…stay hungry (literally, in the case of Alice Waters).
I’m most anxious about losing the foolish trait once I get home to Singapore – it is just way too practical a country. Almost everything is about money, money, money, otherwise status, status, status. Which school did you go to? Was it Raffles then Ivy League? Do you have a Harvard/Wharton/Stanford MBA? Before I encounter any of that back home, I’m already tired of it, because many Singaporeans studying in America are the same. Or for that matter, quite a few Americans.
I read a biography of Alice Waters today, and I really wish I have that kind of life. Perhaps the book is romanticized, but I need to pursue things I’m passionate about, that I can obsess about all the time. It was the same when I read the House of Mondavi – better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. In a society focused on winning, I want to dare to fail. I want to start a microbrewery, I want to spend a year being an apprentice at a hawker center stall, I want to create something to call my own. I know it’s tough, but I’ve been through tough and it’s all in the mind. It’s not about regrets – it’s about moving forward.
To my future self: don’t let me down!
[image from goines.net]
p/s to future self: stay idealistic – believe in friendships and build them!
The House of Mondavi (book) was out of stock at the Strand.
—
Perhaps I do come off as arrogant when I criticize, but if we keep using excuses and qualifications where we can do better, wouldn’t we all be worse off? A fine line between connoisseur/snob.
I only had the chance to visit a handful of vineyards in Napa/Sonoma, and my favorite was definitely Viansa. It was touristy, but hey I was a tourist. The packaging (bottle/label) is gorgeous, the varietals are Italian and the winemakers love ducks. I would rate duck as my favorite meat, an instinctive order for me at restaurants, especially since I can’t cook it well myself. It has the fattiness like pork, but the suitability for “medium-rare” unlike pork. It’s good French or Chinese. Back to Viansa, they had a Prindelo (Primitivo, Zinfandel & Teroldego blend) that was berry delicious.
When my friend tchia asked me for a recommendation for a Californian wine, because I had earlier told him he should really make it a point to go to Napa/Sonoma, I had nothing else in my mind other than Viansa. But Viansa doesn’t distribute, so the wonderful wine store we were at wouldn’t have it. An easy substitute would be the Sebastiani they were promoting, since the Viansa vineyard was spun off from the Sebastianis.
The other sure-hit was Mondavi’s Fume Blanc. If wine is about stories, then Mondavi is full of them and Fume Blanc is possibly the varietal story that made Mondavi famous. Besides, that bottle was made partly from To Kalon grapes – the piece of land central to the Mondavi story. Else, if wine is about taste, then Fume Blanc is very versatile with food, although it requires food – don’t make the mistake I did of ordering Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc to drink by itself. The price at $14.99 looked very reasonable too.
Since I was browsing myself, I had also thought of buying the (also $14.99) Ridge Three Valleys. Although the packaging was what made me look, what convinced me that this “cheap” bottle of wine was good was that Ridge made ridiculously expensive wine too. It turns out that using that as a shortcut isn’t too bad – a NYTimes article that flattered this cheaper bottle as a good alternative to its $400 cousins.
I think wine lies on the side of connoisseur-ship rather than snobbery. It isn’t an easy business appreciating or growing wine, even though drinking it in copious amounts is just a matter of money, liver and the ensuing gossip. Unfortunately, as the stories of Viansa and Mondavi have unfolded: good winemakers can’t keep their vineyards running at the top. Perhaps some great family businesses do need new owners at some point. Although hopefully, not a new owner like Rupert Murdoch.
[Image from Astor Place Wines website]
I grabbed a pint of half Kulfhee, half Malted Vanilla ice cream from Toscanini’s today. After the credit card reader failed twice (I had no cash), the staff told me to pay the next time I’m in the neighborhood. Wow! Tosci’s, like any celebrated store, has some detractors on Yelp! who malign things – unadventurous flavors, staff problems – because they refuse to be satisfied. When you are served by real people given the freedom to be themselves, you get genuine smiles, great knowledge (I asked why the pint in the store costs more than at a supermarket) and sometimes the wrong change – deal with it! And they trust you to go back later, someday, to pay for that pint. The human side of me wishes Toscanini’s serves ice cream just for the neighborhood forever…
…yet the economics/business side of me is interested in other questions: how do stores bridge the gap between being local (warm and fuzzy) and being a chain (spread the love and $)? How do bosses empower staff to make decisions, including financial ones, without losing control – theft from register is inevitably a source of loss of income when you have a small retail operation? Do you care for the extreme customers who desert you once they find something newer – do you make a crazy flavor just for the sake of it, for them? Where is the balance point between being Verna’s, the 61 year-old donut store that was nice enough to regulars to give a free donut with their coffee and ran into financial trouble, and being a chain like Dunkin’ Donuts, that even in Cambridge near where it started, doesn’t feel local compared to Verna’s? (A high school instructor saved Verna’s with his savings.)
The good part is, I’m sure the owner of Toscanini’s has thought a lot about it. I’ve seen him in the stores quite a few times, mostly talking seriously to some people, and I suppose they’re talking about the business. He also has an Amazon e-book, but I haven’t read it.
Tosci’s inspires fans, and I’ve been bringing as many people there or as much of their ice-cream to people as I’ve ever done for any ice-cream. And considering the foodvocate I am, that’s a lot. Haagen-Daaz strawberry cheesecake is delish, especially the graham bits, but I never meet any real humans in the process of getting that ice-cream anymore. Yet, does that matter? Haagen-Daaz’s owner grew their chain out of a small store. So did Ben and Jerry. What was the trade-off for them?
By the way, the store’s pint is more expensive because they are hand-packed, retaining the density as they are intended when made, but supermarket pints are very densely packed…and my guess from personal knowledge of ice-cream is that with supermarkets they have to make sure there’s no space for ice crystals to form, since those would destroy the smooth consistency. I noticed the hand-packed/supermarket price difference before with Ben and Jerry’s, but the B&J person didn’t really know why.
Are you for local? What do you think?
Edit on July 31st: I went back to pay the $6.25 and the cashier said I was a very honest person. Lol.
[Image from old Toscanini's website]
