My tasting tour of Rias Baixas led to a wonderful discovery: The female winemakers in this region have made an indelible impression upon the quality of the wines and the respect Albariño grapes have earned internationally.

I spent an afternoon at Pazo de Señoráns with Marisol Bueno, one of the founders of the Albariño D.O., along with her daughter Vicky and their team to learn the history behind the creation of the appellation. Like many of the smaller wine regions around the world, Marisol wanted to showcase the grapes inherent to Rias Baixas, taking advantage of the terroir of Galicia and its unique qualities to craft what has become one of my favorite wines.

Winemakers often become philosophical about the “struggle of the grapes” and how it lends character to their flavor profile. In Galicia the grapes do indeed face difficult conditions, as the climate is consistently moist, presenting the ever-present danger of mildew. Albariño grapes must be coaxed to grow in a manner that enables sunlight to penetrate the vines and keep them dry, which winery manager Javier Izurieta Romero explains in detail in the following video.

Note: This wine tour was sponsored by Wines from Spain and the Rias Baixas wine region.

I’m seeing lots of discussions lately about the connections between food and sex, and I’m not sure if it’s simply because I’m more focused on the subject than ever before, or because others are thinking about it a lot, too. Perhaps both. The question that has my attention right now is whether or not food has started to replace sex as a means of evoking and pleasing the senses.

Pardon me while I pull myself back together.

The author of the article, my new pal AV Flox, suggested that perhaps foodie culture is a result of sexual dissatisfaction. Thankfully she insists on bringing the magic back to sex, which is one of the reasons I like her very, very much. I also think she’s on to something.

If you’ve read any of my posts over the last 5 years (and hey, I hope you’ve read one or two), then you know that I see food and sex as companions happily intertwined on the journey of the senses. In complementary fashion, they appeal to our deepest pleasure points, arousing, sustaining and nourishing the most important parts of ourselves. Sadly, given the generally prudish nature of American culture, and an overstressed population that tends to operate in a state of blithe self-oblivion, the roots of sensuality and sexual pleasure have been relegated to too many secret conversations, private thoughts and therapy sessions. Instead, we watch reality TV and wonder why we feel dissatisfied.

Gael Greene thinks lust has headed completely toward the kitchen — and if she’s right, this is good news, at least in my opinion.

When I see a person who enjoys fondling vegetables while shopping, or who can appreciate the subtleties of flavor components, I know there is potential (if expertise has not already been achieved) in the bedroom. Sensual pleasure in all its forms is rooted in our philosophy — in our outlook on life itself. In the anthology Food & Philosophy: Eat, Think & Be Merry I contributed an essay called Food and Sensuality: A Perfect Pairing comparing bad cooking shows to cheap porn. Momentary thrill, not much left afterward. There is a deeper meaning to all of it, and greater heights to be reached when we can clear our minds of clutter, quick thrills and petty, everyday concerns to get to the good stuff. There is so much good stuff.

There are many blog posts to come on this subject, but I’m thinking aloud with you as I go, and would love your input. Has food replaced sex for you, or enhanced it? Has playing with food awakened something in you sensually?

Photo: Kelly Cline

We knew it was coming. In October it seemed far off in the distance, so we put it out of our minds. Now we look at the calendar and start to freak out inside…just a little bit.

The holiday season is upon us, so it’s time to get organized for the revelry ahead. Given that a normal holiday gathering with my immediate family means 20-25 guests, we’ve got this thing down to a science. We also have an industrial meat slicer, so I realize that we are a bit…unusual. But that doesn’t mean you can’t pull this off, too.

I joined Marsha Collier and Mark Cohen on KTRB Radio in San Francisco today to talk about tech tools to help manage the chaos, and wanted to give you an expanded list here as a handy reference tool.

Planning:
You’ve heard me say it before, but a little Type A goes a long way. Get it out of your head and on to paper (or your PDA/iPhone/latest gadget). We’ve created a whole section on Culinary Media Network to help you get started, from the number of guests to the style of your party.

I also discovered an amazing planning resource whose bells and whistles go far deeper than I imagined. You’ve likely received an invitation from eVite…but did you know what else is under the hood? Their tools enable everything from managing your guest list to creating a detailed timeline and checklist. They even have decor suggestions.

Calendar:
Set up a Google calendar for yourself with the title “Thanksgiving” or “Holidays,” and you can have e-mail reminders sent right to your inbox each day. You can also sync it to your other calendars so your tasks are like any other items on your to-do list. There are lots of tools online for this, so choose the one you like best, preferably one that is already part of your routine. If your form of organization and planning includes Post-It notes all over your desk, hey, I won’t judge.

Menu:
If you need menu ideas, there is no shortage of resources online for finding recipes, from our full recipe list to sites like allrecipes and Epicurious. If you would rather have a book in your hands, there is still time to order The Gilded Fork: Entertaining at Home to have at your disposal for menu ideas.

Shopping

Ingredients:
Believe it or not, I don’t particularly enjoy grocery shopping, particularly if I’m feeling rushed. Thankfully there are now plenty of online delivery services to take care of that piece for you. The downside? If you like fondling your vegetables (the part I actually enjoy), the control freak in you will have to let go and accept that someone else will be picking out your potatoes. If you’re on the east coast or in Chicago, check out PeaPod (or your local supermarket’s web site). West coasters can take a look at Safeway, which has created a whole Thanksgiving section just for you.

Turkeys:
I’m not a big fan of the frozen bowling balls known as supermarket turkeys, but use them when necessary. If you prefer something a little tastier, here are some options:

• D’Artagnan: Gorgeous fresh or frozen turkeys that are delivered to your door, with 14-16 lb frozen turkeys for $65.
• Lobels: An NYC staple for Thanksgiving, they ship fresh organic and free-range turkeys for $75 and up

Wine:
Now this is a favorite, and not just because it was started by some friends of mine. Called the “Netflix of wine,” WineQ is a wine-delivery service that lets you queue up your favorites, start your own wine club, and discover what your friends are drinking.

Hostess Gifts:
If you are the lucky recipient of an invitation to a holiday party, please remember good etiquette and bring along a gift for your host. He or she is working very hard to entertain you, so a little reward is in order.

We’ve got some lovely gift ideas in the Gilded Fork Boutique, especially our Tondo flavored vinegars, so you can peruse gift options there, or at some other favorites including Dean & Deluca, Harry and David, or iGourmet.

If you want to dress *yourself* up a little, take a look at what The Hip Hostess has on display. She also features some gorgeous home decor finds.

But What If I Can’t Cook?!
Ah, the age-old dilemma. Guess what? There are solutions for that, too. Now, you could make a restaurant reservation, but I’m a huge proponent of welcoming people into my actual home for the holidays. The good news is that we have an entire country full of personal chefs, and you can find them all on the U.S. Personal Chef Association web site. Chef Mark is right here in NYC, so don’t forget to see his offerings at ReMARKablePalate.com.

Most importantly, remember to take deep breaths and not to panic. Worst-case scenario, open another bottle of wine and pour some more cocktails. It will all be just fine.

It’s been an intriguing few weeks.

At BlogWorldExpo in Las Vegas, I found myself being introduced in the following manner: I’d like you to meet Jennifer. She does “Sex on a Plate.” To my pleasant surprise, many people already knew about it — or wanted to. Marsha Collier and I talked about it on her radio show for KTRB in San Francisco, and 4 million more people were let in on the secret. I loved that.

I then spent a few days with Kelly Cline, the early inspiration for turning my blog into something more. I am drawn to her food photography like a bee to honey, as she is the only person on earth who can see inside my mind and bring my thoughts to visual, four-color reality. We’ve had a magnificent five years of collaboration, and I’m coming away from my time with her newly inspired. It also turns out she takes more than good food photos…but more on that another time.

Kelly and I breathe a tandem rhythm of sensual stimulation, but we don’t want to be the only two in on the melody — and it looks like many of you feel the same way.

On Facebook, in e-mail and at events, people are asking me what it all means. So what kind of food should I eat? What dish gets you really hot? But that, my friends, is the result, not the cause. Let me explain a bit.

On Food Philosophy #87 I talked about experiencing Zumanity, the Sensual Side of Cirque du Soleil. I’m eternally grateful to Jess Berlin for offering me a ticket, because seeing the show brought all my recent thoughts together in a flash of inspiration. Zumanity artfully and powerfully evokes the sensual desires in our minds — even the ones we hide in the light of day — and strikes a chord so deep it’s impossible to leave the theater without an overwhelming need to satiate them. Whether we shiver at the sight of light blue silk rippling in the breeze, or feel a rush of desire at the crack of a whip, something in that show triggers our senses until the hunger in the room is palpable. Every body shape, every sexual preference — every fantasy — is captured on stage, drenched in perfect lighting and pulsating rhythms.

I found myself in such a heightened state of sensory indulgence, I actually purred. Out loud.

After walking out of the theater I realized that if the world could step inside my head in that moment, they would get the idea of Sex on a Plate at its core. It’s not the food, you see, though that is a magnificent component of the satiety; it is what I’ve awakened inside that enables me to feel that kind of passionate arousal in such a moment, and see the world exploding with color and texture all around me. Imagine feeling like that on a regular basis. Oh yes.

The good news is that I’m not an anomaly — I’ve worked to get my senses to this place, but there are lots of you out there, even if you don’t know it yet. I’ve discovered that some of you took my tips to heart in getting started, and are beginning to see food in a whole different way. That excites me. Some of you have taken the tips into the bedroom. That excites me more.

If you haven’t yet started on the road toward Eden, I’m putting out a personal challenge to you, because it’s no fun here with just a few of us: Do something today to satiate your senses. Take a few extra seconds when you nibble that bite of chocolate, and feel its silkiness as it melts on your tongue. Run a finger down your lover’s spine. Drink in a moment of beauty, whether it’s a perfect flower or an exquisite woman.

Do this and you will soon be rewarded in the Garden, because things are in motion to bring Sex on a Plate to life, off the digitized page and right in front of you. Do you want your senses to be tickled? Titillated?

If the answer is yes — and I hope it is — I’ll need you to prepare.

Top photo: Kelly Cline
Bottom photo: Cirque du Soleil

Psst…in case you didn’t notice, over at Culinary Media Network we’re posting a weekly contest from now through the end of the year to give away signed copies of our Gilded Fork: Entertaining at Home cookbook. We’ve had two winners so far, and a slew of comments, so this is getting fun!

The first contest asked for your top 5 dinner party guests (living or dead), and the second asked who inspires you most in this new media space. We’ll have a variety of things to ask you, so get your mental mouths in gear!

There’s a whole lot happening in this episode, from my trip to BlogWorld & New Media Expo in Las Vegas to my journey through the Cotswolds in the UK. I’m also continuing my Sex on a Plate adventures, so please do join me for a little stimulating conversation.

Among other things, I was invited to see Zumanity in Las Vegas — the sensual side of Cirque du Soleil. Suffice it to say, the show’s sumptuous, erotic display gave me much inspiration for what is ahead. Today’s show also features interviews with Sally Jarrett from Prince Charles’ Highgrove shop and Chef Shane Kisby from The Priory Inn, both in Tetbury, England.

I’m also sharing a little love for my dear friends C.C. Chapman, Laura Fitton and Jen Kushell, who were all with me for some tasty meals in Las Vegas.

And hey, have you purchased your signed copy of the Gilded Fork cookbook? (shop.gildedfork.com)

Music: Beau Hall (www.beaurocks.com), George Fletcher’s Bourbon Renewal (www.georgefletcher.com)

Food Philosophy is a production of the Culinary Media Network (www.culinarymedianetwork.com)

When I decided to go to BlogWorld & New Media Expo this year, I had one of those double-edged sword moments. I couldn’t wait to see old friends and make new ones — but ugh, Las Vegas. It’s the one town I try to avoid, because it just isn’t for me. My kind of gambling involves business risk, so I am maddened by the “ding-ding-ding” when I walk through casino mazes designed to keep you trapped inside when you just want daylight.

This trip, thankfully, was a bit different. Planet Hollywood Resort invited me to stay as their guest during my trip, and as I’d never been to their hotel, I accepted with an open mind (and braced myself for the “ding”-ing).

Guess what? Unlike many of the other hotel casinos in Las Vegas, this one is far better suited to my taste, with a sleek, modern design — thank you, designer gods. It actually looks more like a hotel that happens to have a casino, so I didn’t feel overwhelmed every time I walked through the door. This was a very good thing.

I know a lot of people who travel to Vegas for business, and they often find the bells-and-whistles setting to be too much. I found that at Planet Hollywood, I could at least tune it when I wanted to. There’s still room for lots of fun, certainly (some of which I witnessed from the upstairs balcony), and the attached mall is massive, but you can also be zen-like and flake out at the spa. I really wish I’d had time to fit that in; however my room overlooked the dancing Bellagio fountains, so I at least got a bit of eye-candy between BlogWorld events and sessions.

The only thing I really missed was a bathrobe in my room. I realize that all hotels in Las Vegas are designed to keep you out of that room and in the casino, but I really craved a robe for those rare moments of downtime. Now that Las Vegas has become as much a business destination as a party one, I’ll be interested to see how the formula changes over time.

Nonetheless, I left Las Vegas a happy camper this time, and enjoyed my stay even more than I expected to. Of course, part of the journey involved food (like it ever wouldn’t). I was a guest for a tasting dinner at Koi restaurant inside Planet Hollywood, which also happened to be the locale of my pal Jen Kushell’s first foodgasm. This was intriguing.

The setting for our meal was a sumptuous table set with velvet couches overlooking those dancing Bellagio fountains. After more than a few lychee martinis (well, they go down easy), course after course appeared with sushi, spicy tuna on papadums, baked lobster on crispy rice (seen above – the Kushell foodgasm dish), sexy mashed potatoes and other sultry creations. Color me satisfied. You can see all of the dishes in my Facebook album of our Koi tasting.

I also had great company, which always makes a difference at dinner: Jennifer Kushell (@ysnjen), Rohit Bhargava (@rohitbhargava), Tiffany Monhollon Wilson (@tmonhollon) and Chef Mark (@ChefMark).

Many thanks to Brandie Feuer at Planet Hollywood (@phvegas) and BlogWorld party-man extraordinaire Joe Morin (@josephmorin) for making my stay a memorable one!

Sometimes one really needs a carb fix, but plain old French fries just aren’t enough. I’ve grown bored with potatoes, but there are times when I love — nay, need — a good crunchy starch with my dinner. I’ve been experimenting with a variety of different ones to keep my palate enthused, and two of my regular favorites are sweet potato fries and yucca fries (thank you, Peru!).

Sweet Potato Fries
These couldn’t be easier to make. Preheat the oven to 400 F. Peel a sweet potato, cut into fry-size strips, then toss with some olive oil, salt and freshly chopped rosemary. Bake in the oven for about 20 minutes or until they brown to your liking.

Yucca Fries
These take a bit more preparation, but gawd are they worth it. Yucca has substance — potato-esque, but with the slightest hint of butteriness. I also love how it looks like Camembert when you slice it open, but that’s just me. I found a great recipe for baked ones (complete with pictures) here.

After a trip through Peru that was pretty taxing on my body, I needed something to bring my body back into balance and ready myself for the daily grind. Since spa treatments are definitely not in my budget right now, I wanted the next best thing, so I decided to create a home spa treatment day for myself. I used ingredients and items I had on-hand to bring it to life, and ended the day feeling relaxed and refreshed.

You can obviously vary this to suit your own tastes, but here’s a general list of what I do to set things up:

• Draw the blinds and light candles around the house
• Put on soothing music (my favorite for this is a Reiki music CD)
• Draw a lavender bath that will fill the house with a soothing scent
• Lay out all the tools for a mani-pedi
• Dig out my soft, fluffy bath robe

From there, the schedule is mine to craft. I’ll usually start with a soak in the tub, then slather my body in a soothing lotion — my favorite is Burt’s Bees Milk & Honey. (Note: You can find Burt’s Bees at significant savings at Vitacost.com. They didn’t pay me to say that.) I use an olive oil and sugar scrub on my face to exfoliate and deeply moisturize, and mani-pedi time follows, along with a nice hot cup of Honeyed Chai Tea.

If you are fortunate enough to find yourself home alone for more than a few hours, finish it all with a peaceful nap, and perhaps a yoga session. I’ve found some great free videos on MyYogaOnline, which I also download to my iPod and take with me when I travel.

A big part of life’s enjoyment is to be found in treating yourself well, so indulge yourself.

This summer I was invited by Wines from Spain and the Rias Baixas wine region to explore their viniferous offerings. I came away from the trip with a lot of new thoughts on white wines, as they hadn’t held much excitement for me — until I discovered why. A big part of enjoying wine comes from finding out what you like, the reasons you like it, and building from the flavor notes that attract your senses, so much was revealed to me in the span of this tour. With 3 winery visits a day for the better part of a week, I really got to know the nuances of Albarino grapes and Rias Baixas winemaking, so I now feel more empowered and knowledgeable in my search for the flavors that awaken my palate. I hope my findings will help you to discover the sparks that awaken your own.

During my trip I toured the 4 sub-regions of Rias Baixas exploring both large and small winemakers, including Pazo de Señoráns, the winery of the D.O.’s founder, Marisol Bueno. The region is known for the fortitude of its female winemakers, which I have to admit, made me smile.

I’ll be releasing a series of videos and stories about the region, but for now here’s a little taste of my arrival in Santiago de Compostela, a site of pilgrimage for many Catholics. You might hear a sound that is quite unexpected coming from Spain. (Please pardon the video quality — been working out bugs with the conversions.)

A production of the Culinary Media Network (www.culinarymedianetwork.com).

Dear Big Brother: Since my readers can’t be trusted to evaluate whether or not my opinion means anything, and you suspect me (and those like me) to be a shill for anything someone might give or buy for me, we’re all putting ourselves in your able, caring hands. Thanks! Travel and accommodations for this trip were provided by Wines from Spain.

After several days here in Peru, one thing has become apparent: This is a culture deeply in love with its food. Nowhere else have I seen such a strong emotional connection to the kitchen and table. In kicking off La Mistura, Peru’s annual culinary festival, Chef Gaston Acurio talked about the state of the economy, and how food is the one sector that is growing in this country — because the emotional connection Peruvians have with their food is the last thing they’re willing to let go. Instead, they are spending their scarce funds on high-quality food products and ensuring that one integral piece of their lives remains intact.

There is something to be learned from this. To eat in Peru is to take the pleasure of dining and hospitality to a level we rarely see in the U.S. Even the fast food here is of better quality — and I’m happy to say that Bembo’s, the national burger chain, is outselling the golden arches, simply because the food is better.

Service is also prized here, and Peruvians demand the very best. The quality is evident at every level, from street foods like anticuchos (hearts, liver and intestines), papa rellena (a mixture of beef, onions and olives deep fried in a mashed potato crust) and picarones (fried dough) to the more exotic fare found in the city’s best restaurants.

With such a rich choice of ingredients, my palate has been surprised a number of times with new textures and flavors, including some from the Amazon that I’ll detail in a later post. We’ve practically gorged ourselves on ceviche and pisco sours, both national treasures. We’ve even sampled cuy (guinea pig), which is surprisingly good, especially when the skin is crisped to a crunchy finish.

It will take me a while to really absorb and share what I’m experiencing here, because it’s life-changing. I’ve never had so many new flavors in a matter of days, so my palate is still reeling from the experience.

We are now in the Sacred Valley in preparation for our trip to Machu Picchu, and it seems that everywhere I look the landscape is bursting with colors and textures — my senses will remember this trip for many years to come. We’ll have videos, photos and podcasts in the months to come, and can’t wait to share it all, but for now we’ll post as much as we can. It’s difficult when we’re always on the go (I’m supposed to be sleeping right now, as I have a 6:45 AM train to Machu Picchu), but at the very least you can take a peek at my Facebook albums:

La Mistura Culinary Festival
Lima Market Visit & Ceviche Lesson
Lima: Photos of the City
Museum of Archaeology (and Erotica – my fave!)
Sacred Valley & Pisac Market (and me on an ATV – w00t!)

During our trip to Scotland, I sat down with Chef Jason Henderson from Knock Castle to talk about his approach to fine dining. I posted my initial impressions about Knock Castle, but this takes a little behind-the-scenes look at how Jason thinks about food, and what he wants people to experience in his dining room. His able staff left me with one of my best hospitality experiences to date, so if you are going to be in the vicinity of Crieff, Scotland, I highly recommend staying here. He didn’t pay me to say that, though he is awfully cute.

I’ll also fill you in on my world of Sex on a Plate, and a peek at where I’m headed with it.

Don’t forget that our Gilded Fork: Entertaining at Home cookbook is now available! You can find it at https://shop.gildedfork.com.

P.S. Are we friends on Facebook? How about Twitter? Find me here:

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jenniferiannolo
Twitter: @foodphilosophy

Food Philosophy is a production of the Culinary Media Network (www.culinarymedianetwork.com).

Music: Beau Hall (www.beaurocks.com), Evan Stone (www.asamandrummeth.com)

I love that so many people are getting behind my Sex on a Plate mission! I recently sat down with my good friend C.C. Chapman, who is not only a prolific new media entrepreneur, but is also an avid cook, to talk about the link between food and sensuality. His site Digital Dads (for dads, by dads) addresses all sorts of parenting aspects, and he had some questions about how dads might keep things spicy with the wife.

He proposed an interesting theory that has turned into “C.C.’s law of the 2 Cs,” and I wholeheartedly agree. I think the ladies might, too:

I believe that if every guy could master the art of cunnilingus and cooking then they could win any woman’s heart. Because of this, I wanted to get [Jennifer's] take on the intimate qualities of food that she’s been talking about as part of her Sex on a Plate concept. What follows is a little Q&A and I did with her.

So if you’re a dad, or know a dad, please do spread the gospel — see the full Digital Dads Q&A. Remember the mission: Better food and better sex for everyone! Huzzah!

My pal Art Insana has created a wonderful new site called the-future.com, which takes a compelling look at the trends that will shape our world in the days and decades ahead, with contributions on topics ranging from fashion to science. I’m intrigued to see the discussions that will surely arise.

When Art asked me to write a piece on food for the site’s debut, I could not help but think about the local (or locavore) movement, and what that might mean for us, globally, as a species. There are more questions than answers that arise when examining such a topic, so I decided to begin with those in hand.

Coincidentally, I’d been spending the past few weeks deep in thought about local vs. mass-production food, as I received a screener’s copy of Food, Inc. and finally had a chance to watch it. After a bit of searching, I also found The Future of Food on Hulu. I used to be of the opinion that genetically-modified foods were fine, given that just about all plant matter we eat has been hybridized at some point in history. However, the idea of flounder DNA in tomatoes crosses a line for me — as does the law of unintended consequences. As does the idea of us not having knowledge readily available concerning what is being put into our bodies.

Given that I’m also a rabid capitalist, this all presented a bit of a quandary. Years ago, I came out swinging in favor of Monsanto — the monolith of seed manufacturing. Now that I’ve learned more abut their business practices, however, I’m very disturbed by what I see as an unethical value system and extremely dirty legal tactics.

Rather than standing on a soapbox and preaching some kind of foodie gospel, however, I am much more eager to encourage people to read, then read between the lines, look at both sides, and draw their own conclusions. Ask questions. Find out where your food comes from. The only way for us to truly affect change is to be well-informed with the truth — not a Michael Moore-esque scare version, but a well-balanced view.

I encourage you to read my article, The Great Food Debate: Romance vs. Reality, and share your own thoughts. This topic is one that touches every single human being on the planet, so it’s worth a bit of brain time.

How much do you really think about what’s going into your mouth?

I wasn’t at work that day. I had a doctor’s appointment. When I first heard the news I made a joke, saying “It’s a good thing I didn’t commute in.” My office was in midtown, but I knew the train schedules would be a mess. It wasn’t until I turned on my car radio that the gravity of the situation hit me. People were jumping from the World Trade Center.

I backed out of my parking spot so fast I almost hit an oncoming car, and drove home with the pedal floored to see what in hell was happening. The rest played out before my eyes. The phone began to ring off the hook as relatives called from Australia and Scotland. Every time I answered the phone, my friends and family members burst into tears. They didn’t know I was home.

My first reaction was to try and find a way to get into the city. My beloved city. But I couldn’t get in, and I couldn’t phone in. So I sat like everyone else and watched the news until I was delirious with fatigue.

Wednesday night I saw a segment on the news — the James Beard House kitchen was up and running. I left a message for my friend Shelley Menaged, who organizes the kitchen volunteers for visiting chefs. I offered to do absolutely anything they needed help with, and packed my kitchen gear to take to work on Thursday.

When she called me back, she had just heard about the staff of Windows on the World, and had been without sleep for thirty-six hours. “I’m at my breaking point,” she said. “Can you come down tomorrow and keep me company?” At last, I could do something.

I was in no way prepared for what I would see. Watching it on television was slightly more bearable, but to see the streets of Manhattan empty — to cross Madison Avenue freely because there was no traffic to be seen — was the most eerie experience I have ever known. The silence was deafening.

It was worse downtown. When I got to the Beard House I was choking on the acrid smoke, and stood in shock as a convoy of Hummers came racing down 12th street. This was like a bad movie. Even so, it had less of an emotional impact than what I would see in the hours to come.

The Beard House’s main focus through those few days was to provide meals for the doctors at St. Vincent’s Hospital (located across the street) and the policemen who were stationed nearby. Food was donated from practically every restaurant in town, and we were tripping over the supply of goods.

Every few hours someone would show up at the door with donations in hand; sometimes it was a shopping cart full of food, other times boxes of toothpaste and toothbrushes. We threw ourselves into the task of organizing everything that came in, restocking the buffet to ensure the food was always hot, and keeping a general sense of calm and quiet about the place.

Since there were so many volunteers in the kitchen, I decided to head to the dining room. There I discovered what my role would be for the next eighteen hours: I would provide comfort, a friendly face, and a warm plate of food for those who came to eat and rest. For a distraction I would give them a brief tour, showing them Beard’s mirrored bedroom and his open shower, with a glass wall as its only shelter from the outdoors. They got a kick out of that.

I fondly remember Vic, a young doctor who felt guilty that he was eating a decadent meal as he waited for patients who would never come. He loved to cook, and was thinking about changing careers. I wonder if he ever did.

I shared food stories with two detectives who would be guarding the President of the United States at sunup. The weather was horrible, and they were embarrassed that their suits would be wrinkled. They took great pride in their work, and wanted to be at their best when protecting the man in charge of this crisis.

But the policemen broke my heart. Like handsome characters from Central Casting they paraded into the dining room, with uniforms soaked but faces warm and friendly. The television was on, and as they sat down to eat, Howard Lutnick’s heart-wrenching interview came on. The officers visibly blanched as they listened to his story, and I realized in watching their faces that they were hearing it for the first time. We were seeing all of this unfold on television, but they were out there in the pouring rain, living it. In a way, it protected them from hearing stories like this. They had enough to contend with.

What affected me more than anything else, though, was the attitude of every person who walked through that front door to eat a hot meal. They were so grateful that people were kind enough to take care of them. They couldn’t believe they were eating soup from Le Cirque and sandwiches from Daniel, and thanked us profusely for what we were doing. I was speechless. I wanted to throw myself at their feet for what they were doing, and they were thanking us.

It then hit me that food is, in fact, life’s true comfort. A hot meal can lend solace when we truly need it, and providing such a meal can be the most effective way to show one’s caring for another human being. I feel fortunate that I was able to serve those men and women I will never see again, but with whom I feel eternally bonded.

I have never visited Ground Zero; I’m not sure I ever will. The faces I saw over the course of those eighteen hours told me all I needed to know.

This article originally appeared on the Atlasphere on September 9, 2004.

As summer winds down, I find myself looking for respite from the heat anywhere I can find it. Some days the air is so thick on the East Coast I feel like I need oars.

When I’m in those dog-day doldrums, I find that certain scents offer quick refreshment and make my tongue tingle a little bit — and that always makes me happy.

Simple syrups are one of my favorite ways to perk up a cocktail, a glass of iced tea, or even a fruit salad. They are easy to craft (note the name “simple”), so this is a quickie even for the novice cook. This recipe can be adapted for any kind of herb (suggestions below), so think about what your senses are craving and indulge thyself in some refreshment!

Herbed Simple Syrup

Makes about 1 1/2 cups

Ingredients

1 cup sugar
1 cup water
1 cup loosely packed herbs (basil, mint, rosemary, lavender, etc.)

Preparation

Place ingredients in saucepan and stir, then place over medium-high heat. Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally, and boil until sugar is dissolved (1-2 minutes).

Remove from heat, and let stand for 30 minutes. Pour liquid through a strainer into an airtight container and discard herbs. Cover and chill for 2-3 hours.  Can be stored in refrigerator up to 1 month.

Photo: Kelly Cline

Since last week’s Sex on a Plate post (and the announcement of my mission to help people have great food and great sex) I’ve had a lot of compelling conversations around the subjects of sensuality, sexuality and food. One of them was with a national woman’s magazine, so let’s hope I make the editor’s cut for that.

In having such conversations, of course, questions have arisen, such as “Where do I start?” and “What do I do?”

I thought I’d put together a couple of tips (OK, five of them) to share my approach to the senses, and how these actions help me to savor life on a very profound level. I recommend you give them a try and see what happens.

1. Quiet your mind. Nothing can interfere more with a moment of enjoyment than a mind that is full of worry, to-dos, schedules, etc. Take a moment to breathe. This has been my greatest challenge, as my brain is constantly buzzing with things I need to take care of, ideas for my businesses, people I need to reach out to, on and on; it’s enough to make a person frazzled. To quiet myself, I’ve committed a minimum of 15 minutes each day to sit quietly, preferably surrounded by trees and flowers, to just be. To take it all in.
2. Pay attention. In that moment of serenity (you can get there — deep breaths, people) take note of the colors, sounds, scents and textures around you. Notice how vivid the colors are in that Iris over there, or how peaceful the sound of the breeze is. Feel the sun on your face.
3. Reach down into that inner place of joy. The ultimate feeling is to revel in one’s very existence — to feel a sense of giddy happiness just to be alive, experiencing this moment. If we can take pleasure in something that simple, imagine the indulgent pleasures that can follow.
4. Engage your mental mouth. This is your inner taster. We all have one. In remembering your favorite food memories, your mental mouth pulls up smells, flavors, feelings from the past, at times when you had a perfect bite, or your grandmother’s apple pie evoked the ultimate feeling of comfort. By exercising this little guy, and by thinking about flavors, you are putting your brain to work on expanding the receptors for these all-important pleasures. I did not develop my palate passively — I taste a lot of things, see how they make me feel, store the ones I like and refer to them for inspiration.
5. Approach your food actively. Remember when you sat outside and paid attention to your surroundings? Apply that to your next meal. What colors, textures and smells are before you? Take a moment to absorb those, and note how they make you feel. Are you inspired to lasciviously dive into that dish of glistening red tomatoes? Does the soft texture of that loaf of bread make you want to play with it in your hands? These are exercises that put the mind to work — to train it to anticipate pleasure, and get you excited for the things you’re about to taste.

Let me know how you do. Or, as I am wont to say, keep playing with your food.

Photo: Lia Soscia

Last week I was invited on a little adventure to explore the Brandywine Valley Wine Trail in Chester County, PA, about 45 minutes outside of Philadelphia. At first I was surprised — I was not aware there was a wine trail in Pennsylvania. Infinitely curious and not sure what to expect, I set off with an open mind.

I’m glad I did, as this picturesque region has a lot to offer the food & wine explorer. With its 8 vineyards, the 50-mile trail is easy enough to visit over the course of a weekend, though there are other distractions that may compel you to pull over from time to time, from farms to antique shops and Longwood Gardens, built by Pierre DuPont in the early 20th Century. Given the valley’s proximity to several major cities, those in the know travel there on weekends from Washington, DC, Baltimore and New York — and have been doing so for years.

The Brandywine Valley is a mix of town and country, as you can travel out to the estate vineyards themselves or visit the local tasting rooms, often part of the town’s shopping centers. This mix is a bit handy for those who might not swoon at the sight of grape vines, and who are eager to spend more time tasting. Paradocx, Kreutz Creek and Chaddsford wineries all have such locations, while Chaddsford also features an outdoor area for live events. Penns Woods, like some of the others, has a tasting room on-site at the winery, where you can view the rolling hills of vines. Information about all the wineries, including a special events calendar, can be found on the Brandywine Valley Wine Trail site. The in-town tasting rooms were particularly convenient for me, as I also had a cooking class to attend at the Brandywine Country Cooking School (more on that in my next post).

Though I only had a couple of days to spend, I managed to sit with a number of the local winemakers, winery owners and tasting room managers to talk about what’s happening in Pennsylvania wine, and those chats will be featured in an upcoming episode of Food Philosophy. It is a region in progress: Some of the wines are starting to win regional and national awards, and from my conversations it seems that many winemakers are still trying to find the sweet spot, finding which wines work best with the Brandywine’s particular terroir. As with any wine region, it sometimes takes decades to find which grapes are best suited to a given region, and in fact, this is what makes it exciting: It offers you a chance to explore right along with the winemakers, learning how they think and discovering what excites them. Though grapes have been grown here since the days of our founding fathers, there are now varietals available for experimentation that would not have been possible for William Penn and friends.

Overall, I think the Brandywine Valley offers a conveniently-located, relaxing getaway for east coasters looking to travel close to home. Happily, chefs and restaurants have joined the party, featuring local ingredients and wines wherever possible. I had a particularly good burger at Bistro on the Brandywine, which was accompanied by a roasted golden beet salad with frisse and arugula, candied walnuts, Humboldt Fog blue cheese and white balsamic vinaigrette. It tasted as good as it sounds.

Disclosure: This trip was courtesy of the Pennsylvania Wine Association. The opinions are mine.

This is what happens when I drink first thing in the morning. We stopped in at the Penderyn Distillery, the only working distillery in Wales, which is working to revive the Welsh Whisky tradition. Keith Tench gives me a lesson in cuddling and properly sniffing whisky, and I get a taste of a VERY special brew. The dance number at the end features Tom Jones. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Note: This is a “Quick Bite” video, which is shot video blog-style. Our full HD video of the distillery tour and tasting will be released in the coming months.

A production of the Culinary Media Network.
www.culinarymedianetwork.com

If you happen to follow my Twitter activities, you may have noticed that I’ve begun a regular thing called #sexonaplate. (That little number sign is called a hash tag, and creates a Twitter stream of people’s tweets on a given subject when they add the tag.)

The original “sex on a plate” quote comes from my first manifesto, On Food and Sensuality, written in 2004 when I discovered that the pre-consumption sight and/or smell of certain foods evokes a visceral reaction in me that is so sensually satisfying, the eating is almost an afterthought. Almost.

So now I’m asking what evokes that reaction in you. What makes you swoon? Sigh? Tremble? Drool?

I do have an ulterior motive here, which has become my life’s work: I want you to eat better food and have better sex. They go together, you see.

My second manifesto is in the anthology Food & Philosophy: Eat, Think and Be Merry. My essay Food and Sensuality: A Perfect Pairing takes the premise quite a few steps further, delving into comparisons of cheap porn and bad television cooking shows — and explaining why neither is truly satisfying.

The conclusion of both manifestos, however, remains the same: Life is more satisfying when it is accompanied by sensual indulgence that is felt all the way down into the soul. It makes colors more vivid, tastes more satisfying, and lovemaking more fulfilling. It takes what might have become a daily routine and spices it up in a way that makes one feel more alive simply for being here and witnessing what is present for the senses to enjoy. If you’ve ever bathed in the scent of lavender, I think you know exactly what I mean.

But I cannot embark upon this mission alone. Indulgence is better when shared — and I would love for us to experience it together. How do we do that? Well, for starters, we need to talk about it. The conversation on Twitter is coming along nicely, and that is one spot — but there are others. Talk to me on Facebook. Leave comments here. Sniff basil leaves. Dip a piece of bread in truffle oil and inhale deeply.

Then share the experience — let somebody in on the secret.

Photo: Kelly Cline

My Twitter pal Chip Griffin from Media Bullseye wrote an article today likening social media to levels of cooking appliances, with the EasyBake being the starter model. I found the idea quite humorous, and ended up getting a little quote love. His analogy is a good one, and worth a read if you are thinking about dipping your toe into the social media arena.

In cooking, you might think of entry-level as an Easybake Oven. These much-maligned children’s toys can be used for cooking, though I have not done so myself. My lack of experience seems irrelevant, however, since someone actually created a cookbook on the subject. I kid you not. And Jennifer Iannolo told me on Twitter this morning that she “can work an EasyBake like nobody’s bidness.

You can see the full article here: Cooking Social Media with an EasyBake Oven vs. a Viking Range

Thanks Chip!

I find that nothing relieves stress better than a hot bath, and was so happy to move into my new apartment because the old one didn’t have a tub! We had a gorgeous multi-jet shower (we nicknamed it the “Porn Shower”), but oh, how I longed to soak my weary self on many an occasion.

Back in the day when I could afford massages regularly, my darling of a masseur used to recommend that I take a hot bath with lavender oil, epsom salts and buttermilk afterward to help soothe the aftermath of lactic acid. I’m not sure what exactly the combination does, but it always left me feeling rejuvenated, and I rarely suffered from the soreness typical of deep-tissue massages. And though I now have to skip the massage part of that joyful experience (boo!), I am still a huge fan of the bath combo.

Simply take a few teaspoons of buttermilk (you can also used powdered milk for this — it works just as well), 1/2 cup of epsom salts and a drizzle of lavender essential oil. Fill that tub with hot water, close your eyes, and let the stress disappear.

P.S. I’ve now also seen lavender epsom salts available in drug stores, so if you can’t find or afford the real essential oil, this does work as a decent substitute, but will not afford you the true benefits of the essential oil. You can find the oil at Sun’s Eye, where I get mine.

Posted via web from foodphilosophy’s posterous

Our kooky day with Chef Tom Lewis of Monachyle Mhor continues, as we pay a visit to his Mhor Fish location, which combines a fish n chip shop with a seafood diner, including a cooking school upstairs.

We’ll have some of his cooking demos coming up later on the “Main Show”, but this is a Quick Bite!

A production of the Culinary Media Network.
www.culinarymedianetwork.com

We go out into the woods with Chef Tom Lewis of the Monachyle Mhor Hotel in Perthshire, Scotland, to forage for mushrooms. We met him in New York, and now we’re at his place in Scotland to discover how he uses the produce that grows wild around him in his cooking.

We’ll have some of his cooking demos coming up later on the “Main Show”, but this is a Quick Bite!

A production of the Culinary Media Network.
www.culinarymedianetwork.com

I spoke a little bit about it the other day, but let’s discuss the dynamic of afternoon tea in greater detail, for it is one of life’s greatest pleasures.

The Brits and Scots have mastered the introduction of sweets and a bit of caffeinated refreshment to the afternoon, and for that I thank them. To make a perfect cuppa, however, certain rules must be followed. I’ve been scolded by my mother for not letting my tea infuse, so please don’t be foolish like me, or she might feel it in the air and come find you.

Three minutes. Do not steep for less or your tea will be watery. She gets really mental about this. Milk comes after, unless you are serving a pot of tea, in which case you can add sugar and milk to the cup first, then pour the properly-steeped tea over the combo, which helps to stir it all together. Hey, they’re nothing if not uptightly efficient in the UK.

If you are not a baker, or have no access to lovely baked goods that are decorated with swirls of whipped cream and what not, at least treat yourself to a little biscuit of some kind. In the UK that means a cookie, and surely you can find a good cookie.

So create a sweet afternoon for yourself. Invite a friend over and take a moment to share a cuppa and a biscuit. Life will taste just a little nicer that day, and it won’t cost you but a quid or two.

If you are inclined to bake something yourself, I suggest some of the following biscuits:

Lavender Biscotti with Almonds
Chestnut Caramel Pound Cake
Hazelnut & Fig Linzer Cookies

P.S. If your tea preferences lean more toward spicy goodness, see my Honeyed Chai Tea recipe. In that case, it needs to steep for at least 15 minutes, or I’ll slap you.

Posted via web from foodphilosophy’s posterous

Every woman should feel like a princess once in a while. It makes the world a better place. After our long, winding journey south from the Scottish Highlands, we found ourselves on the lush grounds of a castle, and I felt right at home. (Shocking, I know.)

When I think of romantic, bucolic settings, Knock Castle in Crieff is what I picture in my mind’s eye. Aside from being an actual castle, which comprises a certain ancient mystique, there is a sense about the place of intimacy, respite and unpretentious welcome.

As I strolled through different parts of the grounds, I found myself conjuring up little stories — the romantic in me cannot resist when presented with such a canvas for creativity. In the lush gardens, I imagined lovers frolicking among the vivid blue of hydrangea, stealing into shady nooks for hidden kisses. The grass was so soft it felt like carpet beneath my feet, and I could picture many an afternoon spent picnicking on its inviting softness.

In the summer house, where we took afternoon tea, I pictured ladies awaiting their gents’ return from croquet, or perhaps a fox hunt. It was as if I stepped back in time and into the fairy tales in my head.

Note that I haven’t even gotten to the food yet. You’re already in love, aren’t you?

I also haven’t mentioned the rooms, private cinema, spa, incredible staff or chef/proprietor Jason Henderson.

Each room in the castle has a different theme, with most leaning more toward the masculine or feminine sides. Mum and I stayed in the Lady MacBrayne suite, which is the largest on the property, and the former suite of the Lady herself. (I am *so* high on the favorite child list right now.)

Our plush suite had a sitting room, two bathrooms (one with a spa tub), and a large bedroom. The sitting room has leather couches and a stained glass-framed bay window complete with seat to overlook the grounds.

Alas, I did not get a chance to experience the spa, which I think made me die a little bit inside, but this gives me a wonderful reason to go back. Now I just need to find a prince to come with me (feel free to leave your name and address in the comments section).

I did, however, get to spend some time in The Egg. Nanoo nanoo.

And while we’re on the subject of princes, let’s talk about the king of the castle himself. Chef Jason Henderson is the owner of Knock Castle along with his father and siblings, and the personal investment they’ve made is evident in every piece of the property, from the decor in each suite to the helicopters that assist guests in getting back and forth from major cities with ease.

Jason’s approach to cuisine is the kind that speaks to my soul, and after dinner we sat down for a long chat about food, cooking, its meaning for him, and his adventures in running a country hotel. As it turns out, we both worked for Relais & Chateaux, so we spent some time talking about the specifics of country hotels, and how different the dynamic is from managing larger hotels and restaurants. Look for that discussion on an upcoming Food Philosophy, because I couldn’t resist recording that exchange to share with you. Jason is the kind of chef I only come across once in a while, and such discoveries light up my inner gastronome like a neon lantern — perhaps he’ll spark something in you, too.

His commitment to the comfort of his guests is also very evident. I’ve stayed in a lot of country hotels where the service is polite, but either a little too intrusive or standoffish. Many times it can feel like you’re living in a fish bowl, which takes what could be a relaxing country stay and introduces a dynamic of odd discomfort. It seems that Knock Castle, however, has found an optimal balance of helpfulness and warmth, as we truly felt like guests in someone’s home, but with none of the bad parts. It was also clear this was a genuine way about the place, and not simply because we were there with our cameras — these people are authentically as sweet as toffee pudding.

Our respite at the castle was all too brief, but I’m most eager to go back. I’m actually working on some ideas to take you with me next time, so if I can bring that to fruition you might just become part of my fairy tale stories!

Thanks to Jason and his marvelous staff for a day very well spent. We can’t wait to see you again.

Our trip to Scotland starts off the right way with a tuck in to a good traditional Scottish Breakfast in Inverary. We’re here to learn a bit about Jennifer’s family heritage, and we’ve brought along her Mum!

A production of the Culinary Media Network.
www.culinarymedianetwork.com

When I visited Scotland for the first time with my mother in 2004, I didn’t have so much as an inkling what my life would be like 5 years later. At that time I barely knew a certain chef named Mark Tafoya, and though I had a food blog, it was the “old-fashioned” kind, without tags or permalinks or anything of the sort.

How wonderful it feels to know that now, in addition to sharing some snippets with you from the road, we’ve also captured some of my family’s history on video, and that story can now be shared with cousins from both sides of the pond, and even those in Australia — simultaneously. We are all taking part, whether virtually or in person, in Homecoming Scotland 2009 — and you are right here with me. Do you know how amazing that feels? For the first time you’ll get to see my mom go crazy for her sweeties, and share stories about putting on her Wellies and picking fresh mushrooms after a rainstorm. She is a very special lady, and those around her know it for certain, but now I get to share her with you, too. This trip was as much about her as it was about Scotland, and though we hauled her around through a pretty tight schedule, I hope she’ll be as pleased with the results as we hope to be.

We started our journey in Inverness, where she was born, and these pictures barely capture the bucolic majesty of the Scottish Highlands. It is a land of mist and green, with the first buds of heather just starting to peek out. Soon the hillsides will be resplendent with waves of purple, but for now there is a gentle tease of the colors to come. If you ever get a chance to see it first-hand, I implore you to do so, because the sight of those hills dotted with sheep and heather will take your breath away.

The most important stop of our “Heeland” journey was in Culloden, the site of the most famous battle in Scotland’s history. The first time I visited Culloden in ‘04, I noticed that the cairn (monument) there was built by Duncan Forbes, my ancestor. I was so overcome with the magnitude of that battlefield’s history that I actually wept as I took it all in. I felt proud that our family commemorated the bravery of so many men, but was a little bit disappointed that the family name did not appear on any of the clan gravestones. This was a bit of a bummer.

What I didn’t know — and what truly blew me away — was that during the battle itself, an earlier Duncan Forbes was actually the Lord President of Scotland. This was getting good. I also discovered that members of the Forbes clan fought on both sides of the battle, but many fought under the name of the Mackintosh clan, so they were hidden in plain sight from mine eyes.

All of this wonderful news was delivered to mom and me by Hugh Allison, who joined us in full regalia (yes, that includes a kilt) to explain what happened during the battle. He even gave me a little lesson in weaponry, and I found that the swords are my kind of weapon. Of course, they do resemble knives, so that makes sense.

When we had afternoon tea at Culloden House afterward, I discovered that it, too, was owned by Duncan Forbes, and in fact housed the bed where Bonnie Prince Charlie slept the night before the infamous battle. This was all delightfully overwhelming, as I did not realize the weight the Forbes name carries in that part of Scotland. When I heard the sound of bagpipes as dinner was escorted in to the Culloden House’s guests, I did in fact get a bit misty. The sound of those pipes always stirs something deep in my soul.

Needless to say, Hugh Allison has become one of my new best friends, and he will join me for an upcoming Food Philosophy podcast to discuss the history of Culloden in further detail. We shot some video with him to give you an overview, so look for that to come out in the next couple of months. If you want to learn more yourself, you can read Hugh’s book Culloden Tales, which gives a moving account of the battle and clarifies that it was not, as many think, a battle between the English and the Scottish. As it turns out, there was a little bit of both on either side.

It is such an incredible feeling to find out where you come from. As a first-generation American I feel a little bit lost sometimes, like I am straddling the fence of three cultures (American, Scottish and Italian), but this helps to put it all in perspective, because all three comprise important parts of me. There is much more to tell, and it will all be done in due course, but I wanted to give you a little snippet of my experience so far. I also want to know if you’ve explored your roots in any way like this. Is it important for you to know where you come from? What blood runs through your veins? I hope you’ll post a comment if you’ve had a similar experience.

Now, I would be most remiss if I did not mention the joy that is afternoon tea. There is nothing quite like curing the afternoon blahs with a pot of tea served with sandwiches, cakes, biscuits and scones with a dollop of clotted cream. It’s downright decadent, and Mom dove in like a starved woman. (If it comes with whipped cream, she’s in.) The photos here are from our afternoon tea at Culloden House, which was incredibly inviting after a day of driving and touring.

Incidentally, I’ve noticed something interesting about myself in the UK, and it’s happened on the three separate occasions I’ve been here. If you know anything about me, it’s that I am a coffee freak. I live for coffee, could bathe in the smell of the beans, and simply can’t get enough. Unless I’m in the UK. Then all I want is tea, and I want many cups, all day long. I think it has to do with the chilly dampness in the air — nothing cures it like a cuppa.

I’ll try to send as many updates as I can from the road, so make yourself a cuppa and check back for more. We’re off to Wales tomorrow! You can also see more photos of our trip on my Facebook albums for the Highlands and Culloden.

In honor of National Tequila Day, I’m reposting our On the Tequila Trail video series. Cheers!

Join Chef Mark and Jennifer as they explore the Amitatan Valley of Jalisco, Mexico to discover the true soul of Tequila, from harvesting agave plants to quizzing people on the streets of NYC about their Tequila knowledge. Main lesson learned: Sip, never slam, fine Tequila.

Episode 1: The Soul of Tequila
Don Enrique Partida, who has spent his life growing blue agave, shares his poetic expression and passion for the plant. His estate-grown agave is cultivated, roasted and distilled to make Partida Tequila — and you’ll get to see every step of the fascinating process. But you won’t find any worms!

Episode 2: Rocks, No Salt – Luscious Tequila Cocktails

Episode 3: Sip It, Don’t Slam It

Episode 4: Tequila Re-Education

Episode 5: At the B.A.R.

On The Tequila Trail is a production of the Culinary Media Network (www.culinarymedianetwork.com/). Music courtesy of Talking Taco Music. Enchiladas Rojas by Frank Corrales and Ben Tavera King from Burning Desires, available as a CD and download at www.talkingtaco.com or www.amazon.com.

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