Skip to main content

Super Bowl Synchronicity




=

My kind of Super Bowl

It's Super Bowl Sunday, readers.  Which really means nothing to me, honestly.  I have no vested interest, I have no favorites, I have no great love of the game.

But what I do have, dear readers, are two phenomenal food-and-wine pairings for you today.

The Vertikal Riesling with the Spicy Garlic Shrimp.  The Vertikal is fine for drinking by itself (which means, on the sweet side), but it really gains a new life when drank with the spicy, garlicky, srirachy flavors of the shrimp.

The Vertikal is a bit nebulous.  The label indicates the wine was made in the Mosel river region in Germany, which is a very good thing.  But, it's imported to the States by an American wine company...and it's not out of the question for a conversation between American importers and German winemakers to go like this:

Am: Hey, there, German wine people.  We've got a great way to sell your wine here in the States.

Germ: Oh yeah, how's that then?

Am: We know that a true Riesling is on the dry side, but we can sell more of it if it's a little sweeter.  Americans like sweeter wine, and they like feeling like they're drinking European wines.  What do you say?  Your wine, sweeten it up a little, and we'll sell it for you?

Germ: It goes against everything we believe in, but ach, we need the marks.  Okay.

There you go.  It probably happened very similar to that.

Pairing #2

Ignore the scratched-off price tag.  That's the way it is around here

=
A pretty good pairing, although not as good as the Riesling/Shrimp

For dinner tonight, the kids chose a tasty, fun French bread pizza.  The main base, though, was Ranch dressing and mozzarella cheese.  Interesting, right?  I mean, what wine does one pair with a Hidden Valley Ranch dressing?

All research points to a Chardonnay (maybe a Pinot Gris).  So, that's what I bought.  For some weird reason, Brent bought the Black Swan brand on Chardonnay...and it's not because he's a fan of the movie (because he certainly is not).  This wine was gorgeous to pour, that dark golden color...I mean, just pure spun gold.  The taste was okay, nothing terrible, but nothing to write home about either.  It paired well with the pizza, and I definitely noticed more caramel notes coming out of the wine as I ate the pizza.

And, on a plus note, making the pizza allowed me to use up the rest of my Hidden Valley Ranch dressing.  Now I can go another three years before buying another bottle (not really, but one can wish).

Go Bears!  Or Bulls!  Or Bottles of Wine!



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

(She) Blinded Me With...Citrus

Excuse my attempt at tying today's blog entry with an iconic Thomas Dolby song.  What a terrible pun-ishment. Har har har. So, we're on the backside of Winter Vacation/Christmas Break/Holiday Hiatus here.  The kids return to school tomorrow, the freshman and I start back to our respective colleges next Monday. The clock is ticking and suddenly, I am whipped into frenzy to Get Work Done.  I suspect this phenomenon happens to many, many educators who try to avoid that panic-stricken night before they go back to work. And believe me when I say, I had the deepest, most earnest of intentions to write lesson plans, write quizzes, and generally prepare for the restart of my classes next week.  Like, really. And then...I was distracted by...citrus.  This happened. Okay, so....the lemons on the far right are no big deal.  They're available year-round.  But Meyer lemons...MEYER...I only find around here in the winter.  I first read about them i...

In Which I Suspect I Have Latent Tendencies...Much Like The Hulk, Or Similar

I find in most normally functioning families, the members have a distinguishing role or legacy or skill of some kind. Like, he's the smart one.  Or, he's the religious one.  Or...she's the glue that helps the fam together.  Or, she's the savvy one, so she's the Power of Attorney. In my family, that system went something like this: My dad was The Dad.  Cantankerous, crotchety, and especially tight with daughters' curfew times.  Also, not a fan of driving in Big Cities. My mom was the long-suffering, patient, reserved one. My brother was the baby, the one who got away with murder, the namesake, and also, Frosty Hoarder. Me?  My legacy?  The Ruiner of Remote Controls.  No lie.  Although I've repressed the memories, my parents claim I destroyed at least two remotes in my tenure as Child Under The Roof.  Remote #1: milk spillage; Remote #2: applesauce spillage. So, now you see why my younger brother was the favorite. Anyway, t...

Booze for Thought

So.  Every now and then, I feel compelled to talk about something else besides food here at TTOSBF. Today, the topic is alcohol. I enjoy it.  Probably more than I really should, if I may lay the truth out there at my dear readers' feet. Sometimes it's a clever craft beer or a comforting gin and tonic.  I've realized lately that I often reach for the bottles in the liquor cabinet when I'm a.) bored b.) stressed c.) in a boozy social situation or d.) feel like I need a little reward for surviving (thus far) this Trump presidency. Huh.  As it turns out, most of my life these days moves within the realm of one or more of these four conditions. So, I was drinking often.  Every day. And here was the big epiphany: once I started drinking, my productivity went in the toilet.  Don't jump to conclusions, I hardly ever drank myself into a stupor...but I'd get the strong buzz going for sure.  Then, I was near useless.  I wanted to eat everything i...