Deacon Dr. Fresh Wine Newsletter

Billy's Best Bottles Book is Back!

2011-11-30T16:44:00.002-05:00

Greetings Fanz and Foze!

Is it just me, or is time passing faster than ever? The Deaconess says that Christmas follows Labour Day, and it appears that she's correct. It's actually a series of four rapid impacts: Labour Day, Thanksgiving, Hallowe'en, and then Christmas; each one hitting faster than America can attack deserving Middle Eastern nations that need to be be bombed and annihilated into freedom and democracy!

Endless war is awesome!

But I digress...On a better note, my friend Billy Munnelly has just released his 2012 edition of Billy's Best Bottles - just in time for Christmas, or to celebrate the immanent attacks on Iran's nuclear programme, even though the Persians have not attacked anyone in the last 300 years.

Oops...there I go again...

Anyway: Despite the fact that Orwell was prescient and the world has gone mad, Billy has given us another reason to go on living, namely the best wines at the best prices. If you haven't purchased his fine book before, you need to go here and order it immediately. His method of choosing wine by mood rather than varietal, makes so much sense, you need to adopt the system, as I have. It seems the Common Man is catching on, and Billy's seminars are always sold-out at the Gourmet Food and Wine Show; something the deconstructionists and complicators need to take note of...This fabulous little book fits in your back pocket and will effortlessly guide you through the labyrinth of the Lick-Bo and safely bring you out the other side, with money in your wallet and wine that will perfectly match the way you feel. It's a real bargain too, so stock up on several copies. They make great hostess gifts or stocking stuffers for the winos on your list.

And while we're on the topic of books, check out Starlight Books in Newmarket. It's a nice Sunday afternoon jaunt from Toronto and well worth the trip. If you're still able to read anything other than texts or tweets, Starlight will have a book you'll love. It's well laid-out and there's a British Food shop in the plaza just behind it, so you can store up on Pontefract Cakes, tubes of Coleman's mustard and Worcestershire Sauce flavoured potato chips. Those who enjoy this sort of shop will find it to be just the sort of shop they enjoy.

Deacon Dr. Fresh
Awaiting the End of the World

The Deacon in Scotland!...Well...almost...

2011-11-04T20:20:00.038-04:00

Hahahaha!!!!

What a frickin' time I've just had! My head's just shrunken sufficiently to climb off the couch and write this blog as I listen to Canadian tenor, Peter McCutcheon singing Scotland the Brave.

Last weekend your Humble Deacon attended (as a competitor for Team Thurles) the World Bocce Championships at Allen's. Although we didn't actually win, we played so well that we would have won, if the other teams, most notably the team captained by one Jono Kuhling wasn't just a little bit better on the day in question...

Well today your Deacon was back at Allen's in response to an invite by Toronto's best-loved bon vivant, John Maxwell. John set up an amazing whisky event, by arranging lunch for 3 of us with Ian Millar, the Glenfiddich Global Brands Ambassador and Distiller, the other 2 attendees being Grano's Roberto Martello and Whisky Maestro Mark Bylok, from Spotlight Toronto. We began promptly at 12:30 with splashes of scotch (and yes I've forgotten which one) followed by flutes of McEwan's Scotch Ale, to prepare us for the incredible onslaught to follow. Now you need to understand; Although your Deacon is the World's Foremost Authority on the combination of wine and hand to hand combat, whisky is an unknown and unexplored territory. At least until today, in which I got the education of a lifetime...

We sat down for lunch as soon as Ian arrived, and it was served with the usual attentive perfection of Allen's remarkable wait staff. We began with a bottle of Grant's Best Procurable Scotch Whisky, circa late 1930's. Yes, my friends, it was over 70 years old! John Maxwell took it from his formidable personal collection, and Ian Millar ascertained the age from the style of the label and cracked it open. It was insanely good. Not being a Scotch drinker, I knew I was doomed. It was like taking your first drive in a Lamborghini Countach. You know damn well that every other car you drive, no matter how good, will be a let-down in one way or another. Then we got into lunch. We started with Roasted Root Vegetable Soup with South Asian Spices, paired with an 18 year old Glenfiddich, which was a flawless combination. Then it was on to Linguine with Lemon Zest, Chardonnay and Cream, served with a Jean-Pierre Colas 2009 Sauvignon Blanc Essence; probably the best SB I've ever had anywhere. Here's a winemaker with all the savvy in the world, who can make world-class wines when he's let loose. Bravo, Jean-Pierre, you've got the New Zealanders running scared with this magnificent white. Then it was the next course: Filet of Angus Beef Poached in Grant's Family Reserve Whisky with Turned Potatoes and Carrots, so tender you could cut it with a spoon. John gave us another magnificent VQA wine with this course; a Cabernet Merlot Misek Vineyard 2002 Malivoire. A warm, lush red, It turned out to be a perfect pairing again, and prepared us for more Glenfiddich from various years, and I was astounded to discover how different they all were; including the rare Snow Phoenix, and a $1,000.00 bottle from 1974. We ended with Whipped Cream, Toasted Oatmeal soaked in Glenfiddich 12 Year Old Whisky. Unbelievable. And all through this near-cosmic feast, Ian regaled us with fascinating whisky trivia and the amazing history of the Grant family and their remarkable brand.

Then it was on to coffee, served with a teaspoonful of Glenfiddich 12 year old and we retired to the bar for more whisky as we prepared for the trip home. Thank God none of us were driving. We ended with another dram of the 70 year old Grant's Best Procurable, and I bid farewell to my brothers in arms, and dragged my enormous head out the door of Allen's and out onto the hyper-reality of Danforth Avenue, having had possibly the best lunch of my life.

Here's my conclusion: Scotch is awesome! Especially Glenfiddich, and Ian Millar is the perfect spokesman - erudite, encyclopedic and engaging. And John Maxwell is still the Undefeated Greatest Host in the Effing Universe. The man is so gracious, generous and genuine, this city is not worthy of his magnificence.

Thanks for the invite, John. We love and appreciate you.

Deacon Dr. Fresh

Back to wearing a kilt

The Deacon's Back from the Emerald Isle!

2011-10-28T12:13:00.015-04:00

Hey Peckers!

I was going to write this posting earlier, since we returned from Ireland more than a month ago, but had to wait until now to fully gather my thoughts so I could let you all know that you missed out on a Once In A Lifetime trip.You simply do not have the schema to conceive of how incredible it all was, from Chef Patti's flawless and gorgeous meals,

to the mist over the green fields and the moon over Lisheen Castle; our home for 7 glorious nights of feasting, laughter, music, drinking and camaraderie.

And we did it all...Cork Market; lunch on the cliffs overlooking the Irish Sea; eating Cashel Blue cheese with the cheesemaker; Guinness and more Guinness; local pubs and traditional musicians; Jameson's Distillery; fabulous breakfasts; comfortable coach rides through the Irish countryside, with our driver, Tony; endless wine and wine tastings, a phenomenal Awards Banquet, seeing Mary Coughan live in Cashel; winning at the dog races (the best day of Chef Patti's life); Limerick contests;

Your Deacon reciting pseudo Shakespeare from the battlements above his 4 star suite; peat fires; hurling;

soccer on our 15 acres of castle lawn; late-night dance party; fashion contest with The Deaconess winning the Colleen Award; Alice and I victorious in the 2011 Lisheen Castle Turf Bocce Tournament;

laughing like lunatics with Ken and Nicky; cooking lessons with our Chef; Tipperary scarves; drinking Kilkenny in Kilkenny; cheese and bread and butter beyond belief; the recitation of The Bastard Poem; afternoon tea and then opera sung by gorgeous Emily from the balcony of the St. Anne mansion; gallons of cider; enormous dinners, wonderful conversations by the fire; nightly King and Queen events; endless battles with the ghost, who insisted on opening our doors when we were downstairs; the Knighting ceremony complete with sword, etc., etc., etc.

Here's a picture of Kato, Billy and Chef Patti:

It's astounding that the very trip that some of you said we wouldn't like, turned out to be not just a phenomenal vacation, but the very best week of our lives.

Thanks Billy and Kato! You are the consummate tour guides! Put us at the front of the line for the next one. Tell me when you need the deposit and I'll drop it on down to you...

Nobody does it better.

Deacon Dr. Fresh
Born English - Now Irish

OH THE ECSTASY!!!

2011-08-18T17:57:00.003-04:00

Greetings fellow head-bangers! I return today with news that is beyond wonderful. An event has transpired that is greater than the discovery of fire, and equal to the multiple thefts of Munch's The Scream. I am speaking of something more vast than the Harappan Indus Valley civilization ever aspired to be, and of greater didactic import than the Analects of Confucius. Yes, dear friends...something more brilliant than Sirius, more ingenius than the fake moon landings and more powerful than HAARP. Yes, I'm talking about my two favourite things in the world: Wine...and AC/DC! Naturally, those of you still caught between the vacuous pseudo-social concern of Bono and the pristine plastic package of Justin Bieber, will have difficulty ascertaining the particular impact of this news. Nevertheless, let's skip the usual rant and commence...

A few days back I got an email from the Hungarian 007 and my partner in crime, Zoltan Szabo. He alerted me to the arrival (in Australia at least) of 4 splendid new wines that bear the AC/DC name and Imprimatur. The significance of the amalgam of the Thunder From Down Under with Oz vino was not lost on Zoltan; who might just be the second foremost Acca Dacca fan on the planet. Here we have arguably, the greatest live rock band of all time, aligning with the formidable Australian wine industry to create a music and national product union that could only be equaled if hip-shaking Shakira put her name to Colombian cocaine.

Now I know there will be the compulsory gainsayers who will claim the Rolling Stones are "The Greatest Rock and Roll Band in the World". This leads to a very simple refutation: Count them. Back when there were 5 Stones, they were very good. But how and why has a 5 piece rock band morphed into a 12 piece orchestra? There are only 4 original members, which means 8 other people! No further questions, Your Honor.

So what are these 4 spectacular wines, that promise to rival the finest Burgundy, Bordeaux and Champagnes? Well...there's Highway to Hell Cabernet Sauvignon, You Shook Me All Night Long Moscato, Hells Bells Sauvignon Blanc, and the one that intrigues me most: Back in Black Shiraz. The plonk hails from Warburn Estate, and features an album cover shot on each label, as you can see in the picture.

Sadly, the super-premium wine is not available in Canada...yet...although
Zoltan is trying to get his capable Hungarian hands on a case...

I'll let you know what happens, but it seems like the rest of the wine world has finally caught up with your humble Deacon. I've been invoking AC/DC in this wine blog for 6 years and I've been vindicated at long last.

You heard me.

Deacon Dr. Fresh

Soon to be Ireland bound...

In Defense of Toronto...

2011-07-06T15:35:00.013-04:00

Greetings All and Sundry...

Once again, it falls upon me to drop the brigand persona to deal with a matter of sufficient import to warrant a more serious posting.

It's become de rigueur to lambast our fair city, particularly if one lives in BC; especially Vancouver, where it has nearly become a pathological art form. But rather than dignify their rancor with a line by line explicative response, I will instead stand in defense of Toronto the Good by stating the positives, because I love this city. I came here in 1957 as an immigrant from Britain, and although I've returned to the UK a dozen or more times, I've never regretted my late parents' decision to relocate us in downtown Canada. Permit me to elaborate...

Culture, anyone? Toronto has world class theatre, including it's own Fringe Festival, is home to The Canadian Opera Company, The Toronto Symphony, and numerous other concert, comedy, and cabaret venues. The best International artists and acts eventually wind up here. From AC/DC to Keith Jarrett, Yo Yo Ma to UFC, they all pause and perform within our city limits.

Add to that, our restaurants provide every conceivable type of food, our parklands are vast, our Islands welcoming, the bluffs breathtaking, and our transit system largely efficient and safe. Our airports provide easy access to both coasts as well as our neighbour to the south, and if you don't like flying, there's always VIA Rail.

We have great libraries, a phenomenal museum and, since the reno, an excellent art gallery too. Add to the list: Caribana, Gay Pride Day, Yonge Street, the Eaton Centre, Toronto Indy, the Annex, the Beach, the Maple Leafs, the Blue Jays, Raptors, etc. We are a diverse and tolerant city, with something for everyone, and by and large, live and let others live. Which brings me to a comparison...

A few weeks back, I was in San Antonio, the home of the Alamo, on business. I have visited Texas a few times and have always loved the warm, generous people and the massive steaks and breakfasts. San Antonio is a beautiful place. A river runs through the downtown core and creates a below street level promenade that's cool and gently lit in the evenings. There are minorities, of course, like my Algerian cab driver, who was thrilled that I understood his French, but the city primarily consists of two cultures: Texan and Mexican, who co-exist very happily. In fact, everyone in San Antonio seemed friendly, optimistic, and big-hearted; all that is best about America.

After the compulsory Alamo visit, to pay homage to my favourite knife-fighter Jim Bowie, I took a cab to the airport for my flight to DC and then home to Toronto. It was at the airport that I noticed something unusual...

I was seated in the waiting area with several hundred other travelers, when a Middle Eastern couple arrived, along with their three children. They were obviously well to do, and the kids, ranged from a tiny little girl with large dark eyes, to a boy of about 5, all the way up to the eldest, who was another boy of about 8 or 9 years of age. The kids were happy and well-behaved, and obviously enjoying the journey. The parents were what I call semi-Westernized. The father wore shorts and a ball cap and the mother wore a long robe with a beautiful, multi-coloured, striped scarf around her head. They were a good looking family, and I smiled back as the little girl smiled at me. I always smile at people, especially children, because with buzzed hair, ear-rings and 10 tattoos, I can sometimes resemble an older skinhead. Still smiling, I glanced around at the other passengers in the lounge, and I noticed that none of them would look at the Middle Eastern family. Instead they looked past them or through them, as though they were invisible. It wasn't as though the family was disliked or mistrusted as terrorists. Instead they were completely dehumanized; being treated as though they didn't even exist. It sickened and horrified me.

I plugged in my iPod and listened to Glenn Gould and when I looked up again, the parents smiled at me, and I assumed it was because I looked at them instead of through them, but it wasn't until we boarded the plane that I realized why they had connected with me from 10 feet away. Over the next half hour, the lounge filled up with more and more passengers, and the family became more and more dehumanized. It was as though everyone in the airport had been trained to ignore them.

Eventually they called the flight to Washington DC, and after the Continental Gold Club travelers had boarded, I grabbed my shoulder bag and went through the gate. I had to pass through Business Class to reach my seat, and I saw the family again, as we stopped in the aisle to permit someone to access the overhead bin. I was standing next to the father and he smiled up at me again, as did his wife, who was seated behind him. She gestured to her wrist and then pointed to my arm, and it became clear. There, emblazoned on my left forearm in large, black, in your face Arabic script, was one of my favourite tattoos.

"Hurriah" she said.

Yes, I responded. Hurriah. Freedom.

"Thank you" she said. "Thank you for that..."

No problem. No problem at all.

My wife, who is wiser than me by light-years has a wonderful rule to live by:

I will not fear, and I will not hate. Bravo, my love. Neither will I.

Add to that: I will not ignore or dehumanize.

Anyone.

And that brings us back to Toronto: the greatest multi-cultural city on earth. We are hundreds of nationalities and ethnic groups; Italian, Guyanese, Mohawk, Swedish, Thai, Ecuadorian, Persian, and just about everything else. We interact, buy, sell, rub shoulders in the subway, play music and cook for each other. We really are The World.

And I still love it here.

Deacon Dr. Fresh

Real Men Wear Pink!

2011-06-25T11:58:00.070-04:00

I have survived. There is nothing to say, beyond I have survived the greatest overwhelm of hospitality that any wine writer has ever had to endure in the history of the planet. Yes, my dear friends, despite the concerted and stalwart attempts of Billy Munnelly, John Maxwell and the sterling staff of Allen's to kill your humble Deacon with crushing kindness, exceptional ambiance, fantastic friends, stalwart service, wonderful wine and fabulous food, I have lived to tell the tale...and what a tale it is, dear friends, worthy of the spiritual offspring of Wordsworth, Chaucer and Johnson, which I am.

Men in Pink is an annual celebration of the best VQA rosé wine Ontario winemakers have to offer. Co-chaired by bon vivants His Grace Billy Munnelly (a perennial favourite of the Deacon) and Toronto's reigning Hospitality King, His Excellency John Maxwell; I had turned down two previous invitations due to pressing work demands. Now that the Second Great Depression has arrived full Force 10 (despite near-universal denial and the printing of untold trillions of dollars in quantitative easing) at least I have the time to go to a few more events before the sky falls completely, the Aliens arrive, or the Mayans prove to be correct. Well this time, I got to go, and arrived at Allen's on Wednesday at 1:10, which was unfashionably early for a 1PM event. To my shock and surprise, the place was already rocking; many attendees had apparently arrived on Sunday and had been drinking ever since. We were all decked-out in full regalia, our entry tickets consisting of all things pink; shirts, ties, hats and in at least one case, a pink sports jacket. I was immediately greeted by His Worship, Tony Aspler, resplendent in trendy new glasses which were not rose-coloured, although Billy's were; an enormous pair in fact, that Sir Elton John (not in attendance) would have been proud of. I quickly connected with all the old boys, including Don Len Pennacetti, Count Rob Power, Prince Jono Kuhling, Marquis Jean-Pierre Colas, Baron Charles Baker, His Holiness, Pope Paul de Campo the Fifteenth, and about 40 others.

What an event! I nearly did a Michael Henchard and almost auctioned off the Deaconess to John Maxwell for 5 guineas...The rosé - about 20 types by my reckoning - flowed like serum and lymph from a tropical ulcer, and there were some amazing ones, but I quickly gave up all hope of documenting them, once Tony Aspler bought me a pint of Spearhead, the Gewurtztraminer of beer. I'm not kidding! Things became a bit vague after that, but we were suddenly all seated for a full lunch at a long table, decked with bottled water and about another 40 bottles of rosé. We were initially going to have light appetizers in the courtyard, but the weather didn't co-operate, and John Maxwell and his stellar staff made a seamless transition to a sit-down lunch for 45, including chilled cucumber soup with radishes, followed by salmon, then tenderloin of beef and a gorgeous baked apple dessert. You've gotta love Allen's, as did the other Toronto Uberhost, Don Roberto Martello, the proprietor of Grano, looking mega-lurch with a tie the colour of a sockeye salmon.

I sat near Billy and Tony, in my usual seat on the end, just in case we came under terrorist attack and I had to rescue everyone and have a huge budget film made about it. To my right was Baron Rodney of Rodney's Oysters fame, and he regaled us with a wonderful story of a professional oyster shucker who shucked too fast and managed to sever his glans. Later, seats were shifted and I got to hang out with Rory Gallagher, the amazing dead guitarist, now reincarnated as Manager of Mildred's Temple Kitchen.

At the end of the day, John Maxwell poured me a flute of Guinness, and ran outside with me as the Deaconess arrived in the pink Bentley. What a day among the Royalty of wine!

So here's your call to action:

We've got some real heavy-hitters in the Ontario food and wine industry and it's getting better all the time. Maybe you didn't get an invite to this amazing event, but you can still be involved and show your support. You can buy Billy's iPod app and Tony's books, and drink a few dozen bottles of prime VQA rosé. Visit the dozens of great wineries in Niagara, Lake Erie North Shore, and Prince Edward County, come back and shuck oysters with Rodney, grab gnocchi at Grano, and end up at Allen's for a late supper and a pint of Spearhead under John Maxwell's mantle of hospitality.

You'll thank me...

Deacon Dr. Fresh

Because real men do wear pink...

wine

Fitness, Creekside, Chablis, and the Deacon in Ireland!

2011-06-20T13:11:00.010-04:00

Greetings Boozophiles, fanz and friends, homeys and homettes. Your Deacon lubs you! Here's the latest from your Humble Deacon, but first the unedited stream of consciousness rant:

All the rest of you glassy-eyed, under the table texting vaccine addicts can gargle my knotted pseudo-Irish blackthorn shillelagh!

And now the fitness update: Many of you are wondering if your Humble Deacon will cut enough weight to make the Canada Day deadline for the goal of 160 lbs. Well, I'm pleased to announce, your Deacon will make the deadline! Back in April I was firmly ensconced in Fat Bastard Land, carrying almost 183 lbs on my 5' 10" frame. As of this AM, I'm down to 162.2 lbs, which means I have lost over 20 lbs and have only another 2.2 to go in about 12 days, which should be a cinch. So much for you decryers and negative nay-sayers who said it couldn't be done. You might want to examine your own mid-line rolls and write me an apology before your immanent heart attack makes it impossible for you to send me a lavishly simpering and sycophantic email.

In other news: I had the good fortune to attend an amazing Creekside wine and oyster event in the Distillery District a couple of weeks back. Winemaker Rob and his gunslinger/bodyguard Matt kept a wide variety of eksepshunal wines flowing with cheese and nearly unlimited oysters. Creekside is another one of those wineries, along with Henry of Pelham, Stratus and Penninsula Ridge, that I really Respect. A couple of years back I was saying that Shiraz wouldn't do well in Niagara as it needs lots of sun and very little snow and ice. Creekside proved me wrong and made a New World style Shiraz that blew everyone's brains out. Now they're calling it Syrah and are creating a Rhone style wine that's as awesome as a 357 Magnum in a fist fight. Creekside also produces the top tier Wayne Gretsky wines that can skate across your palate like old number 99 himself. If you haven't checked out Creekside lately, buy a case or two. Their Sauvignon Blanc is excellent too, as were all the whites I tried. Thanks for the invite, Creekside! You're makin' some lurch vino.

Then the laughs continued with a visit to the Fine Wine Reserve, where your Deacon is a perennial visitor when we judge the Canadian Ice Wine offerings each spring. I always plan on storing my wine there, but always drink it on the way over. I took the Deaconess with me for a Chablis tasting that was a rare wine treat. Artisanal Wine Imports put on the event and we got to sample some amazing steely and austere Droin Chablis, including 3 Premier Crus and a Grand Cru. For those of you who are still drinking nothing but Malbec, I'll explain further: Chablis is made from the Chardonnay grape in the North part of France. It grows in soil replete with oyster shells, which not surprisingly, makes it a perfect accompaniment for our little half-shell friends. True, you'll pay a premium price; $68.95 for the Grand Cru, but this is a wine that will age spectacularly for another 10 or 15 years. So limit your purchase to a case and then send a bottle or two to your Deacon, as an appropriate thanks for the heads-up...

Finally, let's talk about travel...

My homeboy and mentor, Billy Munnelly is actually running a wine tour of Ireland where you get to spend a week in Lisheen Castle! Yes, an actual castle with our own awesome chef! There'll be day trips, lunch on the coast and evenings in Irish pubs, etc., etc., all delivered with flawless style by Billy and Kato.

Will Billy Munnelly be providing wine?

Does Rose Kennedy have a black dress?

And your Deacon's going! That's right, me and the Deaconess are already booked on the second week (September 12th to 20th). Check out the website for this lurchest of lurch trips. If you've ever wanted to go to Ireland - and who hasn't? - there's no better way than with Billy! Act fast, because the tour's filling up now. There are two possible weeks but each one is limited to 13 people. Yes, 13 people...in a haunted castle! How cool is that? It's an Agatha Bastard Christie novel in the making, and you get to hang with Billy and the Deacon! Book it now, crackers! And don't y'all worry about no ghost. I routinely punch out anyone wearing a white sheet...

See y'all in Ireland.

Stay lurch

Deacon Dr. Fresh

Ireland Bound

Welterweight, the Speck brothers, and a wine the Deacon loves...to avoid!

2011-05-22T13:13:00.006-04:00

Greetings Moisture Missiles! Yes, it's happening...your humble Deacon is losing pork-fat and is currently down 14 lbs to a sensible 169, which all you UFC fans know, is Welterweight again. Once I hit 160 or lower, I'll be posting the pictorial evidence on this blog, which I know gives y'all something to look forward to...But before I get into the meat of this posting, let's jointly enjoy our usual stream of consciousness rant:

Homeys and Homettes, your Deacon lubs you! But the rest of you para-tetramitus infected Colour Vassals (including the "woman" who walked in front of my car on Gervais Drive the other day because she (like many of you) was thumbing an electronic device and unaware that I could have done a punitive and illustrative drive-by shooting, to raise social awareness of the sheer number of semi-suicidal electronically addicted shidiots out there) I shout a warm and resounding Bite it...Bite it now...Bite it well!

And so it all commences...and as I dip virtual quill to quasi-inkwell, I assuage my feverish brain with the dulcet tones of The Sixteen as the micro-cathedral that is Fresh Manor, resonates to its very triforia and clerestory with the finest polyphony that William Byrd and Orlando Gibbons ever put to parchment...

But let's talk about wine...I recently had a dismal experience with Full Press Cabernet Sauvignon, despite its pleasantly proletariat inspired label that was almost Luddite in its imagery. I don't like to slag any wine that actually contains alcohol, but I found this blend of International and Canadian wines to be structureless and disappointing. I poured it out rather than return it. Let's just say it provides all the proof anyone ever needs to stick with VQA wines, rather than experimenting with some of these jank rooster-juice variants. To be fair, I haven't tried their other wines, but based on their Cab Sauv, I'm not likely to.

But fortunately, the Speck brothers rescued me. As anyone who is able to read knows, your humble Deacon is a great fan of Henry of Pelham wines. I think they do the best effing Baco Noir on the planet, and produce consistently flavourful and quality wines. Anyway, after their success with Sibling Rivalry (which I still gotta write up) the Specks have gone on to create two new offerings: White House and Red House. Now anyone who reads the excellent print magazine, City Bites, put out by Dick "Richard" Snyder, knows your Deacon has "issues" and "concerns" not to mention "profound irritation" at the whole house wine thing. But I'm talking about something else entirely here. The Specks have put out a couple of real winners that are gonna jump off the shelves. The Deaconess and I had a bottle of the Red House with an organic steak a few nights back. I must say, the edgy label really caught my eye, and at first I thought it was referring to the Red Hat House at Angola Prison where they fry recidivists in the electric chair, which seemed an unusual choice for a VQA wine...

But I digress...The wine was really, really lurch. The best word I can use to describe it is approachable. It's a very friendly wine, and neither wiped out the steak with too much fruity sweetness, nor disappeared under the spices I used. The Specks have clearly designed a wine you can grab and go, whether to a barbecue or something a little more regal, and your friends and family will love it. They've created a wine you shouldn't think about too much. It's not a Premier Cru Bordeaux, but it doesn't pretend to be. Made from real Ontario Shiraz and Cab Sauv, it's a good, solid everyday wine, and it's a bargain at $12.95! Grab a bottle or two and tell me I'm wrong.

So last night I was cooking Angus sliders and Kofta and decided to try the White House before dinner. Well surprise, surprise, surprise! It was just as good as the red. From the first sip, the Deaconess raised her eyebrows and said "I really like this!" I concurred. It's a Riesling-Pinot Grigio blend that hits all the right notes; both refreshing and peachy and very, very drinkable. We finished the bottle before the food arrived. You can serve this delicious wine before dinner or on the patio on a warm afternoon, because its 12% alcohol won't knock you out in the heat. Also priced at $12.95 a bottle, you can grab a case of this ambrosia without breaking the bank, and if you show up with a bottle of Red House and White House at a Friend's House, you'll be the hit of the evening.

Kudos to the Speck brothers. You never let us down.

Deacon Dr. Fresh

The Viscount of VQA

The Deacon Throws Down the Gauntlet...

2011-04-13T13:32:00.005-04:00

A subtle hello on this rainy day...I am here for you...that's right...yes dear friends...
Some of you more glannative and lurch of my homeys will recognize the (now demolished) burger joint in the picture. It is of course, the beloved Zingburger, which graced the West side of Victoria Park Avenue between Lawrence and Eglinton, for many wonderful years. As a purveyor of late-night fat, grease and lipids, the Zingburger had few equals, and was in fact, the early AM residence of your humble Deacon, who actually dwelt directly across the street from said restaurant, during his formative years. But before I explain the reason for its reappearance on my blog, let me provide the usual blessed rant to the morons...

To all you slack-jawed troglodytes and linseed sniffing de-educationalistic spine-dogs, jack waggons and puddle wallowers, I, the rightful King of Mars order you to accept this salute:

Toss my caber!

OK, and now on to less cathartic matters...

Somehow, your svelte, Welterweight Deacon has become a Fat Bastard. I know it's hard to believe, but it's true. Back when I was a mere Apprentice Deacon, I could "dine" at the Zingburger and stuff my kilt with burgers, fries, onion rings, etc., with nary an ounce gained, but such are the blessings of youth. Somehow, this has all changed, and I have managed to blow up to a nasty and blimpular 182.6 lbs on my 5 foot 10 inch frame., which totally sux the rich red rocket. Action is clearly required, and I'm axing you to get onboard with me, if you're in the same ship. There's still time to wow the babes this summer, but we've got to act fast. I've got to get back under 170 lbs and be a Welterweight again, or I'm in danger of being defeated in a mugging by as few as 9 or 10 young thugs, and that just ain't right.

Now there are a few options available:

The Mr. Clean Diet: All you do is drink a fruitjuice glass full of Mr. Clean before every meal. Rough on the gut, but very, very effective. You can lose up to 30 lbs. per day on this simple diet, but it's so aggressive, it can be fatal, and should only be attempted under a physician's observation.

The Alphabet Diet: Very creative. On day 1 you can eat anything that begins with A. On day 2, B, etc. It has some disadvantages though. On day 16 you're eating pie, pizza, potato chips, popcorn, peanuts, drinking pop, etc., which tends to pack on the pounds and depress you. On the other hand, when you reach day 24, you can only eat Xanax, which will help ease your depression, and xylophones and x-ray machines, which will tend to quickly drop the weight again.

But personally, I'm checkin' out the 4 Hour Body Diet by Timothy Ferriss, because it's worked really well for a number of my friends. It's pretty easy to follow, and you not only get to binge on it, you have to binge, which is awesome! You literally get to eat whatever the F you want, one day per week in unlimited quantity. Now tell me, isn't that better than salad and tiny portions? Here's what I just had for lunch, and it's not even a binge day. (Note that all foods are organic and purchased at either The Big Carrot or Fresh From the Farm):

2 sausages (you heard me, sausages!)
huge mound of refried beans
2 slices of turkey
big spoonful of guacamole
big spoonful of chunky salsa
pea shoot sprouts
tomatoes
1 cup of ginger tea

And I'm losing weight, peckahs! I'm actually losing weight. The funny thing about this way of eating, is if you aren't losing weight...you probably aren't eating enough. I'm not kidding. The Deaconess, naturally, is totally skeptical, but she won't be, once the mega-babes are ogling your humble Deacon's lean and mean frame. So although I don't have the intestines to post a hideous before picture online, I will post an after picture in my best pair of AC/DC boxers, which gives you all something to look forward to with baited breath.

So who's onboard the Black Freighter with me? Who will join me under this black flag? Who will email me or post on this blog and say:

"Yes Deacon! I'm with you! I'm sick of being a Fat Bastard too, and I'm going to change in time for summer!"

Let me hear from you dirigibles...I'll post the best responses.

deaconfresh(at)rogers.com

(Oh, and this sentence contains the mandatory wine reference.)

Deacon Dr. Fresh

Soon to be leaner and meaner than most of you

Grano, Billy, Beppi and the Usual Suspects...

2011-03-29T13:58:00.007-04:00

Greetings Children of the Vine! Yes, I'm actually posting again!!! Rejoice!!!
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! (Gales of hysterical laughter)

And now the compulsory rant, right off the top of my head: Every single one of you colour vassals and rotisserie pouches can sit gaping in the gapery at the wit, wisdom and wicked humour, you will never EVER understand! It takes profound schema and real intelligence to write something this incredibly stupid. OK...I'm listening to Immortal Technique for inspiration and just throwin' it down and keepin' it real! In the words of Richard Feynman:

"It's all about the field, muhfuh!"

BTW...Isn't it great that there's no inflation? I heard it on the radio the other day, so it must be true, and I am thrilled that prices for gas, electricity and food are not going up! We just think they are...Looks like a great time for another distracting war on foreign soil...

But I digress.

OK, lots to cover here. Last week I was at Grano for another lurch Billy and Kato event, in support and sellebrashon of their new wine app, which I wrote up last update. The Deaconess and I attended with Don Brutus and Kathryn the Great, and enjoyed host Roberto's usual stellar hospitality. We sampled Prosecco and 6 other wines, served up with fabulous Italian appetizers by Grano's friendly and efficient staff. A great time was had by all...which leads me to give you a heads-up:

Look for my homey Beppi Crossariol who's going to be doing an event at Grano on May 10th, entitled Italy Sends it's Best! This promises to be really lurch, because Beppi knows his stuff and Italy has a lot to offer. As many of you peckahs know, your humble Deacon is a huge fan of the Italian potable, which is probably ground zero for truly great rustic wines that bring honest and simple food to life. Contact Grano for more info. Your Deacon may just see you there, if I'm not away teachin' Jiu Jitsu or neck-crankin' some antivinophilic moron.

A couple of dayz ago, I dropped by the Fine Wine Reserve on King Street West to see my boyz, including the Usual Suspects: Tony Aspler, Canada's Dean of Wine; Michael "Power Glans" Pincus, who was his usual irreverent and hilarious self; Konrad Ejbich (the World's foremost expert on Single Finger Raynaud's Syndrome); Zoltan "The Transylvanian Terror" Szabo, Dick "Richard" Snyder, etc., etc., etc. We all gathered to evaluate the current crop of Ontario Ice Wine and decide the Gold, Silver and Bronze medalists. Sadie Darby did her usual fabulous job of looking after the food and refreshments while we all slurped, expectorated ("spit" for all you Keswickians), and otherwise put our seals of approval or disapproval on the World's Greatest Dessert Wines. What was interesting, was how on side we all were. In almost every case, we only differed by a couple of points (out of a possible 100), and we ALL nailed the Gold Medalist in double blind tastings, where neither the pourers nor the drinkers knew what the wines were. I can't tell you what the medalists are, but the Gold Medal Winner is one helluva great wine, and I'll be picking up a case of it as soon as it's announced, unless of course, the winery to be revealed sends a case to my door... This wine's balanced and got EVERYTHING it's supposed to have. Watch for it. More to follow...

A note about the Fine Wine Reserve. This is a truly amazing cellar. If you've got super-lurch wines, this is where to keep it. You need an electronic pass, a retinal scan, and have to provide DNA epidermal scrapings just to open the washroom door! It's awesome, and exactly like Fort Knox, except it isn't empty...

That's all for now. BTW...due to certain Global Events, Libyan and Japanese wine will be unavailable until further notice...

Deacon Dr. Fresh

Accurately evaluating the globe while it's still here...

The Deacon Attends the 2011 Wine and Cheese Show!

2011-03-18T18:55:00.002-04:00


Why am I the only one who truly understands this event?

Just got in from the 2011 Wine and Cheese Show, and you need to buy a ticket and get out there ASAP. The Deaconess and I always crash the event and I can say without fear of hyperbole, this was 60 trillion times better than ever! I always get there early, and dive into the food with both feet, and today was no exsepshun! I plowed the Black Freighter into the side of Hall 5 of the International Centre, and hit the ground running and didn't stop for about 3 hours of high-end engorgement, including Dim Sum, oysters, veal, and tons of cheese and gallons of beer and wine, including my perennial faves, Rickard's White, and Creemore Pilsner. What made our visit better than anyone else's, was the fact that we were prepared...and I aint talkin' about condoms! We showed up with recently purchased solid maple glass holders with a built-in table that you can walk around with and eat and drink effortlessly, while freeing up a hand to flip the bird at any Keswickians you see. The Deaconess bought these little numbers at Crate and Barrel for about 10 bucks each. They're really lurch, cause you can hold about a thousand drink tickets and some serviettes against the bottom and still maneuver around without spilling anything. At least 20 people approached us and asked "Where did you get those? They're awesome!" I told them that they were supposed to get one free when they came in and sent them to the door, causing untold hilarity and amusing disappointment all round. This was a really nicely put together event and the organizers need to be commended, and if you like wine, cheese, or both, you'll think you've died and taken the last Go Train to Elysian Fields.

High points include seeing the ever-hot Ange Aiello of iYellow Wine Club and iYellow Wine School, who was getting ready to present one of her popular seminars, and blond mega-babe, Sue-Ann Staff, who's still recovering from nearly two dozen bee stings...(ahem). I guess it was a matter of catastrophic colony collapse... BTW...Sue-Ann has her own winery now, and it's about effing time! You can find this lurch and ever perky winemaker at Sue-Ann Staff Estate Winery, in Jordan. Your Deacon and Deaconess lub you and wish you well.

On other notes, I loved the Cabernet Franc I sampled from Viewpointe Estate Winery. It was very friendly and approachable and provided a soft mouthful of berry flavours; a very lively little wine that was drinkable without food. Imagine Justin Bieber if he was female and had talent. Viewpointe is another Lake Erie North Shore winery, like Colio, and I expect more great drinkables from them in the future. I think they can actually be huge...all it will take is a briefcase full of cash, left on the foredeck of the Black Freighter on a moonless night. You heard me.

Fielding had their usual delicious Pinot Gris, which is still my favourite Gris or Grigio ever, espeshully since much wine from this grape becomes jank and frivolous...sort of a Merlot Blanc. Make sure you check it out. Also noteworthy was Barefoot Bubbly. Another Pinot Gris but with fizz. For 12 bucks and change it was well worth the coin.

We also bought really cool flying monkey t-shirts from Flying Monkey Craft Brewery. Check them out here.

All in all, a great afternoon. There's still time to attend, so get your info here. Kudos to the organizers and exhibitors. See you all next year, and make sure you buy one of those little trays.

Deacon Dr. Fresh

Samuel Johnson and Hunter S. Thompson rolled into one

Kudos to Billy Munnelly!

2011-03-10T15:30:00.002-05:00

Greetings All and Sundry!

Always glad to Gonzofy your days, spreading joy, good cheer and brilliance, while simultaneously ("at the same time" for all you Skidoo Surfers in Keswick) ...I digress...

...while simultaneously stupefying all of you gluten-headed inhabitants of the bozone. And now the full-bore compulsory stream of consciousness rant:

And a special bodkin jab at all you television entranced Justin Bieber fanz, with your Mr. Sulu flashing Bluetooth brain cancer ear-plugs, and your "routine" colonoscopies, and your kids with names like Detrius, Merlot, Champion, and Effluvia...

Mangez my Montreal smoked meat!!!

Now to business...For those of you who live in the world of humans and conversations instead of pixels and texts, there's an important bit of breaking news: My homie and mentor galore, His Lurchness, Billy Munnelly just got a major award, and no, it's not a lamp shaped like a woman's leg...

At a recent VQA Awards Ceremony, known as Cuvee, Billy was presented with a Lifetime Achievement Award, and nobody deserves it more. Here's just a portion of what Stratus' Uber-Cool Charles Baker said:

"Billy has for decades understood the true terroir of Ontario vineyards. He has championed authentic, local, transparent, wines. There is another side to him that many of us in the business are grateful to him for – he includes people in his terroir - the winemakers, grape growers, owners, retail staff and yes even that lowliest of low – the sales rep all fit into his world. There are many of us in this room who feel that our careers are richer and more authentic because of his dedication to the vine."

Amen to that, Chuck!

And be sure to check out Billy's Best Bottles iPod app, as seen in the picture, onsale at the iTunes store. For less than three bucks, you'll get a personal wine adviser and cut through all the crap and deconstructionist bull pizzle. I bought it, and am damn glad I did!

Way to go, Billy!

Deacon Dr. Fresh

Supporting the Supporters of VQA Wine

Rest in Peace - Larry Paterson

2010-12-01T15:45:00.001-05:00

It is a sad day indeed for anyone who loves the world of wine, and the wonderful characters who inhabit it. Larry Paterson was such a character. Known as the Little Fat Wino, Larry described himself as: "Married with Children, hatched in June 1953, Retired. Professionally obnoxious, world-class conceited know-it-all and a bore of no mean accomplishment."

Larry succumbed to lung disease a couple of days ago, and will be greatly missed. A natural organizer, Larry spent 30 years working for the LCBO, and endless hours, tirelessly promoting small Ontario wineries, and fearlessly opposing wasteful and feckless bureaucracies.

I met him for the first time at the Ontario Wine Awards, when I emceed a few years back. We spent hours talking with Colio's Doug Beatty, and passed a very pleasant evening together. He was knowledgeable about all aspects of wine, and a hell of a nice guy. I'm sorry I didn't get to know him better.

Funeral for Larry will be at Comstock Funeral Home, at 356 Rubidge Stree, Peterborough. (705) 745-4683

Visitation will take place on Saturday, December 4th, 2010 from 2:00 PM to 4:00 PM, and 7:00 PM to 9:00 PM.
Funeral services will be held in the chapel at 2:00 PM on Sunday, December 5th, 2010.

Respectfully,

Deacon Dr. Fresh

Toronto Rocks for Frank Soda!

2010-11-29T16:14:00.110-05:00

The Soda Fountain of Canadian Rock

Last night was one of the awesomest, lurchest nights in Canadian Rock Music History. My previous posting spoke of the (then) upcoming benefit concert for Vancouver Guitar Hero, Frank Soda. What follows is a review of the event...

The fanz began arriving long before the doors opened, even though it was a chilly Toronto night. They came from everywhere; some from as far as Vancouver, to be part of what would become Rock Legend. The emcee was my homey, Dr. Mike Mandel, who I must say, did a great job keeping things moving and introing and extroing the performers. The eponymous band Scarpelli hit the stage running, at just after 7 PM, and proceeded to blow the doors off and rip the ceiling down in some first rate power rock, including Goddo standards and AC/DC's Highway to Hell. You really have to see father and son guitar wizards, Gino and Gene Scarpelli, to really appreciate their energy. The pair functioned as a precision unit; a relaxed Gino looking like a confident gunslinger with backup support fire provided by his very talented offspring. You must check out Scarpelli when they're in your area. I love these guys!

The Antlers with former Max Webster musicians, Mike Tilka and Terry Watkinson took to the stage; Watkinson having traveled from Winnipeg to play keyboards...and yes, they were amazing too. And so the evening continued, with a couple of hundred incredibly pumped and appreciative fanz of Canadian music at its very best. To immortalize the evening, a white Yamaha electric guitar was provided and all the musicians signed it, and so had Burton Cummings, April Wine's Myles Goodwin and Brian Greenway. Tickets sold for $10.00 each, and fanz gobbled them up to try to win a piece of Rock and Roll treasure - more about the guitar later...

The room was rockin' in overdrive, and so Coney Hatch threw gasoline on the fire. I bought their music on iTunes as soon as I got home. It went on and on and on, with some of the best players in the nation, gathered to help a dear friend offset his medical bills. I could wax on and on about the talent that gathered and played last night. Michael White, who sang Led Zeppelin like Robert Plant, Rockizoid and the Carl Dixon Band, to name just a few. The Carpet Frogs were one of my absolute favourites, who opened with Deep Purple's Hush, and then launched into an incredible rendering of Hey Jude; front-man and vocalist, Nick Sinopoli is an amazingly talented man, and the Frogs played their usual flawless set.

At 11 PM, Frank Soda walked out, which was amazing, since his surgery was only a few days back, and the audience rushed the stage. Too weak to play, he was clearly touched by the outpouring of affection and respect from so many people. He thanked everyone and then drew the winning ticket for the guitar, which was now covered with the signatures of Canada's Finest. It all went weird at that point, because somehow, Mike Mandel had the winning ticket and walked away with the Holy Grail Guitar. I know he's a mentalist, but can't for the life of me figure out how he did it, since he wasn't even onstage when Frank drew the winning number, and Mandel's friend, Kevin Pumphrey, was holding onto his ticket for him - "just in case it wins". Even weirder, Mandel had earlier commented from the stage "the only thing that will make this evening better is when I go home with that guitar!"

(Cue Twilight Zone theme music) Very strange...

All in all, the best evening that any rock fan could ever want. Kudos to the Rock Pile for making it possible by providing a fantastic venue. Standing ovation to organizers Tessa Kimmel and Nick Sinopoli for working like lunatics to make it all happen. Many thanks to Coll Sound, and the fine musicians who unselfishly devoted their time and ability in support of a great friend.

And so, with apologies to Shakespeare, I must paraphrase Henry V:

In years to come when this night is spoken of, we shall say, I was there with Frank and Tilka and Gino and Tessa and Nick! And gentlemen in Toronto then asleep, shall reckon themselves accursed they were not there, and count their manhoods cheap when this night is mentioned!

Peace and Love

Deacon Dr. Fresh

Still wondering how Mandel got that guitar...

Frank Soda Benefit Concert - Sunday November 28th

2010-11-20T14:16:00.016-05:00


Frank with Dr. Mike Mandel and Max Webster's Mike Tilka

I think it's interesting that for a country with a fairly small population, Canada has produced a number of excellent female vocalists, including Sarah McLachlan, Alanis Morissette, Celine Dion, Avril Lavigne, Joni Mitchell, Shania Twain, Loreena McKennitt, etc., etc., etc.

What is not generally known though, is that our typically self-effacing country has also been a proving ground for some of the world's top guitarists. One doesn't have to think very hard to come up with names like Kim Mitchell, Alex Lifeson, Frank Marino, and the late-great Jeff Healey, to name just a few. And to those of us who survived the '60s and '70s, other Guitar Heroes come to mind, like Domenic Troiano, Paul Naumann, Gino Scarpelli and of course, the legendary Frank Soda.

I first saw the diminutive electric guitar wizard at the Gasworks on Yonge Street, back in the mid 1970's, and was blown away by his playing. I'm a blues hacker myself, and although I own some great equipment, including a hand-made Gibson SG, signed and played by AC/DC's Angus Young, I make no pretense to being a musician. I remember watching Frank's incendiary blues playing and thinking that I'd give my left hand to be able to play like that. His band, The Imps, went on to record In the Tube; a concert (not surprisingly) at the Piccadilly Tube, a very cool night spot that resided where the Eaton Centre is now. Frank was into some really interesting rock theatre, including a wearing a television on his head that exploded at the end of TV People, a perennial favourite, as long as you weren't too close...

Here's a YouTube audio link to Break the Ice, a song from that concert, so you can get a feel for this amazing band, with Frank's blistering guitar and vocals. Crank up your volume and come back to read the rest of this, after you...

Click Here

Well now for the sad news...Frank is quite sick and has come to Toronto for treatment that he can't get in his native Vancouver. A bunch of his friends and fans have organized a benefit concert to help him out and it's taking place at the Rockpile on Sunday the 28th of November, which is only a week away. Please tell your friends and all the old rockers you know. Some very talented musicians have stepped up to the plate to help out, and it's going to be a blast. Here are the details:

THE ROCKPILE
5555A DUNDAS STREET WEST, ETOBICOKE
(416)504-6699

Doors open at 6PM, show begins at 7:00. Tickets are only $10.00 each.

Featuring performances by:

CONEY HATCH

WILD "T"

SCARPELLI

THE ANTLERS W/MIKE TILKA & TERRY WATKINSON

ROCKIZOID W/DENNIS DEMARCHI

RUSSELL "DWARF" GRAHAM

MICHAEL WHITE

THE HINGES

& MORE....

The host band is the CARPET FROGS and they alone are worth 3 times the admission price. My homey, Dr. Mike Mandel will be emceeing the event. Come out and support Frank Soda, one of the few genuinely nice people left in the world.

Deacon Dr. Fresh

Supporting Canada's Guitar Heroes

Re-Effing-Joyce! Your Deacon is Alive and Well!

2010-11-16T15:07:00.004-05:00

Bite me crank!

You have no idea how great it feels to be back. Yes, back, my friends and tireless fans. After over a year of ceaseless begging and whining from you leaderless children, it has happened at long last: A suitcase of money changed hands down by Cherry Beach on a moonless night, and I have re-emerged to grace you all with my arcane insights, rich ramblings and wit-infused wisdom. I attempted to slip away into obscurity, but it was not to be...

And so...without further ado, it's incumbent upon me to begin with the usual well-loved rant:

Warm and well-considered Captainly regards to my crew of buccaneers, scallywags, brigands, hussies and dogsbodies. Your Deacon loves you.

...and to the rest of you diametrically distraught vermifuge swallowing, vile-prepuced, flu shot addicts:

Bite my entire staff!

...and so it all begins again...

Let me start by stating for the record that the moronic imbecile who let his cell phone ring at the Stephan Moccio concert at the Jane Mallett Theatre should be publicly flayed. And the inconsiderate idiot at The Year of Magical Thinking, who dropped his cell phone and then let it vibrate all over the floor and somehow then managed to complete the process of icing the fool-cake, by loudly slamming his keys on the hardwood floor, needs at least 30 years in the electric chair. What is it with these bastards that despite clear requests from theatre managers, they just can't shut the damn things off for 90 minutes? I have a solution though: Every theatre patron should be issued with high-power squirt guns loaded with tomcat urine. If your phone rings, we hose you down, it's that simple.

In other news, your Deacon and Deaconess will be making a rare appearance at the Gourmet Food and Wine Expo at the Metro Toronto Convention Centre, later this week. I'll be reconnecting with my homeys and writing it all up within a few days. Watch for it...

Also, send in your email questions! Your Deacon needs to hear from you, and if I get enough, I'll write up a Deacon Male Bag ASAP.

That's all for now...and as we say on Mars:

Vootie

Deacon Dr. Fresh

Back like a boomerang

Recession Reds: Billy and Grano!!!

2009-04-16T13:56:00.012-04:00

Good Afternoon, friends, foes and Dean Tudor, who's appointed himself my official spel chekker!

...and of course, a hearty greeting to all the rest of you Malbec swilling shower of feckless defermentables!

BITE ME CRANK!!!

So the pleasantries dealt with, let us commence. Normally, I'd be listening to a little Acca/Dacca or Geto Boyz for inspiration, but today it's Glenn Gould all the way. I began with Schoenberg (Voice and Piano) , but there's something about the lilting brutality of the German language that's more counterproductive than contrapuntal. So now it's Gould playing Beethoven's solo piano variations. As many of you know, I'm obsessed with Glenn Gould, even going so far as to place flowers on his grave each year, on the anniversary of his death - and no, I didn't see any of you there. I'm so much a follower of Gould's genius, that I see no point in anyone else ever playing piano again; it's now a closed field, like optics.

But I digress...

2 nights ago was a major blast. The Deaconess and I headed across Egg Lantern Ave. and down Young Street with Don Velouche Brutus and Kathryn the Great, to Grano for a Billy Munnelly speshul event: Recession Reds. Now if you've never checked out Grano, you MUST do so. The owner and host, Roberto Martella, does a truly mega-lurch job. In fact, in a city of great restaurants, Roberto is one of the 3 truly classy dudes who excel in the gracious host department. (The other 2 are of course Sol Benarroch from Sette Mezzo, and John Maxwell from Allen's) Screw the Iron Chef! I think there should be an Iron Host TV show, and these three can take on anybody in the frickin' world...and win!

So Billy arranged this amazing evening with about 20 different bottles of red wine under 10 bucks. The tasting was done blind and was followed by a fantastic spagetti and meatball dinner with more wine included, all supplied gratis. (That's "free of charge" if you live in Keswick) It started out as a small affair for about 20 people and grew to take over the entire restaurant, which Roberto made available for the tasting. We got there about 15 minutes early and the line was right out into the street, which didn't prevent a huge star like your humble Deacon from muscling to the very front. It's actually easy to do. You just alternate yelling "Woman with child" and "I'm having a stroke!" It works every time. Failing that, you can try yelling "SARS!" or "Unclean! I am a leper!" That will get you in almost anywhere ahead of the crowd...

Anywhere except the frickin' ER, it would seem. Your humble Deacon had pneumonia a few weeks back and went to Sunnybrook Hospital Emergency, since I regard the geographically closer, Toronto East General as the Guantanamo Bay of hospitals and Scarlem General more the place I'd pick if I wanted a lethal injection. Well we went to Sunnybrook, which is bright and clean and has everything you could possibly want in a hospital...except doctors. Apparently, you're supposed to bring your own. One poor dude had been waiting since 4PM and it was now nearly 2:30 AM! I kid you not. I checked myself out and we saw my own GP the next day. Your tax dollars at work, folks...I was going to yell "Bite my feverish wand!" as I dragged myself out, but the phalanx of security guards were a bit too serious looking for a man with lungs full of fluid to fight and prevail.

But back to Grano...

Anyway, Billy and Kato kept it all running smoothly (the Grano event, not the ER) and there were 3 rooms full of shouting, drinking, laughing people, some of whom forgot it was a tasting and tried to get their "money's worth". There were a lot of vino heavyweights there too, including The Star's Gord Stimmell, Charles Baker of Stratus (and his own Riesling) fame, Graham Duncan, from Drinksville Media, and the Globe and Mail's Beppi Crosariol, who was very gracious and came over to meet the Deaconess.

"He's much younger in person than he looks in his picture!" she said as he walked away. You hear that Beppi? That's a compliment. Much better than having the frickin' Dorian Gray thing happening...

When it was all judged and tallied, not surprisingly, the plebs didn't get it to a large degree. They naturally went with Ubantu and Obikwa, the smooth, soft, predictable New World offerings. It breaks my heart to see someone take a sip of Montepulciano d'Abbruzzo and crinkle their face in disgust.

Morons...Your bus is leaving.

You're supposed to drink it with food. I complained to Billy about this and told him that everyone at our table was talking about Malbec and how it's all they drink. They still don't understand rustic wines that have a little bitterness and are made to go great with food.

"It's alright Deacon" he said smiling. "They're slowly coming around..."

Kudos to Grano for a total blast. Thanks Billy and Kato. I'll see you at the next one!

Note to Sunnybrook Hospital:

Hire some effing doctors!

Deacon Dr. Fresh
Still alive, despite the best attempts of the Ontario health care system

Who is John Galt?

2009-03-10T14:01:00.007-04:00

This just in:

The World's gone mad.

And now back to our regularly scheduled SOMA broadcast...

Greetings crop circle enthusiasts, survivalists, and watchers of Sirius everywhere!

And a wide variety of clever and brilliantly cutting comments to the rest of you I-Phone worshiping DIX!

Has anyone else had that nasty cough with body ache and skin soreness, or is it just me? I'd like to hear from our shut-ins, especially all of you still recovering from the latest round of completely natural virus infections that aren't intentionally spread, and weren't manufactured in germ warfare labs at all.

So...last week I was invited to attend an industry professionals only wine tasting, put on by Jason Woodman of Woodman Wines and Spirits Inc. Now what made this particularly interesting, was the location of the event, namely the Spoke Club, at 600 King Street West. The Spoke Club is cloaked in mystery, and you've pretty well have to be royalty to even get a peek in the window, which is difficult if you can't fly, since it's on the 4th floor of the building.

I didn't want to be a keener, so I arrived an hour after start time, and parked a few blocks away. The front door was unremarkable, but equipped with an electronic finger-print pad that opened a small, triangular, sliding panel, revealing a retina scan. I placed my left eye against the aperture and found myself staring at a vintage Lotus Seven S II in an underground garage. I knocked shave and a haircut, and a computerized voice yelled "Passwords?" I shouted "Calling Dr. Howard, Dr. Fine, Dr. Howard" and the door slid open, and I climbed into the Lotus and drove up a long steep ramp. After about 40 seconds, I emerged in the City of Westminster, London. I had nothing else to do, so I drove down another ramp and walked a long dark hallway, arriving at a room with maps and a moron behind a desk who kept asking me why I resigned, until I punched him in the face, putting an end to that foolishness. Then I drove to an apartment and decided to pack some stuff and fly to the Costa Brava, but a hearse arrived and a tall cracker in a top hat injected sleeping gas in the keyhole and I passed out. I awoke, slumped on a couch, with Michael "The Glans" Pinkus standing over me, laughing. "Welcome to the Spoke Club! That's some security system, eh?" he asked, grinning, and handing me a tumbler full of 1995 Champagne Henriot Cuvee des Enchanteleurs, which despite its $195.00 pricetag, seemed like a real deal. I had a headache from the sleeping gas, and rubbed my neck as I scoped the room. The ceiling was nearly 70 feet high, and festooned with Caravaggios and Tintorettos, which are "pitchers" to those of you in Keswick. There were about 20 other winos presents, and a couple of other people whom I recognized, including Ken Lay, Sirhan Sirhan, and Dean Tudor, who had somehow contrived to wind up behind the bar. I sidled up to the organizer, Jason Woodman, who was a really lurch dude and both friendly and knowledgable. I wanted him to know that unlike the other attendees, I actually "got" the event. I wolfed down a plate of roast quail, truffles, cheese and bread and guzzled a few glasses of 2005 First Drop Shiraz, Barossa, which was a mistake, because Pinkus and Tudor both told me it was only 2% alcohol, which was clearly a lie. It was actually 2% Albarino, which gives the Shiraz more kreft and zale. I liked it a lot, and it will be 33 bucks at Vintages on April 11th. (#107599).

After a couple more plates of free food, I began to look around a bit. There's a good sized bar in the centre of the room, and a circular flight of stairs leading up into the distance, past rows of priceless leather-bound books. You gotta hand it to Galen Weston, the Loblaws Czar, who's the wunderkind behind the Spoke Club. The Deaconess has taken tons of Loblaws cooking classes, and they really do a great job. Walmart can officially bite my wand forever.

After a while at the food table, I heard a commotion, and assumed Pinkus had splashed wine on one of the 16 first edition Gutenberg Bibles and Ann Rice books, but it wasn't his doing. A wine writer named Barbara Ritchie, suddenly leapt back from the table with a scream, and we all thought she was having a stroke. It turns out that her cellphone had just gone off in her front pants pocket. Pinkus said it must have been on vibrate. I said that based on her reaction, it was probably set on TASER!

I hung out for awhile with Graham Duncan (no relation to the badminton star), from Drinksville Media. Their tagline is All the Booze that's Fit to Drink. The vibe was good, and although there were some wines I liked more than others, the good ones were really good! One I especially liked was the sole Iberian offering: 2007 Palacios Remondo La Vendimia, Rioja. It's also at Vintages (#674564) or at least will be on March 28th. For only 16 bucks, I found it really interesting.

I hung out with Billy Munnelly for a bit, and then climbed the ladder to the upper eschelons, but wasn't allowed in where Bill Gates and Bono were playing Texas Hold-em against Prince Charles and Dick Cheney. I was shoed out by a couple of guys from Blackwater, and decended the stairs at terminal velocity to the main floor, where I said my goodbyes to Billy and the others. At the exit, I was handed my car keys and given a whiff of sleeping gas. I woke up on the Eastbound Gardiner Expressway, stuck in traffic. I'm still there.

Thanks to Jason Woodman for the invite! It's great to be back in the loop...

Deacon Dr. Fresh
Always on Everyone's A-List

I BE BACK, CRACKAHS!!!

2009-02-12T13:14:00.013-05:00

So stop your lame-ass widdlin' and snivelin'! It is a glorious day in Scarlem because His Excellency, President Deacon Doctor Fresh - the Undefeated Welterweight Wine Fighting Champion of the World is back on the scene!

Control yourself ladies and hos! I got a wife!

Wassup, homeys and cheeseheads?

Now it's true that your Deacon has not put quill to parchment for a long time and of course, the whole effing planet's axing "Screw the economic meltdown! Where's the Deacon?" Well I'm here to tell y'all that it's been one fantastic whirlwind of a year. Not only has your humble Deacon guzzled about 3 bottles of quality vino a day since my last posting, but there's been a lot of other stuff goin'on too.

Thanks to all you mega-fanz who've stuck with me, even though I've been below the radar for reasons I'm about to explain. I kept hearing from people like Colio homey Doug Beatty and Billy Munnelly axin' your Deacon where he gone to. Your concern is appreciated, and your Deaconic addiction is about to be assuaged and mollified...Where else can you find a gangsta wine journalist that actually reads Ginsberg, Salinger, Basho and Machiavelli? Nowhere, peckah!

And now of course, the usual emetic and cathartic rant...

Greetings assorted DIX and bastards and a hearty ingest my banana to all you "extra-hot latte with soy milk" Stradlater-styled morons who don't understand how brilliant this gonzo wine column actually is!

What a fantastic rant that was! I didn't edit it at all, it just flowed in a stream of consciousness...Shades of Virginia Frickin Woolf!

So...there is so much to tell you that I don't know where to start. Last year, one of my peeps, Tony Aspler got the Order of Canada and deserves a hearty congratulations for it! This is the highest civilian recognition in the Great White North, and although we don't have to call him Sir Tony, I think it's probably a good idea and will help us all stay in his good books in case he winds up as Prime Minister some day. Now speaking of awards...

Around June last year, I got a mysterious phone-call on my cel, which surprised me, since almost nobody's got that number. It was this serious sounding guy and he axed me to meet him at the Four Seasons Hotel for drinks, and told me it would be "in my best interest". Now your humble Deacon's more than happy to meet a challenge head on, so I took the Bentley out of mothballs and roared downtown. I burst into the lobby bar and was met by a friendly black dude who was flanked by a couple of genuine heavies. I can't tell you his name due to issues of National Security, but his initials were B.O. It turned out that he was running for President of a major Super Power and wanted your Deacon's support. I axed what was in it for me and he axed what my price was, and I thought about it for a minute or two. Then I answered that I wanted the planet Mars. He seemed relieved and said that it was doable. All I had to do was make some hilariously damaging comments about his opponent and make sure they were widely circulated.

"You have an enormous influence on the general populace" he said smiling.

True dat!

I'd write the smear and his team would do the rest. I figured this was a good deal, and drove home and wrote a pamphlet describing his nemesis, John McC*in as a kimodo dragon wearing a suit and standing on its hind legs. Then I printed about a million of these on my HP printer and flew all over a certain country to the south in my Apache Attack Helicopter, dropping leaflets by the bundle. Rozeen and the South Central Wine Posse helped out.

Obviously it worked. The rest is history.

So awhile back, NASA sent a space plane for me and flew me to Mars where a huge 2 month long ceremony was held in my honour, with over 3,000 performers gathered at Cydonia where they have this giant face from a previous ancient civilization. I was presented with some gifts, including a crystal skull, a Mayan calendar and a bunch of diamonds and emeralds. We drank Krug Champagne and watched the sun rise between Phobos and Deimos, and then I was proclaimed Emperor of Mars.

That's right! I'm the effing Emperor of Mars!

Let's see you top that one, Aspler!

And you people thought your lives were interesting.

More to follow...

Deacon Dr. Fresh
Emperor and Legal Owner of the Planet Mars

Prime Cydonian Real Estate available! Act now!

You heard me.

Stratus and the Genius of J.L. Groux

2008-05-29T10:23:00.009-04:00

Hello Normal People.

Yes, hello my normal friends, you wonderfully normal people who simply cannot live without my incredibly appropriate and entertaining information. Hail and well met! My fondest greetings are now yours, as I sit here writing and listening to Van Der Graaf Generator's new CD...

...and to all the rest of you super moronic, Brock and Judy faced Bone Jesters, who refuse to own a cel phone that's more than 2 weeks old, but sit around moroning, and bastarding, and focus on "important stuff" like getting as many flu shots as possible, and talking about how many miles per gallon your SUV gets, and reminiscing about how much money you had before the paper condom market collapsed...

Bite my rich red rocket!

Damn it feels good to be a gangsta...

OK...here we go. It was a beautifully clear, and mostly chemtrail-free day when my Ace Homeboy, Michael "The Glans" Pinkus, hooked up with your humble Deacon, under the fine stonework of Union Station. We met at Harvey's for what was advertised as "breakfast" and to call it vile would be to unfairly credit it with quality. I mean this would have been sent back by a starving salt mine worker in a gulag! We had originally envisioned a bacon and eggs with toast and coffee sort of meal, but instead found ourselves presented with Harvey's version of the usually tolerable Egg McMuffin. Imagine a slimy pale egg with a couple of strips of slithering undercooked bacon slopped to one side on top, with a slice of irradiated and anemic tomato under the entire open sore. Then imagine stuffing this mess into yesterday's hamburger bun, and you get a sense of the massive affront to our olfactory and gustatory senses. (That's smell and taste for those of you in Keswick) At least the McDonald's variant all fits together nicely, is actually filling, and a pretty good start to the day if you're in a rush. None of this can be said for the Harveys creation, which resembled a carbuncle wrapped in a crusty diaper. Only the addition of some depleted uranium could possibly have made it worse. Let's keep in mind too, that a hamburger bun is actually the cheapest piece of crap that can still be somehow classified as "bread". Now my question is: Why don't Amy Pataki and the Canadian League of Professional Ass Clowns, Criticasters, and Bone Jesters go after Harveys instead of picking on decent little restaurants that serve real food? There's a whole frickin' expose here folks...Calling W5...Anyway...I beat my "breakfast" with a plastic fork until it stopped struggling, and chucked it in the garbage, and Pinkus followed suit. Which leads us to another question? Why do we have to use plastic knives and forks at a railway station? Do they think if they give us metal cutlery, we're going to hijack a frickin' train?

So we walked back across Front Street from Union Station to board our Niagara bound bus. We crossed the busy road using a method I call "The Eglinton East Walk". It's pure Scarlem. You can get across any busy street, if you just cross without looking. That forces the drivers to assume full responsibility and slam on the brakes. Try it. It's awesome!

"Bus?" you ask. "What bus?" Well that's the really cool part. Pinkmeister and I were on the list for a trip to Niagara and lunch at Stratus, Ontario's Ultra-Lurch winery, and yes, they actually sent a cool little bus for the five of us! Now that's frickin' class! I left the gunmetal gray Aston Martin DB5 parked in front of the Royal York and we raucously boarded the mini-bus, Pinkus grabbing the best spot for himself, where he could stretch his size fourteens out in the aisle. Our driver Keith handed us each a snack bag with H2O, OJ, fresh muffins and croissants (crescent rolls to my Keswick readers) and we hit the Gardiner Expressway at full tilt. Within about 40 minutes, we took a break at the huge Wendy's and Tim Hortons and were off again. I won't give you a lot of info about the bus trip, as I want to give Stratus the linoleum's share of the article. Suffice to say, there were the usual hilarious double entendres, brilliant japes and hysterical laughter from Pinkus and yours truly. I love hangin' with this dude. It's kind of like having Hunter S. Thompson as a friend; the high jinks are never far away...The Pinkmeister brings out the best...and worst in me. I put him onto one of my fave books: The Anubis Gates by Tim Powers. In return, he got me into the dark sounds of Australia's Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds and their CD Murder Ballads, which is definitely not for the faint of heart. My stomach was a bit churny after the "food" at Harveys, and I commenced singing a brilliant composition of my own entitled The Colon Song. (Lyrics available on request) Pinkus has an English degree, and he quickly learned the words and joined in lustily, although the melody eluded him for most of the day.

Our driver Keith did a four-wheel power slide into the Stratus parking lot, and we roistered into the tasting arena, where we were greeted by the lovely and svelte Suzanne Janke. We stood around swashbuckling for a while, and drank some very nice Stratus Riesling in Riedel that sliced through the remains of the Harvey's glop like a High Explosive Anti-Tank round goes through reactive armour. Ultra refreshing and very bracing, it prepped us for the amazing wines and food to follow. We hung on until a couple of Niagara wine writers arrived, including my new homey, Evan "The Greek Avenger" Saviolidis, who's right into the whole UFC thing and closely followed my own Octagon career, including my defeat of Robert "Nosey" Parker a couple of years back. After a while, we hooked up with Stratus' winemaker, the Glenn Gould of the Grape, the Wanderlei Silva of the Winery, the immortal J.L. Groux. Now I have a helluva lot of respect for Ontario's winemakers. We've got some real talent here, including Frederic Picard, David Sheppard, Jean-Pierre Colas, Ronald John Giesbrecht, Norman Hardie, Carlo Negri, the team of Craig McDonald and Rob Power, etc., etc. And when you're talking about talent, J.L. Groux is truly a frickin' heavy-hitter. Like Stratus itself, J.L. drips with quiet class. He took us out to the vineyard to check out the vines while Suzanne and staff poured some delicious rose. The Cab Franc was already budding and the grapevines looked as though they'd been trimmed by Vidal Sassoon. After a fascinating discourse with the man I call "The Albert Einstein of Wine", we headed up to the patio, where Pinkus, Evan and I sipped pink wine in the sunshine and alternately faked kicks at each other's crotches and laughed like baboons.

Now you got's to undestand: Stratus is as far from being typical as your Deacon is from the average cage-fighting wine writer. Stratus sits on 62 prime acres at the perfect temperature moderating distance from Lake Ontario. The soil contains three types of clay and drains really well. Also, they get less rain than some of the areas of Niagara, and dryer soil leads to hardier grapes with deep rooted vines. I've spoken before about Stratus' pump free winery, it's amazing eco-consciousnessand the gorgeous design of the building itself, so I won't go over it all again. Check out the winery here for all that lurch info.

We headed into a private room and sampled the flagship wines, Stratus Red and Stratus White - three of each. These showcase J.L.'s genius insofar as they're different every year. He gathers whatever has done well and assembles them into a highly complex and age worthy wine, thus the name "assemblage". This creates a kitchen sink wine, but it's the kitchen sink of the Ritz in Paris! J.L. is careful to create wines that are drinkable with food immediately, but are extremely age worthy, like a fine Bordeaux. We also sampled their first ever Gewurtztraminer of the 2006 vintage. The floral nose on this will knock your sox off! As we sipped it, I wondered if there's anything J.L. can't do well...We moved on to the 2005 Cab Franc, my particular fave. I think Cab Franc is Ontario's red grape and to be honest, nobody does it better than Stratus. If you think you can find a better Cab Franc anywhere then buy it! And then bite my wand, 'cause you're a DIK for thinking that! My brother-in-law Craig, who lives in France, raved about Stratus Cab Franc, and he's practically an alcoholic!

We then had an unbelievable lunch, catered by Treadwell. We had perch, duck confit, pork belly, spinach greens picked that morning, amazing artisan cheese, etc. It was beyond good, and was so perfect, it had almost become annoying. How could I ever enjoy food again, after something this amazing, combined with J.L.'s outstanding super-premium wines? We ended with 2007 Stratus Icewine Red. It's a rollicking combination of Cabernet Sauvignon, Cab Franc and Syrah. It smelled exactly like ripe red berries and had a finish that went on 'till next Tuesday. The thing that made it all so great, was J.L. sat and had lunch with us and is a really easy-going, friendly kind of guy. I remember another Ontario winemaker of note, who when I brought up J.L. Groux's name, went quiet and then said "J.L. Groux...yeah...he knows what he's doing alright..." If I told you who said it, you'd realize the level of the compliment. We were joined over our meal by Suzanne and also Director of Marketing, Charles Baker. Charles is a really friendly and highly entertaining fellow. He has a unique talent of answering virtually any question with a convergence metaphor, both hands in the air; gradually moving together as he speaks...Get him to show you when you visit...And you will visit, because Stratus is like Paris. Everyone needs to go there once...and once you do...you know you'll be back again.

You can buy Stratus wines from the winery, and be warned: You're going to pay a premium price. But since these are super-premium wines, it makes total sense. These are good enough to serve to the King of Mars. I picked up a bottle of Gewurtz, a couple of bottles of Cab Franc and yes, I grabbed the icewine too. Suzanne presented each of us with a goody bag, containing a special Stratus tasting glass and a box of delicious truffles. Thanks babe. You rock big time!

All good things come to an end, and we climbed back on the bus and Keith drove us back to Toronto and the Royal York Hotel. On the way back, Pinkus tried to get me singing the Colon Song again, because he'd forgotten the melody. I wasn't into it though. I was practicing telling fascinating convergence metaphors with my hands moving slowly together to illustrate the point I was making.

Thank you Suzanne, Charles and Ontario's wine genius, J.L. Groux. May he live long and prosper, and continue to raise Ontario's wine bar higher and ever higher.

You heard me.

Deacon Dr. Fresh
Gonzo Wine Journalist

The Deacon and Brutus declare "Viva Balsam!!!"

2008-05-21T14:30:00.012-04:00

Yo Foodies, Omelet heads and Toast Addicts!

I be back! And if you're wondering who the serious white boy in the picture is, it's The Man Himself, Don Velouche Brutus. Now this is an overdue posting, but a highly significant one.

But first, the usual brilliant rant:

Greetings to all my frenz and fanz, and a particularly sallow "Bite my entire staff!" to the moronic mob of morons who sit around moroning like morons and don't even realize what morons they are.

So anyway, your humble Deacon and Deaconess were recently wined and dined by Don Velouche Brutus and his consort, Kathryn the Great, in honour of your Deacon's birthday. Brutus being a noted oenophile and amateur food critic, his invitation to Balsam was particularly interesting in light of a fairly recent and devastating "review" of said establishment by noted Professional Restaurant Criticaster, Amy Pataki. The review in question bore such a pale verisimilitude to our experience with the restaurant, that one wonders if the term "review" should be replaced by "ass clown hatchet job". So on the night in question, we took the Black Rolls out of mothballs and picked up the generous couple and in a matter of minutes, arrived at Balsam in the trendy Beach/Beaches area of Canada's finest city. Brutus had brought a couple of BYO bottles of wine with him, including a particularly lurch Stratus Cab Franc, and we were soon ensconced in a cozy table and friendly staff and patrons with nary an ass clown in sight or on site.

Now this is a very cool little place. It seats around 30 people and the food has a distinctly Mediterranean flavour. I had the surf and turf, and if you're an Ass Clown Food Criticaster, you probably expect something like you'd get at the Keg. But this was no 20 oz Porterhouse and Lobster tail surf and turf. Think small quantities and amazing quality; some braised beef ravioli with a couple of flawlessly cooked scallops on top. Newsflash! It's the sort of portion you'll get in Paris and is not meant to be wolfed down. The salad was incredible and the service, more than up to scratch. The desserts are actually a family secret and we sampled some of the most melt-in-the-mouth cookies we've ever tasted. Part of the mandate is to provide smaller plates that the table can experience as a group. Other items include jerk quail with caramelized banana and Mango Gastrique, and pan seared crab cake with spiked sour cream and citrus corn sauce! Genius Chef Nick Drake manages to create his culinary wonders in a tiny kitchen and is readily available for questions and comments. Main man David Salter who earned his stripes at Oliver Bonancini is highly attentive, keeps things moving and makes sure his patrons want for nothing. If you're just down for a snack and a drink, you can hang at the bar, and the patio's open in warm weather. Situated at Queen East and Balsam Avenue (coincidence?), it's dressy casual and also open on Sunday!

Seriously, homeys - we loved our dinner and the ambiance is very cosy. The Deaconess and Kathryn the Great loved their dinners too, and were less strident than usual, which was a huge plus. The only improvement I can recommend for Balsam would be a box of lawn darts at each table that you can throw at any Ass Clowns who try to cross the thresh hold and ventilate their personal inadequacies via scathing and vituperative "reviews".

I think Balsam is the Beach/Beaches best kept secret. Y'all check it out. Tell David the Deacon sent you. He'll treat you well.

I'm givin' Balsam 5 Frickin' Starz!!!

A huge thanks to Don Velouche Brutus and Kathryn the Great for a spectacular birthday dinner!

You heard me.

Deacon Dr. Fresh
Protectin' my homeys from Ass Clowns and Criticasters...

iYellow Wine Club visits the Black Freighter!

2008-04-10T11:43:00.017-04:00

Happy Spring, Children of the Vine!

The frickin' snow's finally decided to eff off and the warm sun has returned at last. And with the return of warmth, a woman's heart turns to romance, and a man's mind turns to Boppin' in the Beater!

...and speaking of Boppin' in the Beater, which we are, I gots a really kool interview for y'all with the Deacon's Fave Beater Boppin' Babe of 2008: Italian Foxette, Ange Aiello!

Now I know if you're anything like me, as soon as you think "Italian" your mind turns to other things...but this is a wine blog, so I won't even mention any of the fascinating cultural additions that Italy's given us, like Ferraris, Michelangelo, pizza, vumpio, thrustio, trains that run ontime, and rotting bodies weighted with bricks in plastic bags at the bottom of Lake Ontario with the teeth smashed in and the fingerprints sliced off...

But first the usual rant that so many of you tune in for...

Greetings Boyz and Girlz, and special Yo Wassups to Kirkland Lake's Charlie "Chuck" Waggon, Sir Tony Aspler, Jono Kuhling, John Maxwell, Billy Munnelly, Sadie Darby, and a host of other gracious fanz of the Deacon!

And a hearty "Blow my bagpipe" to all you feather dusting, flag waving, Earth Hour obeying, propagandized, boardwalk strollin', always texting, moronized DIX who give your kids stupid names like Chardonnay and Thaddeus, and sit around moroning in the Bozone, and who've read my blog for years but still sit there with blank expressions and twiddle your thumbs!

Avast peckers! Let the story commence!

It was a sunny day in Pizzaville when the Young Professionals, Ange Aiello and her partner in wine, Paxton Allewell stepped out of their limousine at Queen's Quay and strode up the gangplank of the Black Freighter. Pep frisked them for weapons and wires and went back to his usual spot on the helicopter pad and resumed polishing his blackjack collection and splitting cornflakes with a razorblade. It was warmer than we'd gotten used to, so Paxton and I raised the black silk sails and we slipped smoothly out of our berth next to Captain John's Seafood Restaurant, and headed toward Ward's Island with Adam "The Sadist" Sutherland at the tiller. The brisk breeze was refreshing, and the sun was already over the yard-arm, so I served up a round of Deacon cocktails, which are birdbath sized martini glasses, swirled with Havana Bay Rum and then filled with ice-cold Cave Spring Riesling, and then topped with a few grains of lemon zest.

It was actually a pretty cool discussion. Ange does most of the talking; Paxton adding the odd comment when needed, as your Deacon threw in the usual hilarious lines that largely slipped under the radar.

iYellow Wine Club came into being a couple of years back, when Ange and Paxton, who met in university, decided to fill a niche in the wine industry by providing a wine education / social event service to young professionals, the same way your humble Deacon provides a wine service to society's bottom-feeders, gangstas, pirates and psychotic martial arts freaks. Since then, they've gone on to provide fantastic bus tours to wine country, along with tastings and seminars, in an unpretentious manner - although I think Billy Munnelly owns the word "unpretentious"... Beginning with only 250 members, they've attracted a couple of thousand newbies and show no signs of slowing down. What began as a hobby has become a full-time career move. The thing that makes iYellow Wine Club interesting to many, is that fact that it's free. As a member, you get all the updates about upcoming tours, like their Green Wine Tour. Now I know a lot of my readers will immediately be going "Wha...?" but it isn't some kind of late St. Patrick's Day event. It's a tour of organic winemaking, including stops at Flat Rock, Tawse, and the tiny but beautiful FrogPondFarm. You jump on a bus with about 30 other crackers and Ange and Paxton bring you up to speed on all you're sampling. Now the tours aren't free, but they're very reasonable, and based on how quickly the club's growing, iYellow's doing something right! There are lots of other tours too, including a Celebrity Wine Tour which will be happening in May. You'll get to check out the wines of Mike Weir, Wayne Gretsky and Dan Akroyd, although you don't get to go into their houses and snoop through their closets. They also do Naked Wine Tastings...but you'll have to check with them on that one...

Here's a recent story on Ange and Pax on CBC. Check it out. Also be sure you check out their website and join the club! You'll find out there's more to clubbing then waiting in line outside a bar or crackin' some moron over the head with an ASP tactical baton. There's a whole world of wine out there to explore, and the iYellow Wine Club will be happy to show it to you!

Here's their website. Tell them the Deacon sent you, and they'll give you a free membership. (Yes, I'm a comic genius!)

The wind died down on the leeward side of Ward's Island and we dropped the sails and engaged the twin 500 horsepower Pratt and Whitney turbines and pulling hard to port, headed back north. I asked Ange and Paxton who they'd fight in the Octagon. They seemed puzzled at first, but finally decided they'd like to fight...
each other....Calling Dr. Freud!!!

So thanks to the iYellow Wine Club for the interview. Ange and Paxton will be hosting the 2008 Ontario Wine Awards in Niagara on the Lake, and tickets are still available! Y'all go check them out.

Deacon Dr. Fresh
Always supportin' the homeys...

The Deacon Visits Keswick!!!

2008-02-05T17:36:00.001-05:00

Greetings my dear friends. What a great experience this has been! After a number of humourless readers complained that I was constantly "trashing Keswick", I decided to check it out for myself, and had to admit I was wrong...Keswick is NOT a dull, cultureless wasteland. It's actually a thriving cosmopolitan mini-city, with no need to interact with the outside world at all.

Mayor John-David "Rick" Jeeter, seen in the photo with the Keswick District Health Officer and the World Junior Snowmobile Jump Champion, took me for a spin around the mini-city on the official Mayoral vehicle: an all-weather, curb climbing, luxury snowmobile, for a whirlwind tour of educational fun and thrills!

Here's what I learned:

Far from being cultureless, Keswick has its share of celebrities. Noted actor and comedian, Jim Carrey temporarily lived in a trailer in Jackson's Point, only a short drive from Keswick. Glen Toulin, the brilliant jew's harp and musical saw player once lived in Keswick for an entire summer, and 2 time Southern Ontario Crokinole Champion, the late Dave Ellings lived near Keswick all his life. The mini-city is very picturesque, with a marsh, a snowmobile parts dealer and a Seven Eleven that stocks everything you need, from white bread to dew-worms and snowmobile parts. Every winter, from October to May, the second largest snowmobile picnic in the world takes place out on Cooke's Bay. Only Kirkland Lake has a larger one! Here, local mechanics and parts dealers drink beer and tell hilarious stories about people crashing through the ice and washing up on the beach in June. There is a prize for the best decorated snowmobile, and the locals drink the favourite Keswick cocktail: hot chocolate and beer! If you've never had a hot cup of this gut warming potion, try it with a fresh chunk of bass on a slice of white bread. Then head up to the Stephen Leacock Theatre, which is being bulldozed to make room for the Dave Ellings Crokinole Arena. It's easy to find - just follow the line of make-shift snowmobile crash crucifixes and head north! And make sure you stick around for the Canadian Ice Fishing Championships!

Keswick also has a library, although it's technically in Jackson's Point. It's open every Wednesday, rain or shine, and here you can borrow perennial favourites, like The Dummy's Guide to Ski-doos or The Idiot's Guide to Snowmobile Crashes. Keswick's thriving nightlife is something you have to see to believe! His Worship took me for a ride down the Main Street sidewalk where we played "Scare the Senior" and then it was off to the late night butcher's shop to watch the new meat slicer in action. She's a lovely girl. Saturday mornings are spent recovering from Friday night's snowmobile crash, or simply polishing the Polaris with an appropriate wax from Canadian Tire. The big entertainment on Sunday is watching the traffic lights change. (It happens at noon, if you don't want to miss it.) The Keswick Congregational Church holds outdoor services all year, so you don't even have to climb off your all terrain vehicle or Snowjet!

Here are some fascinating Keswick facts:

Did you know...

Mary Dales at 82 is the oldest person in Keswick?
One of the houses in town is thought (by some) to be haunted?
More hot chocolate and beer is consumed per capita in Keswick than any comparable city?
There are an estimated 60 tons of snowmobiles on the bottom of Cooke's Bay?
Keswick has the highest person to book ratio on the planet?
The official game of Keswick is not ice hockey, but crokinole?
The Keswick Snow Collision Hospital has a first rate Testicle Trauma Ward?
Although Keswick is known primarily for "snowmobiles on the sidewalk", 87% of Keswickians own Jet Skis too?

As we roared East on Morton Avenue, leaving the frozen wasteland of Cooke's Bay behind, I could hear the gunning of engines and the occasional impact and stifled scream as the good folk of Keswick celebrated the beginning of the weekend, well into the early evening.

"It's a great town, Your Worship" I said to Mayor John-David "Rick" Jeeter, as I cradled the commemorative Dave Ellings Crokinole Set I'd been presented with at the Seven Eleven / Mayor's Office.

"No Deacon. It's a thriving cosmopolitan mini-city" he responded. I dismounted the luxurious, air conditioned, Arctic Cat Icebuster and stared across the bay where the bright headlight glare of the bulldozers indicated the razing of the Stephen Leacock Theatre had begun.

A thriving cosmopolitan mini-city?

Damn right it is.

So visit Keswick. Come for the morning and stay all afternoon. Come for the crokinole and stay for the five pin bowling. Keswick's open all year round, and it never sleeps...
And make sure you grab a mug of hot chocolate and beer, and a slice of bass on white sandwich bread. Tell them the Deacon sent you.

Deacon Dr. Fresh
Supporting thriving cosmopolitan mini-cities everywhere

Creekside Rox the Deacon!

2008-02-05T11:14:00.001-05:00

Good morning Boyz and Girlz!

Your Deacon here, with a much delayed article about one of my all time faves: Creekside Estate Winery!

The dudes in the picture are the Dynamic Duo of Ontario wine, namely Rob Power (standing) and Craig McDonald (drinking). But before we continue...

Hello to my millions of fanz from Greece to Colorado, you are loved! And of course, a special greeting to all you...wait for it...this is going to be a good rant...

All you Blackberry thumbing, Axe spraying, Bill Gates worshipping, Africa vaccinating, coffin saluting, Adirondack hiking, red meat, colon encrusted, DIX out there:

Exfoliate my Victory Garden!!!

Wow! That was excellent. And highly cathartic too...

So let's talk about Creekside...By now, my lurchest fanz have realized that I cannot be frickin' bought. Your humble Deacon only supports wines and wineries that he believes in. I go out of my way to not diss people; although I'm not above neck-cranking them if they realllllllllly bug me. My strongest criticism is...silence. If I don't like something, I just ignore it - like a certain winery that would love to have the Deacon support the rooster juice they call wine; they want my imprimateur, but it ain't gonna happen... So in the past, I've written up the fine wines of Coyote's Run, Henry of Pelham, Cave Spring, Colio, Norman Hardie, Huff, Stratus, Penninsula Ridge, etc., because they all do a great job and make highly lurch products.

And Creekside fits securely in the lurch product aisle
.
What y'all got with Rob and Craig, is a highly effective team that brings diverse ("different" for those of you in Keswick) skills to the table. Former sommelier and Ontario boy, Rob, graduated from the first class at Brock University's Cool Climate Oenology and Viticulture Institute. Our local gunslinger is joined by the Wizard of Oz, Craig, who has worked at 9 different wineries around the globe. Now your Deacon has a lot of boisterous Australian friends, but Craig's the laid-back type, and isn't necessarily going to call you gay, just because you own a vacuum cleaner or occasionally help out with the dishes.

But the wines...

It was my mentor, Billy Munnelly who introduced me to Rob and Craig as well as marketing wizard, Matt Loney, a couple of years back, and believe me, Creekside makes some fabulous stuff! Some of you will remember that I've been on a rant for sometime about how Shiraz will never do well in Ontario unless someone moves the earth closer to the sun, because Shiraz needs a lot of sunlight to develop fully.

Well...I was wrong! But as usual, I admit to being wrong, which is always the right thing to do. So if you really think about it, that kind of makes me right after all, so get off my case and bite my wand!

Creekside has made some Shiraz that's mindblowing! I don't know how they do it, and I aint axin', but one sip will convince you. Remember, this is a premium product. The 2005 Broken Press Shiraz is just incredible! The boyz use the time-honoured method of adding a splash of Viognier, which despite being a white grape, actually makes the wine darker and inkier. All the grapes come from their own vineyards at St. David's Bench. This'll run you just over 30 bucks, but it's worth every penny, and is the perfect bottle to impress that hot ho, so you can take her home for some boppin' in the beater! Zoltan gave it 4 1/2 stars out of 5, and that Hungarian knows his frickin' wine. Watch too for the 2006 Shiraz. Your Deacon hasn't tried it yet, but I've got every reason to believe it will be another killer.

Another really lurch wine is Laura's Blend White. This is a mix of 6 white grapes, including Riesling, Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Grigio, Viognier and Muscat. The result is wonderfully startling! There are layers upon layers of complexity and flavours both local and tropical. They've just kissed it with oak too, instead of knockin' it dead with a sheet of frickin' plywood. This will run you about 18 bucks and deserves to be checked out. Typically, only Stratus' J.L. Groulx shows this kind of creativity, but Rob and Craig have stepped up to the plate and hit it out of the frickin' park!

I could go on and on about this exceptional boutique winery, but you need to check it out yourself. You can visit their website and online store by clicking here. Y'all tell them the Deacon sent you, and say yo wassup, to my homey Matt Loney. He'll take good care of y'all.

Congratulations Creekside, and thanks for keepin' it real.

Your Deacon has your back...

Deacon Dr. Fresh
Occasionally vacuuming, but not gay

The Deacon Samples Some Lurch Lindemans Whites!

2008-01-14T10:36:00.000-05:00

Happy January! Yes, dear friends, I be back again!

...and of course, all the rest of you thumb-suckin', goblin fleeing, data-transferring, scrotal fever blisters can officially bite my wand.

It's gonna be a great year for wine, and I wanna start the annum off nice and easy with a review of a couple of bottles of white wine I've enjoyed recently. Now of course some of you have already tuned me out, because you "only drink red wine". I'm sure you do...but have you asked yourself why you "only drink red wine"? If you really think this through, I think you'll discover that the primary reason for this is quite simple: You're a DIK! You are missing out on some great wines that just have to be consumed in the right context for you to enjoy them every bit as much as your heavy-hitting reds.

When I started studying the Munnelly methods of wine drinking, it quickly became apparent that white wine served a valuable purpose in the overall scheme of life. There's really nothing like a clean and fresh glass or two of the clear stuff to get your evening started, or tune up your appetite for the dinner that follows.

So...Here are a couple of white wines that I think you'll find to be very lurch:

Lindemans Bin 85 Pinot Grigio This Australian is described as having tropical fruit characters and guava notes. Now I'm a gourmand, not a gourmet, and I wouldn't know guava from guano. But here's what I do know: This is a really refreshing wine for just before a big honkin' meal! It has an unusual characteristic, insofar as there's a very slight but quite pleasant bitterness in the finish. It's almost a little herbaceous bite, and I find that it gets the digestive juices going and makes me hungry for some substantial food. Another thing I like about it is the total absence of frickin tree flavours! That's right...there's no oak, and it's nice to let the grapes speak for themselves for a change. My millions of regular readers know that your humble Deacon loves oak, but sometimes there's so much, it approaches the taste of plywood and this is a nice break from the lumberyard. The great thing is the price. This wine delivers value at only $11.25 which includes all usual fees the LCBastardO adds.

Next is another Lindemans wine that really grabbed me by the pouch! I'm talkin' about the Bin 95 Sauvignon Blanc! Now I know a lot of you peckers out there are martini freaks, because you're told by the media-moron glans heads who control your brain that you're supposed to like martinis, even though they taste like Ronson lighter fluid smells. Well break out of the mould, Jack! Be an individual and pour yourself a glass of this Sauvignon Blanc as a Deacon Dr. Fresh Martini Substitute. This vibey white gives a nice little electric jolt of energy that will get the conversation flowing in no time! Try it with some herbed chicken too, and make sure you drink it really cold to bring out the electrons...Once again, it's well worth the price. Just like the Pinot Grigio, it's great value: only $11.40, even after the LCBMafiaOsos have taken their cut.

So check one of them out! Or even better, buy them both. You'll thank me, just as I am thanking me.

More Aussie reviews coming soon...

Deacon Dr. Fresh
Backin' the boyz Down Under