose is rich with dried fruits that carry through to the tongue. This is a wine to stand up the Italian sausages and salamis of Angela’s but will also hold its own against any backyard burger, joined with a slice of Spanish manchego cheese.

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Make yard work more fun

Random beers to help with outdoor chores

My wife and I decided this would be the year we would beautify our landscaping. Mulch! Fresh loam! Grass seed! New shrubs! Flowers! And even a fancy sprinkler that sits on a tripod! This would be the year.

Well, some of those things have actually happened but others, sadly, have not. The area right in front of my house looks like a construction site. No, not a construction site; it looks like something exploded in front of my house.

There are two giant holes from removing a couple stumps, except that I’ve only been able to get one of the stumps out. I’m told I need a “come-along” and a “winch.” And then I guess I’m going to crank it right out, so says YouTube. I can’t imagine anything could go wrong.

OK, so there’s been a lot of digging and just generally tiresome labor, and that means I’ve needed to whet my whistle with some beer from time to time. My selections have been completely random and maybe even questionable but I regret nothing.

I know I’m not alone in trying to beautify lawns and landscaping this year and so I know I’m also not alone in needing something to quench my thirst.

Here’s a look at some brews that helped reward me after attacking some stumps.

Harpoon UFO by Harpoon Brewery (Boston)

I found this in the back of my dad’s fridge and when I saw it I immediately harkened back to the college days when I had far too many Blue Moons and UFOs with orange slices sitting on the brim of the glass. I think we all went to the well on this style too frequently and just got sick of it. So, probably 15 or maybe more years since I last had one of these, I dove in, and it was refreshing and tasty. There is absolutely nothing offensive about this beer. It’s definitely got a little sweetness but it’s not nearly as overpowering as I remembered. On a hot day, yeah, I think this is a winner.

Holy Donut Imperial Stout by Lone Pine Brewing Co. (Portland, Maine)

Brewed in collaboration with the famed Portland doughnut shop that gives this beer its name, this is an imperial stout brewed with dark chocolate toasted coconut doughnuts. Honestly, I’m not sure whether it’s dessert or breakfast and who really cares anyway? The main problem with this beer is that I was halfway through it when I realized it was 10.5 percent ABV — that sort of made for an interesting afternoon. This is a rich, decadent bomb of a beer that still manages to be dangerously easy to drink.

Newcastle Brown Ale by Lagunitas (Chicago)

This is another one I found in the back of my dad’s fridge — honestly, what’s in the back of this guy’s fridge is absolutely wild: Mike’s Hard Raspberry Lemonade from probably 2008, some kind of hard root beer and then some Heady Topper sitting right next to it. It’s incredible. This was one of my first favorite beers during and after college. My whole family loved Newcastle. We got kegs of this stuff for all family graduation parties, I think. And then one day I bought a six-pack and every beer in the pack was skunked, and it’s just really hard to come back to a beer once that happens to you. But you know, again, years later, this was perfectly fine! (It’s also now brewed with a different recipe.) It’s got a subtle nuttiness and a little bit of malt — extremely easy to drink. This is a perfectly pleasing if not especially remarkable beer.

What’s in My Fridge
Wachusett Blueberry Ale by Wachusett Brewing Co. (Westminster)
My wife saw this in the fridge and asked why I don’t keep the fridge stocked with this beer at all times. It’s a great question and there’s really no excuse for my lapse. If you’ve never tried this, please do. It’s super-refreshing, very easy to drink and features the extremely pleasing but not at all overpowering flavor of blueberry. Cheers!

Featured photo: Holy Donut by Lone Pine Brewing Co.

California Bordeaux

A look at American takes on French-style blends

While blending of grape varietals is not new to California winemaking, Thomas Jefferson would be pleased with some of the latest refinements to this exercise in creating nuanced and complex wines.

A lover of all things French, Jefferson was a true champion of the Bordeaux style of making wine. His favorite red wines came from the left or west bank of the Gironde River, where the blends consisted of cabernet sauvignon, merlot and petit verdot. His favorite white wines came from the Entre-Deux-Mers region that lies between the Gironde and Dordogne rivers, with sauvignon blanc as the dominant grape. From Jefferson’s day to today, French wine has been the standard by which all wines are judged. When the blind tasting of the Judgment of Paris, formally known as the Paris Wine Tasting of 1976, rated a California chardonnay and cabernet sauvignon best in each category, that standard was questioned. So is it odd that winemakers from California still try to emulate the French manner of blending grapes? Not at all, as blending adds much to the structure and complexity of the wine.

Our first wine, a 2013 Carte Blanche Proprietary White Wine (originally priced at $39.99, reduced to $12.99 at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets) is a classic white Bordeaux, inspired by the blend of 68 percent sauvignon blanc and 32 percent semillon. The sauvignon blanc grapes come from the Blau Vineyards of Knights Valley, an AVA name that is incongruous, as this AVA is at a high elevation between Napa and Sonoma counties. The semillon grapes come from the DeLorimier Vineyard of Alexander Valley, an AVA immediately west of Knights Valley. The higher elevations and cooler climates of the Knights Valley allow for slow ripening, coaxing a full range of flavors that result in this vibrant and full-bodied wine.

Nicolas Allen Wines, the maker of this exceptional white wine, is based in the Carneros region of Sonoma County, but the family that makes this wine has been in business for nearly a century. Carte Blanche is a label from the fourth generation of vineyard owners, the first being Clarence Dillon, an American financier who purchased Chateau Haut-Brion in Bordeaux, the only first-growth Bordeaux owned by Americans, the first of several other French wineries he acquired over the course of years.

At 8 years old, this is an older version of a white wine, which may contribute to its dark straw-like color and floral, yeasty nose. The semillon calms the familiar citric or grassy notes one usually encounters with a sauvignon blanc. To the tongue it is soft and buttery like a croissant. Also, in another departure from traditional American sauvignon blanc that is fermented in stainless steel tanks, this wine was barrel aged for 10 months in 20 percent new oak manufactured by the famous Taransaud barrel makers. At only 150 cases, this is an extremely low-production wine. When chilled it can stand alone,or be enjoyed with a salad or grilled fish on the patio.

Our second wine, a 2016 Petite Cote Napa Valley Red Blend (originally priced at $49.99, reduced to $22.99 at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets) honors the heritage of Bordeaux’s finest Right Bank wines that is based on a blend of 75 percent merlot, 15 percent cabernet sauvignon and 10 percent petit verdot. Created for restaurants, the wine has a subtle nose of plum and blackberry. To the tongue it is full of notes of vanilla and chocolate, lasting in a long finish. Its tannins are present with a light, dry sense of leather. This is a wine to be enjoyed with grilled steak and will complement lamb well. It can be cellared for a few years and still retain its rich fruit.

Produced from vineyards throughout the Napa Valley with its warm days and cool nights, and with great blending skill, this wine can stand up against any production-focused Bordeaux red. Created by Jean-Charles Boisset, the Boisset Collection of wines counts among 15 California-based wineries and 13 French wineries, a true blending of cultures and expertise.

These two perfectly balanced wines are to be enjoyed with the onset of warmer weather, relaxing in the afternoon, or over an early evening dinner on the patio.

Little Pink Houses

I have a theory that the greater the classic rock anthem, the less objective sense it makes.

Remember in seventh or eighth grade? That school dance? It was probably the third or fourth one that you had gone to, but this was the first time you were brave enough to dance with someone. And, of course, you waited until the very last song, which was — obviously — “Stairway to Heaven.”

It doesn’t matter if you are a man or a woman. Or whether you were a boy or a girl at the time. Even if you haven’t thought about that moment in years, it is etched in your memory. As are a series of questions you had at the time:

Geez, how long is this song? (Just over eight minutes.)

Is there something special I’m supposed to do with my feet? (No. You’re 13. Just stay upright.)

Can this person see how much I’m sweating? (Yes.)

What’s with this weird bit at the end, where the music goes from slow, to fast, then back to slow, just long enough to make dancing incredibly awkward? (Art.)

And most importantly:

What does that whole line about a bustle in your hedgerow and the May Queen mean? (Nobody knows.)

Great song.

No objective sense, whatsoever.

While this isn’t universal, I refer you to the entire catalog of Paul Simon — or for that matter, Toto.

All of which is pretty irrelevant, except to say that this week, when I saw a little pink house, it seemed important to memorialize it. And my faded youth.

Little Pink Houses

100 grams strawberries — fresh are good, but frozen might be even better; they break down better in a drink.

4 grinds black pepper

2 ounces gin

5 to 6 ice cubes

¼ ounce white balsamic vinegar — regular balsamic will work too, but your drink will end up looking a lot like root beer.

1 ounce strawberry syrup or 2 Tablespoons strawberry jam

~3 ounces plain seltzer

Muddle the strawberries and pepper in the bottom of a cocktail shaker. If you are using frozen strawberries, you might want to let them thaw slightly first.

Add gin, stir, then walk away for five minutes. This will give the gin time to extract some of the flavors from the berries and pepper.

Add ice, vinegar and syrup/jam.

Shake thoroughly.

Pour, unstrained, into a tall glass.

Top with seltzer, and stir gently.

Garnish with songs from your playlist that will drive your children from the house.

This is a refreshing, spring-like drink. It’s not too sweet, and the notes of black pepper and balsamic vinegar keep it from tasting domesticated. It’s an outstanding Zoom meeting book club drink, but also excellent for sitting on the porch and watching the bird bath. As John (still “Cougar” then) Mellencamp would say:

Aw, but ain’t that America for you and me

Ain’t that America, somethin’ to see, baby

Ain’t that America, home of the free, yeah

Little pink houses for you and me

Oh yeah, for you and me, oh

Great song. No objective sense.

Featured photo: Little Pink Houses. Photo by John Fladd.

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