Life is Good

I admit it, I love a good bottle of red wine. Whites have their place and time, but nothing compares to a scrumptious, full-body, dry red. I love the aroma it gives when you swish it around the glass, I love the pop of the taste buds anticipating the first sip, and most of all I love the way it lingers and comes alive, displaying all its subtle flavors and aroma after the swallow. A hearty Merlot as a compliment to lamb, new potatoes and asparagus grilled over a fire is just about as good as life ever gets. Well, at least when it comes to the palette.

Few things compare to the joy of making something yourself, and wine is no exception. Actually, one does not make wine, the wine makes itself, but that's another matter. What we can do is provide a comfortable environment and raise a wine, much the same way we would raise a child, with love, discipline and lots of patience. I am reminded of this fact today, as I rack and sample the new Merlot, still in its infant stage. Much like a child, it hasn't yet come into its own identity, but every sample yields subtle changes and maturity that wasn't there before. Just like flipping through the family photo album and observing the changes brought on by the passage of time, the wine grows, develops and becomes itself over time. The subtle characteristics that are lacking now need only patience to realize their potential.

I am excited about our 2010 vintage, and have designed a new series of 24 different labels for the bottles. I'll post up an entry with more details some other time and talk more about the plans for the vineyard on the ranch. But right now I'm simply too busy enjoying a wonderful 2006 Cabernet, wondering what things will be like in four years when the 2010 vintage is in my glass. Hopefully, pretty much the same only better; a result of my own mellowing, aging and blossoming character alongside this new wine. Yes, the joy of living, the hope found in potential, the rewards of labor- life is indeed good when one is patient enough to enjoy beautiful moments like these.

Planning the 2010 Garden

I am fortunate to still have my dad alive and healthy. Every year, with the exception of 2009, when heart surgery kept him from it, he has planted a vegetable garden. I too, it seems, have inherited the green gene and usually plant a small garden at my home here in the city. We don't have a lot of sunny space, but in the spring and summer months I squeeze tomatoes, peppers, squash and cucumbers amongst the shrubs wherever I can find room for them.

Like my father, I can hardly pass up the opportunity to pick up strange and unusual seeds I notice while on vacation and bring them home to plant. Every year I grow flowers from seed, and have a raised bed which yields fresh cut flowers during the summer months. All this means that I have just about exhausted my available real estate, and another plant would probably have the neighborhood association writing me one of those nasty letters.

This year, I am looking forward to helping my dad with his garden, while hijacking a little corner for my own. He knows a lot about traditional farming and I am practicing organic methods. We have always been very close regarding our interests, yet maintain just enough differences in opinions not to bore one another. I anticipate many wonderful conversations this spring as he shares wisdom from his fountain of knowledge while we work together.

My mother, knows just about everything there is to know about canning. Growing up, there were some lean years in the family budget and if not for her industry I don't know what we would have eaten- certainly not the awesome veggies that found their way to our table every night. To this day, one of my favorite things to eat is some sort of cow pea, with mashed potatoes, biscuits and corn. Fried country ham is good with it too, but not all that necessary.

Being February, it's time to order the seeds. I actually have some tomato and pepper seed from last years bounty, but since I will have considerably more space this year I'm expanding my horizons. Some things, like those cow peas will probably always have a reserved spot, but I have also become aware of my need to grow as much heirloom varieties as possible for two reasons; as commercial farming continues to push out the little guy, many of these varieties are in danger of being lost forever, and secondly, that question keeps popping up about what we would do if we couldn't order seed for next years harvest because of any number of possible or unfortunate reasons. This is the reason, for the most part, that I am shying away from hybrid varieties and genetic modified seed. I guess the other part is that it bothers me that a very small hand full of corporations hold the patents to the much of the available seed.

I'm sure there are other excellent and reputable suppliers out there, but this year, after much research I chose three suppliers to order from. Seed Savers Exchange, Park Seed and Territorial Seed. Hopefully, if I order anything next year it will be something I didn't order this year, as between them almost everything I'm growing can supply next years need by collecting a small amount of the harvest and saving the seed.

Just another small step on the journey.

Artisan bread

Making your own bread is not only affordable, it is actually pretty easy. OK, I'll admit, I do have some cooking experience, primarily due to imitating my mother and grandmother's great southern prowess in the kitchen, but I venture to wager even they have never made an artisan bread loaf.

In fact, I remember the very first time I tasted home made bread; It was made by the wife of a good friend of mine and the year was 1983. She was a devout Mormon woman and probably one of the most industrious homemakers I have ever met. I was amazed by both the wonderful taste, as well as the obvious difficulty involved in the task.

Years later, my wife and I find ourselves on the same journey towards self reliance and wholesome nutritional intake that are quickly becoming lost in an age of food commercialization and profit margins. While convenient to rely on the local grocery store for wonder bread, there is a certain sense of pride, not to mention the nutritional value and a small step towards independence and self sufficiency, in making your own bread.

I have not yet taken the leap of growing and grinding my own grains, but that day will come. For now, I am still purchasing bread flour, yeast and raw grains locally, but I am learning the joy and satisfaction of doing it myself, and that is priceless.

The recipe is simple, and I cannot take credit for coming up with it. I am an avid reader of things hands on and practical, and the credit for my success goes to a book entitled, "Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day", by Jeff Hertzberg and Zoe Francios. I first learned of this method in an article published by Mother Earth News, and although I'm not sure about the five minutes a day part, the process is amazingly simple, and it works. Even if you have never made bread before, by your second or third batch you will feel like a pro at it, and best of all, you will never have to eat mass produced wonder bread again.

Here is the basic recipe for Artisan Boule:
(yields four 1 pound loaves)

3 cups warm water
1 1/2 tbsp granulated yeast (1 1/2 packets)
1 1/2 tbsp ground sea salt
6 1/2 cups bread flour (not self-rising flour)

*add yeast and salt to water and stir
*mix the ingredients but do not kneed. the dough will be loose and slightly wet
*cover loosely and allow to rise approx 2 hours
*put it in the refrigerator until you are ready to make a loaf
*pinch a 1 pound ball of dough and quickly form it
*let it set for 90 minutes
*place it on a baking stone in the oven (preheated to 450 degrees)

you will want to have a broiler pan in the oven while preheating, and pour 1 cup hot water into the pan after placing the loaf in. quickly close the oven door to trap in the steam. After about 30 minutes it is done.

Experiment with grains, oats and spices and I suggest some fine extra virgin olive oil for dipping. Enjoy!

The journey begins

As long as I can remember, I have loved the mountains. Growing up, I had an aunt and uncle who owned a rustic cabin in the mountains of northeast Georgia, and fondly remember the countless weekends the whole family would spend there together. Since those days many years ago, I have longed for my own little slice of paradise, and these notes are intended to describe the journey that began so many years ago, as they slowly evolve into reality.

I should preface this by saying that I am not paranoid or a doomsday subscriber, but I am concerned with the direction our world, and society in general, seem to be headed. We have become too dependent on others for our survival, and by "others", I mean everything from government to technology.

Hurricane Katrina was a huge wake up call for me. As I sat there in a long line of panicked motorists somewhere in South Carolina at one of the few gas stations who actually had fuel, eagerly hoping for my chance to pay over $4.00 a gallon for enough fuel to get me back home. The question quickly became, "What if there is no fuel for the trucks to bring food to the grocery store?" I soon realized that each of us are just a few days away from anarchy, or worse, starvation.

The situation eventually improved, and anarchy was avoided this time, but for me, that question, and many more, remained. With a new sense of urgency, we stepped up the search process for our dream plot of land- a place where we could begin to slowly regain control of our fate.

I won't go into the details of what a pain in the ass it is to find the perfect plot of land, nor the endless hours every free weekend of driving into the middle of nowhere only to find the actual plot was nothing like the description in the sales ad. But one day, after looking at half a dozen parcels, we decided we had just enough time left before dark to view one more.

The drive in was beautiful. A small country road wound it's way through the most beautiful valley of deep green flat land, surrounded by towering hills full of hardwoods. A rolling trout stream ran along the roadside and into the pasture fields creating a postcard landscape. An old hand hewn barn marked one end of the property, and way down the road, a wooden fence marked the other end. In between were acres of flat pasture land at the base of a mountain full of hardwood trees. The property line extended all the way up the mountain, and held within it's boundaries 29 acres of the most beautiful land I had ever stood on.

Before we drove off, I had already envisioned where to put the garden, walked off the area that would one day contain the fruit and nut orchard, found the best spot on the river to place the hydro generator, located the knoll on which the house would occupy, identified where the raspberries, blackberries and blueberry bushes would thrive, and had a pretty good idea where the vineyard would go.

I am thrilled to say that we closed on the land in December, and the journey has begun. Our first act of dependence defiance was to install a small solar collector on the barn and attach three LED flood lamps to illuminate the barn and the newly hung Christmas wreath- a very fitting start.




footnote:
If you have never read it, I would highly suggest picking up a copy of Barbara Kingsolver's book, Animal Vegetable Miracle: A Year of Food Life. She more eloquently expresses the feeling we, and many others we are finding, share regarding the foods we consume and the commercial aspects involved in their delivery to your table.