ShesparkleTV: She Said G Said

School's Out For-Evah!

noreply@blogger.com (G) — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 04:54:00 +0000

The one day in the kid-year that has the ability to rival gift-giving and candy-eating holidays in terms of build-up anticipation, excitement, and all-around awesomeness is the last day of school. Christmas and birthdays are the natural kings due to the simple fact that they're both filed with things that are (1) shiny and (2) sugary; however, the last day of school overcomes its disadvantages and earns its way into kids' hearts by being that one unique day that opens a door to three months of unmitigated freedom (Editor's note: the degree of freedom experienced by most is probably a little mitigated, but you know what I mean). But I've come to realize that as you grow up and get a job, the magic of that last day of school is lost. Most of us (respect to our readers in the EU) don't get a summer vacation--in fact, my job ramps up as the summer progresses. We find ourselves moving further and further away from the feelings we had as kids--where one day served as a gateway to sleeping in, no homework, and playing Wiffle ball in the street until it was time to catch lightning bugs. So with 5th grade teacher She's summer vacation now upon us, I got to thinking: what was I doing right now when I was that age? Fifth graders are, what, 10 or 11? What was 10-year-old G up to?

Go back to June 1994.

1994.

The end of my school year was highlighted by Field Day, which was a sophisticated inter-class all-day track meet put on by our gym teacher Mr. Brown. Homerooms competed against each other, and based on performances and points, one class would win and get a trophy. It was a huge deal! Our school didn't have a track, so Mr. Brown measured out distances and painted a track on the grass, complete with lanes. Nowadays, such an event could never happen. I'm sure someone would complain that it was too competitive (it was--with chants and weeks of trash-talking) and that the teachers were too into it (they were--methinks there was a bar bet involved?) That day, the track Gods looked down upon me favorably. I'm unsure as to whether or not Field Day still exists in the form that I know, but as of a few years ago, I was STILL the school record-holder in the 50m dash.

About a week before school got out, I got to witness something that, given the last 19/20 years and before that, the previous 54, I may never get a chance to see again: the Rangers won the Stanley Cup. For the benefit of all but the 16 of us who actually watch the sport, I'll keep my commentary relatively brief. The Rangers' run through the playoffs that year was nothing short high-drama, with the Eastern Conference Finals against Jersey producing one of the best seven-game series ever. Overtime losses here, shutouts there, a guaranteed win in the New York media, and Matteau! Matteau! Matteau! Good stuff. Anyway, Game 7 of the Finals was tense, and that was the first time I remember my mother on the literal edge of her seat (SHE got me into hockey). I stayed up way past my bedtime that night as my mom told me about watching Fast Eddie and the GAG line. The Rangers took a 3-1 lead into the third in what became the longest, most high-strung twenty minutes of my young life. Vancouver got one back, and when LaFayette rang the post with about 5 minutes left, there was a collective shriek in our house.

But then this. And this. And on June 17th (hey, that's today!), this.

On the last day of school, my dad pulled me out early to go here, and for a first round game, it was ridiculous. Italy-Norway, and my chance to see Maldini, Baresi (it was actually the game that he got hurt), and Il Divin' Cordino (whom would later send my summer into despair, but that isn't the focus right now). A fantastic game--one that I still have on VHS and will out every now and again. Cagey Italian style possession-style until they finally converted on a free kick in the 63'. Pagliuca even saw red for coming out to defend a breakaway and handling the ball outside 18 yards! Italians travel well, and to NYC, they travel REAL well. That was easily the most crowded I'd seen the old Giants Stadium (Giants tickets are expensive and the Jets are, well, the Jets). We yelled, we sang, and we learned a few words that we couldn't say in front of mom.

June 17th, 1994 also saw my routine broken. My childhood TV-viewing schedule up-ended and discarded without so much as an apology. The 17th was a Friday, and who remembers TGIF?? I remember this night vividly, and I couldn't tell you why other than I was waiting for an episode of Boy Meets World that never came. Never! Instead, I was force-fed Channel 7 Eyewitness News watching a live feed from LA all because SOME GUY was in a WHITE BRONCO.

My father didn't understand why anyone wanted him, considering he hadn't scored a touchdown in 20 years.

Date yourselves, kids. It was THAT long ago.

Question of the day: what did you do when you were 10?

G, age 10.

The Dream Of The 90’s Is Alive in Portland

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Tue, 03 Jul 2012 02:22:00 +0000

She said:
When I told my esthetician that G and I were heading to Oregon for a family vacation she was shocked I had never seen the show Portlandia. She proceeded to go into hilarious detail about her favorite clips(see video below). This was the perfect way to get in the mood for our She Said G Said Oregon Tour 2012!

Favorite stops along the She Said G Said Oregon Tour 2012 (be sure to click the links to learn more):
Portland
-Salt and Straw A fresh made ice cream shop that changed our limited grocery store flavor views of ice cream and made our taste buds explode! Strawberry balsamic with black pepper… yes please! Cough cough. The black pepper did cause my sinuses to briefly stuff up but the delicious ice cream was well worth the sniffles.
Bend/Sunriver
-Obsidian Flow Trail was an easy hike with spectacular views.
-Horseback riding at Sunriver stables
She and G pub crawl favorites:
-Deschutes Brewery was a must stop for G while in Bend.
- 10 Barrel outdoor seating, great food, better beer
Oregon Wine Tasting Favorites (I was in Pinot Heaven):
-Penner Ash
-Panther Creek Cellars
-On this blog we have mentioned Oakville Grocery in Healdsburg, CA many times! Well, we have officially found a Oakville Grocery twin in Dundee, Oregon! Dare I say we may like this place even more. Be sure to check out Red Hills Market if you are ever in Dundee wine tasting. G and I shared the Hill Farms smoked ham with spiced honey butter and gruyere cheese, roasted in the wood fired oven. OHMYWORD! We also split a wood fired pizza. After lots of silence, and devouring every last bite of our delicious lunch, we walked over to the bocce ball court where G kicked my bocce ball butt!
Salem
-Willamette Valley Cheese After a day of wine tasting, we stumbled upon Willamette Valley Cheese on the way to Salem. At Willamette Valley Cheese a large black board behind the counter lists the cheeses to sample that day. Flavors include: blueberry, horseradish, gouda, smoked, dill, you name it they have it! G bought TONS of cheese. In fact, we made a stop at Walgreens in Salem to purchase a cooler so we could haul our cheese treasures back to California. Yesterday, G made an omelet with aged sharp cheddar and we briefly relived our delicious Oregon vacation memories.

Omaha, Somewhere in Middle-America

noreply@blogger.com (G) — Sun, 17 Jun 2012 18:22:00 +0000

A question from She this weekend:

You drove cross-country seven times. In your travels back and forth from Jersey to California, what were your favorite adventures along the way? What surprised you about the United States? Any tips for those road-tripping cross-country and are there any must-see places?

That's right, kids--I've been back and forth seven (count 'em--seven) times when I was working on the East Coast and going to wine school on the West Coast. But before I go making a hero out of myself, I've gotta say that my father came along and split the driving. So in honor of Father's Day being today, I present to you "America: With My Dad."

Trips weren't so much vacations as they were relocations--either I was finishing the semester and going to work an internship or the job was done and I was leaving the winery (just in time for harvest) and coming back to school (again, just in time for harvest). I can't exactly tell you where the nation's largest ball of yarn is, nor do I have a picture of myself next to Old Faithful (which would have been cool--we just didn't go that way), but my dad and I have some tales from the road that are special to us and that we'll be telling for quite some time.

The standard route looked a little something like this:

Started in Jersey, taking 78W to the PA Turnpike where we picked up 70W to Utah. After cutting across the desert, we hit 15N and took that to Salt Lake City, where we go on 80W. Easy enough--lots of long stretches and a helluva lot of corn. I realize that we live in an age where everyone likes to think globally and that when we plan to travel, we think of going abroad. I'm all for that, but keep in mind that America is BIG...I mean huge, man. Do you realize that it's almost as far from New York to San Francisco as it is from New York to London? When I was growing up, I had the perception that our country looked kinda like this:

Everything immediately over the Hudson is Jersey, but then the rest of the country is really a void--DC might as well be in Mexico (far left) and all other places of significance are out there in the flyover space somewhere. And of all the major cities, why is Kansas City featured? You might have to watch this movie to figure that one out. So a beautiful vision, yes, but not terribly accurate. Most of this country is gorgeous, and if you get an opportunity to see it, take it.

Dad and I would usually leave on a Sunday and try to average somewhere around 700 miles a day--you go a little longer in the plains to make up for the time that you lose going through the mountains. At the end of the first day, we were in Indianapolis. I'm sure it's a great town, but it was never one that we actually explored. Dad and I would look for the Big 3 when stopping for the night: (1) Comfort Inn, (2) decent affordable gas, and (3) an establishment that served both steak and beer (not as much of a given as you may think--especially in certain western states). With our criteria satisfied, we'd leave Indy with little fanfare. It wasn't until the second day that we'd start hitting landmarks:

And, of course,

We're going to call this one "Before."

Some time right around lunch on day 3, 6 hours from Kansas City and still another 4 from Denver, my dad spotted an oasis in the nothing-ness. Call it a knack, call it the Force, call it hunger--whichever--he found his favorite Chinese joint EVER in the middle of Colby, Kansas. What made it his favorite? Selection, price ($5), location, and desire. Going to and from, we stopped there always, and we actually planned our day around it (ex. "If we leave at 7, we'll be in Colby by 12:30 for lunch"). So to the owners of the China Buffet in Colby, Kansas: I don't know if you'll ever read this tribute to you, floating somewhere in the Outer Rim of the blog-universe, but you've made us very happy.

The road is not without its share of perils, however. On our first trek, dad got stopped by a Kansas State Trooper (who could not have been a day older than I) for 78 in a 75 (I kid you not). Though we were let off with a warning, I got a few laughs in at his expense and our respect for Kansas troopers hit new lows.

Bro had never seen a last name end in a vowel before.

I'm often asked what my favorite part of the country was, and the answer is simple. Colorado. Every inch of it. Hell, even their grasslands and deserts are classy and well-kept--like they pay golf course grounds crews weekend-overtime just to take care of them. Going 70W through Denver led us here:

The Eisenhower Tunnel sends you to hyperspace.

And on the other side, we came out here:

Another favorite stop of ours was this little establishment in Silverthorne--great people and killer sandwiches...

Murphy's Irish Pub. Hit 'em up.

Came down out of the Rockies, and now we followed the Colorado River into southern Utah...

I've been through the desert in a town with no name....

Most of Utah looks like this..

Right now is where I give my one piece of advice: if you ever decide to road-trip it for a few days, make sure that you go with a buddy. There are stretches with not much to see or do and it's real easy to fall into a tunnel-vision trap and possibly go insane. No radio, either, so unless your iPod is stocked (Dad preferred audio stand-up comedy, referring to my Jeff Buckley as "noise") you'll be listening to the sound of wind for 9 hours. Did I mention conversation? Nice to have someone to talk to....especially if it's your dad. We didn't always have to talk to each other...in fact, we'd go for hour-stretches when we'd say nothing at all. But when we did, it was prime-time to talk about life or sports or family.

Dad's favorite gas station...because of its isolation. The only
game in town for hundreds of miles, and baby, do they gouge!

You like outlaws? Some cool stuff--

Robert Redford did him proud.

No wonder he hid here....it's a long way down.

Once we picked up 80 in Salt Lake City, we hit the most desolate terrain in America. That Salt Desert is no joke. Crystalline and white, it looks like snow but isn't. The reflection of the sun off the surface gives the land a weird bluish-white glow, and we got the impression that we were on another planet. No photo can do that justice--something that needs to be experienced to be fully understood.

Westbound 80 from Utah to Nevada is a missile test range and (trivia time!) the first atomic bomb was actually detonated outside Wendover, NV. I say they didn't finish the job.

Remember how I said that most of America is beautiful? Well, there are also parts of it that were never meant to be seen. Wendover is one of them. The best way that I can describe it would be something like this: have you ever seen "Back to the Future"? Marty goes back to the 50s and gets his parents to meet and go to the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance. Eventually, he comes home to the present. Wendover, however, does not. The town is an eclectic blend of EconoLodges and chromed-out D-list casinos. We couldn't leave quick enough.

Nevada on 80 is lonely (but at least it isn't 50), but we soon came close to the end of our Odyssey...

Four days, 3100 miles, a few steaks, a few beers, 8 tanks of gas....and here we are. Try it sometime.

Wine of the Week: 2009 Domaine des Malandes Chablis 1er Cru. Great, affordable top-flight Chablis for the masses. Awesome high-acid white for a 100+ degree weekend.

What I learned today: filters on your vacuum should be replaced every year.

What did you learn today?

School’s Out For Summer

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Thu, 14 Jun 2012 20:04:00 +0000

Before summer vacation officially began G and I got a little antsy and needed to get away. I was in the midst of packing up my classroom, winding down the year, and we were both overwhelmed with work. A mini vacation over Memorial Day Weekend to Occidental, CA was just the ticket to get us in the summer frame of mind. Occidental is the perfect sleepy town treasure! In between the coast and wine country you can’t go wrong with the nice people and great views not to mention I have become quite a Pinot lover and apparently the Sonoma Coast is a Pinot lover’s paradise. We drove through Napa to get to Occidental. We were in no hurry and wanted to take the roadtrip nice and easy. As a pit stop along the route we stopped by Round Pond Winery (beautiful view so-so wine) and then we lucked out and snagged an appointment at Failla Winery (one of our personal favorites). Sun roof open and a Fleetwood Mac Pandora station blaring through the car speakers, we continued on our way.

Once in Occidental, our favorite winery of the weekend was Lynmar Estates. The Pinot here was beyond!

I can’t wait to try my own strawberry and mint infused water a la Lynmar.

The fastest wine spinner around!

Here are some other hi-lights from our Occidental weekend.

On the last day of school, G’s family came in to town from New Jersey! This was the first time G’s family met my mom. In no time our families were laughing, sharing stories, enjoying routines like breakfast every morning on the patio, piling into the Honda Odyssey, mom’s sitting together in the third row of seats. G drove and drove with his dad enjoying the father-son chats. California Dreamin’ the theme of the week. First we landed in Monterey on the 17 mile drive. The cold and the wind did not deter us and the golfer’s on the greens were blown around as well. Even a bride straddling the rugged coast rocks, buffeted by 50 mile an hour wind and cold, smiled for the camera man. Some of G’s wine rounded out a picnic lunch located on picnic tables by the market. Next stop the lodge where we shared chocolate fondue and watched the golfers on the 18th hole, sipping French wine! Devine! Barbequed steaks and corn rounded out our first day of vacation fun! G’s mom sent pictures to New Jersey to share with her colleagues. We all became bird watchers as the day progressed. G’s mom had her California Bay area bird card and we helped her spot the song birds. Next day, a 7:00 a.m. departure, put us in Napa for our first wine tasting appointment at our favorite winery, Lancaster Estate. We love their wine. G presented the very gracious hostess with a bottle of 1997 Lancaster Cabernet that he found on a shelf in San Jose. The cork was a challenge, but every sip gave us pause, realizing just how well the Lancaster Wines age. When we left, our wonderful hostess presented G with a complimentary bottle. We were in high spirits as we headed down the road to Healdsburg to have lunch at the Oakville Grocery, where the best sandwiches are sold. Next stop was a feast for our eyes, no wine tour, just a table on the terrace over looking the far reaching view at Domaine Carnaros. Our 2:00 appointment at Reverie was fast approaching. The Redwood Grove and Messy, the wine maker’s terrier are just some of the finer delights at Reverie. Our tour guide was a former school principal, so my mom and I felt an immediate bond with her. Strangely enough she was flying to New Jersey that night with her 90 year old mom. Small world. Time for a fine dining experience! Brix restaurant on the highway 29 in Napa did not disappoint! Before heading home, we enjoyed the gardens in the rear of the restaurant where the lettuce, herbs and grape vines greet the guests. Sunday was a coasting day! The mom’s walked the Los Gatos Creek trail and looked for birds and shared stories. A text alert was sent at 11:00 with the news that Ridge Winery in Cupertino would be the adventure for the day! The mini van trucked up the mountain. G managed the hairpin curves, but G’s sister and Mom were not happy that the road had no guard rails. They were ready for a drink when we reached the top and the car was ready for a cool down. Only amazing wines to be had at Ridge!!! And to add to the enjoyment, there is a view of the Santa Clara Valley; off to the right, San Francisco is in the panoramma! Cheese, crackers, salad that I packed and wine was enjoyed by all at the picnic tables on the property. New Jersey request was seafood for dinner so salmon on the barby was served up by the pool. Yum. By now we have our inside jokes, we are asking G’s sister to do another hand stand each day for a photo shoot, mom’s are sharing wine out of the same glass and things are so easy and fun!!! Watching pro golfers in San Francisco was the next adventure at the Olympic Club, watching pre-US Open golfers practice for the big event. G’s aunt joined us for dinner at Sinbad’s Pier 2 Seafood restaurant on the wharf. The view of the Bay Bridge and the ferry action made the dining experience memorable! Next day was mellow, we shopped at Santana Row, where G’s sister enjoyed the upscale shops, and Blowfish Sushi restaurant. Our final meal together included sushi grade tuna along with sushi rice topped with cucumber, crab, shrimp, avacado and seaweed wrap cut in small squares (I like to call it cheap and easy She’s deconstructed sushi). California sunshine, wine and fine dining, will be calling to our New Jersey family!

Cheers from Oakville Grocery! Turkey and brie heaven!

I've Got It Bad, Sooooooo Baaaaad

noreply@blogger.com (G) — Thu, 31 May 2012 05:11:00 +0000

People of the interwebs: this is not a faulty signal. Make no attempts to adjust your displays. We are controlling the transmission...

She Said, G Said is making its triumphant return to the blogsphere!! After a brief hiatus (and, unfortunately, the end of the New York Rangers' Stanley Cup run), we've decided to ressurect our humble little blog and make it better than ever before with a new look and some streamlined features. She and I definitely appreciate our readers' (i.e. Kari) patience during our rennovation!

So let's do what we do best: ask some questions and get some answers (or perhaps rant, which is typically easiest)...

She Said: What is it like to date a teacher?

G Said: At first glance, a number of you might see that question and say "Don't answer! It's a trap!" But there's no need to worry. This blog would be nothing if it wasn't honest and transparent. And besides, I'm happy to answer. Dating a teacher, at least my teacher, is a lot like this:

Each night, I go to bed thinking about how lucky I am that I live in a world where David Lee Roth can take all of my thoughts and feelings and put them to words.

To all of you shaking your heads and fists, I understand. And I'm sorry. This blog's squeaky-clean PG-rating is now down the toilet. But really, what is it like to date a teacher? People close to me know I hate speaking in generalities, and I realize that my response (or pieces of it) may not be applicable across all of teacher-dom. While reading, it's important to remember that I'd love my teacher even if she were something completely different--like a toll collector or an accounts payable clerk (note: no toll collectors nor accounts payable clerks were consulted in the writing of this post). I wasn't necessarily seeking a teacher to date, either. It just kinda, you know, happened. And I'm happy it did! There must be serial teacher-daters out there; and if they're friends of the blog, I'd appreciate their input. However, until then I operate on pure speculation.

One of the things that makes dating a teacher so neat is that they have teacher friends, and hence anyone in that circle gets, like, eight times the exposure (still well within FDA limits). When they get together they're almost always talking about "teacher stuff," so I've had the benefit of interacting with a teacher in captivity as well as a few of their kind in the natural world. The following are a few observations I have reagarding dating a teacher...

Your teacher is more organized than you are. If one day we as a nation suddenly decided to totally scrap education and let our kids run wild and free, places such as Michael's and Staples would immediately cease doing business. Something like 90% of their revenue must be generated from educators...I mean, who else is buying color-coordinated crayon bins and personalized lunch-box holders? And Post-It Notes? Don't even get me started on Post-It Notes. You may think you use a lot (hell, I think I use a lot), but in actuality we're blips on the 3M demographic radar. How do I know that teachers are more organized than the rest of us? Because they have conversations about organization. Yeah, I know. The first time I heard one, I was scared, too. Rubbermaid was taken to a whole other level. In the classroom, everything has a home...everything has a place. You want erasers sorted by size? Got 'em.

Teaching is a thankless job, and every now and then, that's going to show up. Teachers are under a ton of intense pressure from just about every angle--their district, their state, their kids (students), the parents of their kids, and themselves. If you're currently (or considering) dating a teacher, then you need to understand that school days don't end when the kids leave. All too often, they're on working late nights (10, 11pm) and weekends coming up with ideas to engage your kids. The planning that goes into these lessons...it's unbelievable...especially at the younger grade levels. Familiar with the attention spans of little kids? If you lose them 5 minutes, the day is shot. There's no recovery from that one. But wait, there's more. What about report cards? Some of these teachers take DAYS off work just to get everything together with assessments and comments by the deadline (on top of everything else that they're doing). Speaking of assessments, the worst thing a parent can do when hearing that their kid might need special instruction is to take their frustrations out on the teacher. These people are certified, spend more time each day with the child than they do, and are trained to spot problems in just such areas. Teachers are on your side, and they're professionals. And the bureaucracy? I'm going to stay away from politics (for now, anyway) but I'm becoming more and more frustrated that hierarchy in education is not determined by merit (like every other industry or business in this country). What do you do if you're dating a teacher? You might want to find a way to make all this excessive external pressure disappear, but I've got news for you: it's not. There's not a whole lot you can do in that department, bro. There are always going to be bratty kids, brattier parents, budget cuts, and state requirements, and there are going to be days when the teacher that you're dating is overcome. Your teacher might want to retreat into a hole, take up a physical sport, cry, or, in most extreme cases, destroy something (note: this blog does not condone destroying anything). Teachers need a ton of love, and the best thing that you can possibly do is give it to them. Just roll with it...through everything...and let them know that they're doing a good job. It's terrible that there aren't a lot of people on their side, so that's where you need to be.

Teachers know how to have a good time. Back in my tasting room days I was pouring for a group of middle school teachers and their spouses who had come up to the winery to celebrate the end of the year. I got through my deal and the (I don't know...9?) of us gradually made it to the end of the bar where we talked about life and wine and told jokes for maybe an hour. Not exactly what my manager wanted to see out of me on a busy weekend-day in June, but I can write about it now since time eases all things, I suppose. Anyway, I think we had touched on wine sales and the Sideways effect and one of these teachers said, "We're teachers--we drive wine sales!" I don't know why that always stuck with me, but it did. They all enjoyed each other's company, were family-oriented, and were able to laugh and joke about themselves. All sound like good qualities to me! I comp'd their tasting and may or may not have thrown in an extra freebie because I thought that they were genuinely good people who deserved a break. Now I'm not saying that you need wine to have a good time, but it would be a lot cooler if you did! The same holds true for She's friends now--a tight-knit circle with diverse (but supported!) interests who know how to release some tension without overdoing it while maintaining a family dynamic. I like teachers.

Your teacher is going to talk about kids. When you're dating a teacher, eventually the conversation will shift to the subject of her (or his, for that matter) students. What needs to be thoroughly understood, however, is that the discussion is by no means pressure on you to advance the relationship and actually have your own. It's cool, bro--no reason to run. Speaking from personal experience, when She talks about her kids it's endearing. She really cares about them--which is something that all you teacher-daters should notice. If your teacher isn't talking about their kids outside of school, then he or she is probably in the wrong profession. So embrace the kid-talk...any day with kids is like a soap-opera, anyway--you could enjoy it! You might not know them by sight, but after hearing months-worth of stories, you'll be able to piece together personalities until you reach a point when conversation will be like this:

Teacher: Wow, I had a really long day that was complete chaos.

Significant Other: Uh-oh. What did _________ do now?

And if you're willing to talk about kids for an entire academic year, then I highly recommend taking a day off work and volunteering in your teacher's classroom. Not only do you get to be a kid for a day, but you get to see the thousands of hours of hard work that are put in so that (hopefully) the kids turn out better than you did.

Wine of the week: 2008 FAILLA Wines Occidental Ridge Pinot Noir.

What I learned today: Pauly D eats 5 apples a day. Thank you, VH1 and Jersey Shore Pop-Up Video.

What did you learn today?

You're in the 0-6-0-1-0

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Thu, 29 Sep 2011 16:40:00 +0000

Hey look! New content (you lucky people, you)!

I've been asked by my lovely female counterpart to write about guys and our relationship with fantasy football (or all fantasy sports, for that matter). The name alone is probably enough to make our female-readership cringe at the thought of missed chores, broken appointments, or, worse yet, general annoyance at the fact that the man in your life puts forth so much time and energy into something that's fantasy. Not to say that the popularity of fantasy sports is strictly a male-perpetuated phenomenon (there are always some women in my football leagues every year), but there are an overwhelming number of Y-chromosomes in these parts. So.....why?

1. Camaraderie. The best fantasy football experiences come in leagues played among your friends....high school or college buddies, co-workers, family, neighbors...whatever. The internet is the greatest thing that could have ever happened to fantasy sports--all you need to play is an email address, some form of connection (yes, even your parents' 28k dial-up will suffice), a couple clicks, and BAM...you're drafting a team in a matter of minutes. You could decide to fly solo and be placed in a "public" league (sort of the 8th grade dance of fantasy sports....the lights are on, everyone keeps their distance, and it's over relatively quietly. Or you get a bunch of your friends together (Ed. note: friends, used in this instance, constitutes anyone that you know in real life and are comfortable trash-talking) and let loose: build hype, make free-wheeling trades, leave ridiculing messages...what's not to love?? Not to mention getting together for a draft. A lot of leagues will make a day/night of it...get everyone together at someone's house, drink a ton of beer, and pick teams. And thanks to this internet fad, drafts don't need to occur in one location! I've been in the same baseball and football leagues for almost 10 years with the same group of guys, and we're spread around the world (our league manager is in Switzerland, just to give you an idea). But we pick a date and time when we can all be available (see "some form of internet connection") and do it there (Yahoo! or ESPN). She was even nice enough to wake up with me reeeeaaaal early on a Sunday morning in August for my draft--if that isn't love, I don't know what is.

2. Competition. The best part about playing with your friends is beating your friends. There. I said it. Am I horrible? Hell no. Just ask any other guy in a fantasy league. Wait, scratch that. The best part about playing with your friends is winning your league and, hence, gaining bragging rights over your friends until the next season. Ah, sweet, sweet victory. Weekly matchups carry a little more weight when you're in a private league against your buddies--take this case, for example. What phrase carries more weight? "Team Megatron has some studs at RB," or "I need to kick Rich's ass this week if I'm going to stay in playoff contention." Maybe you and your friends like to throw down some stakes or a wager...not that this blog condones gambling, but maybe you guys like to play for jellybeans (and the winner receives a whole s*&^load of jellybeans). Just makes things more fun.

3. We're going to watch sports anyway. We might as well have a hobby to go along with..our hobby. Being part of a fantasy league (if you're a responsible fantasy owner) means staying up on players and stats, and for a lot of us, playing fantasy sports is a way of validating our knowledge--like there's a good reason as to why we memorize yards per carry, batting average, or the dreaded WHIP (if you know what that means, chances are you've been in a fantasy league).

4. Finally, let's be real about fantasy sports. They're as close as we'll get to the actual sport. Ladies, ask your man what he wanted to be when he was a little kid...chances are baseball/football/basketball player was the answer at SOME stage of his childhood (my answer would be soccer player, but then again, I'm an outlier). So now that we've all accepted our athleticism for what it is (and the fact that steroids can be on the $$ side), we've moved on to more realistic goals. But that little kid in us will never go away (and all those times you get mad at us for being immature, that's just him popping out to say "hey!") and some dreams never die. So when we're given the opportunity to pick a team of superstars (and a clever team name to boot), we get to feel like the owner. We can set our lineups, bench players that we think are underachieving, and even "fire" someone because we don't like their face! Bahahaha! Now we're in control of sports, and when the players on our team do well, WE do well. We hitch our little fantasy wagons to their stars in hopes that we can make our friends look pathetic and weak (thus incurring more ridicule and smack-talk--see points #1 and 2).

Shout-out here to ESPN's "Fantasy Focus Football" podcast...Nate the Hate and TMR forever (but not you, Pod Vader).

Memories pressed between the pages of my mind, memories sweetened through the ages just like wine.

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 18:46:00 +0000

She Said: The day after the wedding G and I took a quick trip out to Dundee Oregon to visit one of G's favs, Argyle Winery. This winery also has a special place in my heart. On our second date G and I went to a Greek restaurant and this was the first time G had ever ordered us a bottle of wine. I remember the wine coming and the waitress pouring the initial sip for G to taste. The next few seconds were a combination of me watching G with both shock and surprise as he stuck his entire nose in the glass and took a big sniff, then he took a sip and sloshed the wine almost like he was using mouthwash. I remember being stunned, and I may have glanced around to see if others were seeing what I was seeing. It was clear he was a winemaker; wine was his passion, and he knew what he was doing. G gave the ok and our glasses were poured. The wine tasted spectacular and enhanced by the "second date" high. At one point, I reached out and looked at the bottle of wine. I read Argyle and then my eyes spied Dundee Oregon, Willamette Valley. My family is from Oregon. I excitedly told G the connection, how special Oregon is to me. Arriving at Argyle felt like a walk down memory lane. I must admit though, I drank A LOT at the wedding the day before and my wine taste buds were tapped out. After we did our tasting we enjoyed walking the gardens on the property.

I'm a voodoo child baby, I don't take no for an answer.

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 18:41:00 +0000

She and G's VooDoo Doughnuts Adventure

We waited in a long line, in the hot sun...please let us in.

She Said: I was totally overwhelmed. Just looking at the decadent options including doughnuts topped with Captin Crunch and m & m's; I felt sick. I chose a plain one, topped with rainbow sprinkles.

G becomes very creepy when he eats doughnuts called Old Dirty Bastard. After gorging on doughnuts, we got comfy and settled in for an entire night of Jersey Shore reruns at the Embassy Suites. It was the life. Oh, and I ate two bites of mine and called it a day.

And here are some of G's favorite clips!

I'm gonna be a mighty king so enemies beware! Well, I've never seen a king of beasts with quite so little hair.

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 18:35:00 +0000

King Estate Winery

She Said: We made it to King Estate Winery on the drive up to Albany, Oregon! I had been here last summer with my aunt, cousin, and mom and was blown away, so I knew I wanted to take G. The views of this winery are breath taking. I highly suggest if you are in Eugene to make a stop here. King Estate has a wonderful restaurant with delicious food. You can sit out on the patio sipping wine and enjoy the panoramic view. We lucked out and the weather was hot, complete with blue skies, a rarity for Oregon. The most random part of the entire King Estate adventure was while tasting G was wearing his New Jersey hot dog shirt. A family tasting next to us was from New Jersey, and when they see G's shirt, struck up a conversation. Before we knew it; their doctor was G's uncle!!! Small world.

Goin' places that I've never been, Seein' things that I may never see again, And I can't wait to get on the road again.

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 18:23:00 +0000

She Said: McMenamins is an Oregon institution. Listed as one of the top 50 largest craft breweries in the United States, over 60 brewpubs, microbreweries, historic hotels, theater pubs that make up this McMenamin empire. It is amazing to see how they take over old buildings and restore them in to works of art. On Saturday before the wedding a group of us went to eat at the Black Rabbit, one of the restaurants on the Edgefield property in Troutdale. After lunch we walked the grounds to see the distillery, golf course, gardens, and there was a line of Willie Nelson fans waiting for the concert later on that evening.

This place is a sight to see, and I am excited on future trips to Oregon to explore more locations. I must say the food at Black Rabbit was sub par. My risotto was bland. I should know better then to order a dish that G makes, setting the bar way too high. Usually I am a strict Corona Light drinker, and I rarely experiment with beers, but at lunch had the ale light Ruby. This beer was refreshing, and processed with raspberry puree to give it just the right fruity kick. A new favorite. We did check out Edgefield’s wine tasting room. This was the first time G and I had ever done wine tasting with my mom and she was a good sport and dived right in.

On our way out I was taken back by all the small details. Every traffic sign is hand painted, murals cover the walls, and the labels of beer and wine are artfully designed. I am blown away by the thought and creativity around every corner at Edgefield.

Like a river flows surely to the sea, Darling so it goes some things are meant to be.

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 18:20:00 +0000

She said: I am speechless. My cousin’s wedding was beautiful, classy, and utterly fun! The wedding venue was Bridal Veil Lakes, a setting out of a F Scott Fitzgerald book. G took meeting my large family like a champ. The wedding was filled with the sweetest memories, but my favorite had to be when the bride and groom exited the ceremony and the guests whipped out the kazoos provided, and all enthusiastically kazooed "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis Presley.

She Said: After the reception we headed to the cocktail hour. Sidecars, martinis, and apple cider were served. I first started with apple cider to "pace" myself but it didn't take too long until I had a Sidecar in my hand. The sun was shining; the guests were loosened up with drinks in hand. The Columbia Gorge view was spectacular, and the photo booth was in full swing.

G is CRAZY! I am serious. He was probably one Sidecar ahead of me at this point.

We were seated at the cousin "kids" table. A salad of baby greens with chevre, local blackberries (which were huge, sweet and juicy), candied hazelnuts and balsamic vinaigrette awaited us when we sat down.

G and I are waaaaayyyy in the back. Cheers!

She Said: After we were stuffed on filet of Columbia Steelhead salmon, which melted in your mouth, artichoke raviolis, and polenta, G and I needed to exercise it off. We took one of the canoes out on the lake. My uncle is a white water rafting expert who we entrusted to guide us along the lake and not tip us over in our wedding clothes. The water was serene, and it felt refreshing to glide my fingers along as we paddled. We could hear the jazz band playing in the back ground.

The adorable couple taking a glide out on the lake. So romantic.

One of the bride and groom's friends made all of the desserts. Pictured here is the brown-butter bourbon pound cake with caramelized peaches. Following our philosophy of divide and conquer when it comes to food, we both filled separate plates with each dessert so we could try them all.

She Said: My cousins wedding couldn't have been more perfect.

Tooty-Ta

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Wed, 31 Aug 2011 22:28:00 +0000

G Said: What are the most rewarding aspects of teaching kindergarten?

She Said: Teaching kindergarten is an acquired taste and not for the weak of spirit. Many fellow teachers have told me they could NEVER teach kindergarten and to that I groan. I was one of these teachers until I had no choice and because of a layoff situation, I was placed in kindergarten. I now whole heartedly believe that at least a year of teaching kindergarten should be required before one gets a credential. Class discipline, positive reinforcement, classroom management, and much more are learned quickly on the kindergarten battle grounds, where eyes wander to a squirrel out the window, or a student decides rolling on the carpet is more fun then listening to instruction.

I explain teaching kindergarten to G as herding cats or trying to get a group of stoned people to learn and respond to directions. Impossible. Yet kinder teachers do it day in and day out. They sprinkle magic, love, songs, and much more through out the day to reach these young minds. People frequently ask me if I like being a kindergarten teacher and also my favorite grade. I will say that teaching second grade was a CAKE WALK compared to kinder. Would I say I was born a kinder teacher, and it is the perfect grade for me to teach. Hell no! Every day is a stuggle, every day I come home and plop on the couch ready for my own nap time, and every day I worry whether am I doing it right----- Are they learning, and is it fun and excting for my students, how can that Blues Clues guy keep their attention, and I can't??? In the end teaching kindergarten has been the most rewarding part of my career thus far because it is such a challenge. I have not only grown professionally, but kindergarten has shaped me into the person I am today and for that I am grateful.

Here is my list of the most rewarding aspects of teaching kindergarten:

-Laughter! Laughter that is so pure it springs from the belly and giggles straight out the mouth. Kinders teach me to laugh at myself.

-Learning that the words 'control' and 'perfect' have no place in kindergarten nor in any persons life if they want sanity!

-A never ending supply of hugs is readily given.

-Hearing my students say they love me every day when adults sometimes have a hard time expressing these simple words.

-Visiting kindergarten blogs until all hours of the night. Kinder teachers are the most creative and gifted curriculum creators, classroom designers, etc.

-Sharing silly things my students say with G and then laughing hysterically together on the phone.

-I may not be able to solve the problems of the world let alone my own personal problems, but give me a, "He pushed me!" or "She wont play with me." or " Can you tie my shoe?" Yep I can handle that with great success.

-Everything that kinders see, touch, taste, hear, and smell is brand new and awe inspiring. Watching their amazement reconnects me with my inner 5 year old. The world is magnificent!

-Honesty. If you can't handle honesty then kinder isn't for you. I personally love it! There are no passive agressive, back stabbing, talk about you behind your back people here. Kinders are shoot from the hip, show it on their face, and tell- it- to- your- face little guys, and I love it!

-There is tremendous growth that happens by the end of the year. They come in barely able to hold a pencil and leave writing words, reading, sitting criss cross. It is amazing what sponges they are and how far a kinder teacher can take them.

-I can be as girly, pink, sparkly, polka-dotty as I want, and they eat it up!

-Accepting that it is ok to make mistakes. I teach them this and maybe it is about time I start to believe what I preach as well.

-I am one of the first educators that gets to mold them in to life long learners. Shouldn't kinder teachers get a Nobel Prize for this?

-On a daily basis I can play with Fancy Nancy dolls, build with blocks, play vetrinarean, draw hearts and unicorns, sniff play-dough, and read Disney books.

-I find it rewarding to wonder what they will be like when they grow up and hoping they will remember me.

-Who doesn't want to believe in Santa Clause, Superman, The Tooth Fairy, and Easter Bunny?

-The smallest rewards mean something to them. A sticker, earning time to play parachute outside, all are huge rewards for them; you would think they won a brand new car.

-Reading a story and having 25 faces hang on my e-v-e-r-y word. Oh and the accents and various voices I throw in are fun as well.

-Knowing life may be hard for my kinders at home, but when they walk in MY classroom they are safe, loved, cared for, needed, and listened to.

-Learning balance. In order to be energetic, fresh, and ready for a full day of kindergarten I need to make time for myself. Teaching kindergarten forces me to look at my life and priorities or else I would be holed up all day in my classroom prepping and planning all night and day.

When it comes down to it there are many times I think teaching 2nd, 3rd, 4th or 5th may be more to my liking. This could very well be true, but for some reason the universe keeps nudging me and placing me in kindergarten. It is as if the higher powers are saying--- this is where you belong for now; you need to get more in touch with your inner child, loosen up a bit and not be so rigid, roll with the punches, and laugh at your self. I am slowly succumbing to this better me, and each day is a new opportunity for me to make a mistake, color outside the lines, fall face first in the glittery kindergarten world, and just be a kid. And yet as I sit here typing all the rewarding parts of kindergarten, I begin to realize will these little kinders ever realize just how much they impact my life? They show up on my doorstep the greatest gift of all, wrapped and packaged in boogers, shoes that flash, whines, whimpers, squishy cheeks, pinks, blues, rolly polly bellies, wiggly feet, Disney lunch boxes, goldfish breath, sticky fingers, toothless smiles, barbie bandaged knees, lipstick kisses from their moms and you know what?!?!?! I love it all!

Oh Lord! Stuck in Lodi again.

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Wed, 31 Aug 2011 19:59:00 +0000

This weekend G and She set out on a Lodi wine tour. First stop Michael David.

Although the names of the wines were catchy: Incognito, Heavenly Chards, 7 Deadly Zins and the labels were eclectic the wine was sub par.

G said: Big extracted Lodi style. If you love Lodi wine it could be for you. The whites struggle. Wasn't impressed. Quixote has ruined me for Petite Sirah. Although for 18 bones a bottle it may be for you.

This particular label is the exact replica of the seismograph reading from the 1906 San Francisco earthquake.

Outside on the grounds, there was a beautiful you-pick garden filled with dalias, zinnias, and sunflowers. We even played a game of bocce ball. G kicked butt as always. Never challenge an Italian stallion to bocce ball; you will lose.

Next stop m2!

This place is a diamond in the rough that is in dusty Lodi! A must stop. Michael Perry the pourer is as knowledgeable as they come. There are no pretty views, no flashy artwork; this place is down and dirty warehouse style. Take it or leave it.

G Said: Quote of the day, "the 07 Petite Sirah pulls up a lazy boy on your pallet and parks there." Really impressed with wine making here; there is actually a sense of place in the wine. M2 seems to be ahead of the market in predicting the rise of mediteranean varietals such as Albarino, Temparnillo, and Verdelho. The wine wasn't high alcohol or RS it was actually wine not candy.

Lane, the wine maker, we did not meet, but he is supposedly quite the story teller. Hopefully we will see him next time. We will be coming back for sure.

G getting the back stage tour and nerding out.

Next stop Peirano Winery. She was in heaven because chips and salsa were paired with the wine.

G tries hard to look creepy in pictures or maybe he is just sad due to the horrible wine?

Blasé. Ok, so their wine 'The Other' has broken through and made its way to Costco. The pourer was celebrating this; unfortunately, our taste-buds weren't. Overly raisened was the consensus. In fact all the wine tasted the same. Our last taste was the cab a #2 best seller. Not impressed; just an Ocean Spray cranberry bog of a wine. Our pourer ended our tasting with Barbera and came right out and said how bad it was, but great for sangria. Personally who wants to end an already bad tasting with the worst copper penny smelling wine. Blech! Come on, this place should be embarrassed.

G tip: Any time you walk into a winery and they are blowing cases of their wine on sale for $28 think red flag.

On the way home to Modesto to fire up the grill and make burgers.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 21:37:00 +0000

She Said: What is harvest like? What are the highs and lows of harvest time in wine country? What goes on behind the scenes? How can the ordinary person be involved or participate?

Here it is...Harvest Eve 2011. After a cool wet spring across most of the state, temperatures rebounded and, so far, California has managed to stay dry and (knock on wood) fire-free. Heat data in the Central Valley is almost identical to last year, and cooler sites are actually ahead of where they were last year at this time (in terms of growing degree-days). The early June rain threw most growers for a loop, and most of the cooler regions (see Sonoma, Napa, Mendocino, Lake, etc) were experiencing bloom at the time. As you may guess, heavy rain, high winds, and fragile flowers don't mix, and in the end, something had to lose. Some growers were more unfortunate than others, and early-blooming varietals experienced lousy berry-set--hence, their crops could be lighter come harvest. If you were in the Central Coast, then you know all too much about the April frost. Out of respect, it will never be mentioned again. But most of the state has caught up in the last month with respect to ripening and heat, and those grapes that are left on the vine look great. 2010, while not a bad year (in fact, I'll argue that it was the opposite), presented challenges that many California grape growers and winemakers had never experienced...namely a cooler than average season and WAY above-average rainfall. The season was very un-California. Strange weather caused some people to do strange things, like pulling basal leaves from vines with the idea that exposed berries will see more sunlight and ripen more quickly. Now why is that a bad idea? In developing vines, basal leaves are the largest, and therefore the most photosynthetically-active during the growing season. At a point during the mid-summer, green growth (shoots and leaves) ceases and all the vine's energy is diverted into ripening fruit--the berries become a sink for photosynthetic products, which are sugars. Removing basal leaves removes the main sugar-manufacturing stations from the vines, and during cool years, the berries need all the sugar that they can get. Not only is ripening delayed, but the fruiting zones of the vines are fully exposed to the sun, leaving them in danger of burn. Burn, you ask? Oh yeah. Grapes get sunburned just like your Irish cousin. And in late August 2010, that's exactly what happened. A string of 100+ days scorched California (102 in the Russian River Valley), and all of those exposed berries got fried on the vine.

But this is the year 2011! So much we've all learned from the pop-quiz that most of us failed last year.

Our first loads are due to arrive this coming Wednesday morning, at which time Santa Claus will come down the winery chimney and leave Pinot Gris (which is destined for a program that I'm not permitted to reveal). Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonnay, and Muscat will begin to hit at the end of the month and carry us through September. Valley Pinot Noir is looking to be ready around mid-September, while the stuff that's actually worth a damn is currently in the early October timeframe. Syrah, Merlot, and Cabernet Sauvignon will load up the month October; and come Halloween, we'll be seeing rain in the forecast and the final harvest push will end just before it gets wet and harvest is over. That's the season in so many words.

But what really happens? It's a world that not many are privileged to see, but if you're a friend of the blog, you have an inside track! Like right now...

If you caught my Santa reference earlier, you might have the idea that I look forward to harvest like a kid looks forward to Christmas. What I love the most about it is the fact that there's only one chance per season to execute a plan, so everything--all those ideas, all those months of developing a playbook--need to occur in a very very finite period of time. If you fail, you miss your chance for another twelve months (and, more often than not, you'll receive and earfull from whoever signs your paycheck). So you gotta show up with your A-game every morning...there's none of this leeway for someone like, say, Jay Cutler, who can throw five picks on a Sunday afternoon, get benched, and then quickly forget about it in preparation for the next week (where he'll probably throw another 4 along with being sacked more times than I care to watch). In the wine business, for a LOT of small producers, there is no tomorrow. Do you enjoy pressure and long hours? I might have a job for you!

To give you an idea of the kind of long hours to which I am referring, here's an outline of my first harvest shift of 2010....

9:45 pm: Report to winery to write compliance work orders for the night's receiving and make coffee.

10 pm: Write work orders. You can probably assume which task got highest priority.

10:30 pm: Radio cellar team leads for a truck update. They haven't heard anything yet, and I'm not surprised.

11:15 pm: A co-worker and I square off in a YouTube contest in which we have to show the funniest video. I pull a Trump and win with the Bedroom Intruder song.

12 am: Radio to the cellar draws no response.

12:40 am: Pot #2 is on. My eye-in-the-sky reports fruit within the hour.

1:30 am: The first truck arrives at my facility--press-cut Pinot Gris. Pump it out and we're underway.

2 am: Begin gross solids removal from juice.

4:57 am: Write work orders for fining-agent additions and start the clock on the required juice contact period.

5 am: Begin fining-agent adds

6 am: Begin removal of fining solids, make oatmeal, check fantasy baseball standings for the morning.

10:30 am: Calculate yeast additions.

10:40 am: Scour the winery for the correct yeast strain.

11:15 am: Pitch yeast starters to tanks--now we're making wine!

12 pm: Reinforcements arrive. Lay out expectations for the afternoon.

2 pm: Shift end. Limp home to bed. What was that...16 hours?

And I live for it. Every second of it. From August through December, each day is spent on this unbelievable high--the ultimate state of wired. You find yourself breathing heavily when you realize that your body can't keep up with all the thoughts in your head. You may only get one or two good nights worth of sleep in a week, but to me there's plenty of time to sleep in November.

The low point in the season is when you hit the stage of physical exhaustion. Cleaning, lugging heavy hoses and pumps, deadlines, early deliveries, and paperwork take their toll, and right around October 10th everyone becomes a shell of irritability. By then, no one wants to muck out the press at 3 am because they're soaked and tired and cold (and you can't expect being inside a small metal tube in the dark to be all peaches). You really have no clue about the physical and mental strain of harvest until you've been there...

If you're interested in experiencing harvest for yourself (if my last paragraph didn't turn you off forever), there are actually PLENTY of opportunities for the lay person to get their hands dirty (literally). True, there are wineries out there that offer "Be a winemaker for a day" events. And they're cute and they give you a glass of wine and you're usually done by 3. If that is the kind of experience that you seek, then go for it. Think of it as harvest with training wheels. They'll bring out bins of reject fruit (probably the stuff with a high enough percentage of rot that the winery would never ever use for wine) and put it in a bucket for you so that you can take off your shoes, roll up your pants, and have the time of your life. You don't need to stay up all night picking, nor do you need to fill out weigh tags, sort berries, clean equipment, troubleshoot, perform all necessary laboratory analyses, and plan for the next day and/or week. Easy-peasy. Oh! And your event is catered! And they'll give you free wine!! And you can get your picture taken! Not that I would ever do a day like that, nor would I recommend it to someone legitimately interested in wine; however, I will tell you that such an experience can make for a good party or a fun date.

If you're serious...like, REALLY serious about learning how to make wine, most wineries (especially the small ones) are more than happy to take volunteers for the day. If you don't mind all night shifts or early mornings, you can pick a few tons. All you need is a knife or pair of pruners and a good attitude (picking is repetitive and sometimes tedious, but face it, it's necessary). We pick at night because cold fruit is less susceptible to breakage and infection by bacteria or mold (it's also easier on the crews not to be out there in the heat of the day). If the winery wants you on-site, chances are you'll be on the sorting table picking out leaves, shot-berries, and generally anything that looks nasty before it has a chance to go into the fermenter. You might also be asked to clean this and that, and the winery will most likely provide you with lunch and beer (it does, in fact, take a lot of beer to make wine). They may also give you a bottle or two as a thank-you (because free labor is always appreciated). But by volunteering, you'll be able to pick brains and ask all those sound-silly-in-your-head-and-may-be-afraid-to-ask questions and find that they aren't silly at all. As long as you show a genuine interest in what you're doing, winemakers will explain our whole world to you! We're good people like that.

The best way to contact wineries looking for volunteers is through either Facebook or Twitter. They'll post harvest updates fairly regularly, and there's your opportunity to offer your services. Can't find your favorite winery? Give them a call and sell yourself. Unless it's a large operation, the chances of you being turned down are incredibly slim.

[caption id="attachment_224" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Harvest in Napa, 2009. I guess someone has to do it."][/caption]

Question of the day: What was the hardest job that you've ever had?

Sincerely, though, thank you so much for reading. Wine is my passion in life, and I love everything related to it. If you have any questions at all regarding any part of the business, where to buy, or just want ideas on new wines you haven't tried before, I promise all of you that I will take time out of my day to answer all of them.

Until then, later, kids. And Happy Harvest '11--I hope you were good this year.

See the time we shared it was precious to me, but all the while I was dreaming of revelry.

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Sun, 14 Aug 2011 10:26:00 +0000

She and G...the ultimate kidnappers!

Today we kidnapped mama She and whisked her away to Napa for the day. When whisking someone away to Napa , the first stop ALWAYS must be Oakville Grocery to pick up lunch.

G made an appointment at Reverie Winery for 11:00. Our host, a retired police officer, wowed us with his knowledge. We laughed when he said he used to arrest drunk people and now his mission is to get people drunk and loving wine. We tasted in the cave. Tasted in the redwood tree grove. Then we ate our Oakville lunch with a bottle of Roussane and waited for the oyster tasting. Unlimited BBQ oysters with parmesan and chipolte peppers made by the oyster guy were divine! www.oysterguy.com

Fully stuffed on oysters we headed to our next appointment at Outpost on Howell Mountain Road. This place is a must, MUST visit!!!!

We chatted with both wine hosts who were incredibly knowledgeable. We are hoping one will be a guest post on this blog and tell of cross country stories from Philly to Napa stay tuned... Anyone who travels cross-country to immerse themselves in wine is fascinating. We purchased the Grenache and a Zin, both 09s, and tried the just-bottled 09 Cab...still inverted and shocked, but a blockbuster.

Dinner was at Hurley's in downtown Yountville. Food is not Bottega or Rutherford Grill worthy. Bland tastes but ok.

Great day!

Working 9 to 5

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Thu, 11 Aug 2011 09:28:00 +0000

G Said: How do you deal with difficult coworkers?

She Said: Fresh out of college, I was bright eyed and bushy tailed ready to enter the working world. Visions danced in my head of being a working girl, and I imagined the crazy, funny, amazing coworkers awaiting me. I envisioned my working girl life would be a little like this...

and I would sing this song on the way to work...

and my teaching coworkers may be something like...

Michelle Pfeiffer would give me tough love.

John Keating would mentor me.

Jack would be workplace comic relief.

And working next to this would make me look good!

I was excited to jump in and meet my cast of co-workers.

After a couple of years in any workplace, the honeymoon stage is over. One tells immediately who is and isn’t pulling his/her weight in the workplace. The coworkers with the extreme political or religious beliefs are not afraid to voice opinions, and one avoids them at lunch. Getting sucked in to gossip, cattiness, and water cooler talk is unavoidable. Again one must pick which group with whom to align, and it feels like high school all over again. And hopefully a friendship will develop, which moves beyond the walls of the job. These people have your back and will remain friends even if you leave the workplace.

The rose colored glasses I had when I started my first job are long gone. In my short career I have cried when I found out coworkers were talking about me behind my back. And yet, I have made lasting friendships. Some coworker friendships fizzled and resulted in Facebook “de-friending”. Some co-workers have mentored me and generously shared professional tips, ideas, and I am grateful.

Here are some tips I have for dealing with difficult co-workers that I have picked up over my career thus far:

-Always have positive presuppositions and give coworkers the benefit of the doubt.

-Be up front and tell a difficult coworker how you feel. Listen to their point of view, and background information may help explain the difficulty.

-Walk in their shoes. One never knows what could be going on in someone’s personal life that may affect them at work.

-Vent

-Buuuuuuuut make sure you vent to friends and family not associates and maybe decide a place away from work.

-Take some days to enjoy your lunch in peace and quiet. Then you will have more energy to face the days when the difficult co-worker eats next to you.

-If a co-worker is your friend, but only spends time with you at work, maybe reconsider: Is she/he really a true friend??? This is a red flag! Trust me, down the road this could turn into a difficult co-worker situation. Don’t be surprised when times are tough, this person is not there to help.

-Decide what Facebook co-worker philosophy works for you. I have some friends who have two Facebook pages one for coworkers, and one for other friends. This way their professional and personal life can be kept separate. This is really smart move.

-Do what you love. A difficult co-worker should never come between you and your career goals. Find a career passion and focus with determination.

-Swallow pride, and target the co-worker’s good-side. Kill them with kindness. Office drama is gone, and good Karma prevails!

-Help them. If a co-worker is disorganized, help them organize. If someone is technology challenged, teach them.

-A boss needs to know. Let the boss know your intentions to build a cohesive team, and ask for his/her expertise as an outsider perspective. Set up meetings with the difficult co-worker and the boss can act as mediator.

-Get competitive. Challenge the difficult co-worker to a waste paper throwing contest. When you kick their butt, it provides great satisfaction!

-Watch movies or TV shows, which focus on the work place, maybe your situation won’t seem so horrendous. (The Office, The Devil Wears Prada, Bridget Jones Diary, 9 to 5, Office Space)

-Find your inner child and turn on the imagination! Think of your work place as the hottest show that hit ABC. Who is the Dwight to your Jim? Create clever names for the person who sits next to you. Do you have a McSteamy in your midst? Think what your viewers would want. Keep your ratings high. And viewers happy.

-Finally, go the extra mile for your favorite co-workers. Plan outside work happy hours and karaoke nights, take them to lunch, bring them a cake for their birthday, and make sure they know you are appreciative. These people are your difficult co-worker life preservers!

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She said G said readers do you have any difficult co-worker tips or stories to share?

Tramps like us, baby we were born to run

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Mon, 08 Aug 2011 23:17:00 +0000

She Said: With the premier of Jersey Shore, let's honor the blowout, get our fist pump on, eat some frickles and make it a chicken cutlet night. Kick back after a long day of GTL and have our in-house Jersey boy answer this: What does a Jersey boy far away from home miss the most about the Garden State?

G Said: I have a California driver's license and a job that really can't be done on the same level anywhere else...I'm here for good. That being said, as much fun as the west coast is, there are some facets of life that are just better in Jerz. I'll do my best to prevent this post from becoming a rant, but I'm not making any promises. So nuke your pork roll, call your ma, and get a tan for chrissake. Here's some culture for you...

1. The food. Joe Pantoliano (seated at left table) said "You know you've spent too much time in California when the food starts tasting good," and frankly, I couldn't agree more. If your a friend of the blog, then you're already aware of my stance on west coast pizza. No sense in beating a dead horse there. But really, someone show me an honest-to-God butcher out here! Just for kicks, here are Google search results for NJ butcher and CA butcher....look at all the locations! And California doesn't even have enough to show the little map-thing! All I want is someone who knows how to use a knife that gives a shit, and instead I've gotta wait on line at Save Mart and hope that the guy behind the counter can give me the right kind of tasty, tasty animal. The same goes for deli's. While Californians seem to be catching on (perhaps they consider them to be a "hip trend"), their efforts are slightly...off the mark (though well-intentioned). Let's go back to the grocery store line, only now we've walked 10 yards or so and we're standing before a glass counter of pre-packaged lunchmeat. You like pastrami? Great! Me, too. Let's get some. There's your standard sandwich-slice (pictured ever so beautifully), or you can get it thinner. I tend to stick to slightly thicker out here because whenever I say "thin," those with the slicers hear "shredded." Fail. And if you want proschoot (or prosciutto, for those unfamiliar with the NJ-Italian dialect), forget about it...that's exactly what I want...shredded ham for $20 a pound.

2. The Shore. The Jersey shore is like Vegas, but with more attitude and none of that wedding nonsense thrown in. Most of the attractions date from the '30s or '40s, and my father would tell me stories about when he and my aunt used to go down the shore to the exact same spots my sister and I would hit. While a little more built-up, their identities are essentially the same. Though crowded, the shore provided something for everyone...families, college kids, grandparents looking to read a book, or even people looking for trouble. But the beautiful thing about these towns/sociological case-studies is that all factions seamlessly co-exist. There might be some rifts within (like tourists or bennys), but on a greater level, they recognize the necessity of other groups to complete the shore-ecosystem.

But what do I miss? Seeing The Boss at the Stone Pony. Disco fries. Boardwalk fights (which consist of a guy and twenty of his friends against another guy and twenty of his friends). Asbury Park at dusk. The Sinatra House. Wildwood--all of it. DJais. Iconic places. Seaside Heights after the prom. And yes, even AC.

3. Winter. And I'm not talking about "the rainy season," but actual snow and ice. The area where I live now can be categorized by two distinct climactic phases--hot and dry, and cold and wet. Right around April (though it seems to get later and later every year), the rain magically stops and we're in for a nice long growing season (great if you're in the wine business)! The summer weather is also FAR more reliable here than where I grew up, and even I have a tendency to take outdoor plans for granted. Some words that are heard extremely rarely in California: hurricane, rain delay, humidity, sausage and peppers (oops, that's not weather-related).

But back to winter. I enjoy shoveling snow, which is sick but true. I went back to Jersey for Christmas last year and was up at 4 am so that I could shovel my parents' driveway (for those interested, I volunteered). Hell, I even like that twisted-yet-excited game created by swarms of cars on icy roads. You might be thinking that if I really miss these experiences, then I could always go to Tahoe or something. They have snow there, and I could always get my fix. And while that theory looks good on paper, it lacks one essential core principle: I like it when snow comes to me, not when I have to go to it. I smirk to myself when I see people plop down hundreds of dollars on a January weekend to live like my parents...like NJ Fantasy Camp. However, come Sunday night they can all fire up their Priuses and return with cameras full of memories to their snowless homes. Idealized and sweet, yes, but what they lack is the lifestyle created by winter --experiences that I will never take for granted.

I'll be your engine driver in a bunny suit, If you dress me up in pink and white, We may be just a little fuzzy 'bout it later tonight

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Tue, 02 Aug 2011 21:29:00 +0000

She said: Off we headed this weekend for an Oregon road trip adventure, destination my cousin’s wedding. G had never been to Oregon before, so I was excited to show him around and introduce him to my family. We hit the rode early (7:00 a.m.) thanks to G, and we only made two quick stops; determined to make it to King Estates Winery before the Albany River Rhythm’s concert at 7:00. This was our first road trip together and the driving time flew by. We took in the beautiful scenery of Shasta. We played the license plate game. We sang to Counting Crows, and I am still amazed that we both know essentially every song and every lyric of this band. The only time G and I get a bit tense during road trip adventures are when GPS, directions, and finding destinations are involved. I admit I am incredibly directionally challenged and G is a bit stubborn. He hates the GPS, and I can’t live with out it. Google maps on the phone is unreliable because service often goes out. I believe in stopping when lost and asking for directions; G, not so much and would rather back track. So what is a couple to do: conflicting direction-finding beliefs, finding destinations on windy roads, missing signs that are barely visible, and knowing no specific landmarks? We try to be patient. We get really quiet. I send a few prayers up. And in the end we succeed, albeit I am usually frazzled and sweating profusely. We hug it out and move forward.

G Said:

I never want a GPS. You know how they say "never say never"? Well, I'm saying never.

We all have personality quirks. Maybe you can't leave the house without your lucky hat; or maybe whenever you eat peas and mashed potatoes, you don't like your food to touch. I, for one, genuinely dislike the sound of robot navigation. And you can argue with me all you want about how you can change the sex and nationality of the voice to something more exciting or pleasing...that doesn't change the fact that I've gotta sit there and be bossed around by this device when there's a perfectly good person (in this case, She) in the car with me (and I would MUCH rather listen to her). My sister has one of these. She changed the narration to the eastern European guy and has since named her GPS "Gustav." Because of proximity, my encounters with Gustav have been limited, but let me tell you that he has all the technological abilities of an old Soviet spy satellite. He'll send you down the wrong exit, or the wrong way up a one-way (which actually happened to She and I this weekend), but he'll get you there....with enough patience.

Please refer above where She calls me stubborn. She could not be more accurate.

I enjoy a puzzle and a chase. I'm a problem-solver by nature and, given a few ideas, can usually figure things out and don't want to be fed an answer when I'm so so close. So what does that tell you about me? That I'm a man. I'm fully aware that, like, 95% of our current readership is female and I'm setting myself up for all kinds of comments and eye-rolls; however, I'm standing by character traits. Feel free to call me a "typical male" down below this post, but remember that I give out bonus points for originality.

If our biggest issue is the handling of directions white driving, I think She and I are doing pretty well. Like she said, she's more the "stop and ask" type, while I'm more the type to take in my surroundings and seek something out. But that works! We always get to where we want to go. So in it's own bizarre way, the universe works itself out. And you know what? Driving is a very small part of life; and with the right company, it can still be a good time (even in a stressful situation).

Now, if you wanted to get me this kind of droid-navigation, I wouldn't be opposed.

Oh and one final picture from the end of our road trip day. We made it to the gas station just in time.

What is your couple style regarding driving and directions?

If there is a load you need to bear, That you can't carry I'm right up the road, I'll share your load, If you just call me.

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Mon, 01 Aug 2011 12:22:00 +0000

Today She and G are starting a new series on our blog. On Monday and Thursdays we will have Q and A She and G style. On Mondays G will ask She a question which she will answer and on Thursday She will ask G a question. Here we go....

G Said: Just how important is meeting the family?

She Said: In my case meeting family is a multi dimensional process and a bit untraditional. The two most important family members in my life are my mom and my closest girlfriends. As an only child I yearned for brothers and sisters that never came so over the years my close knit group of girlfriends became my sisters. My family in Oregon is also an important piece in my family makeup. These three parts of my family patchwork are incredibly important for a boyfriend to know them, respect them, and appreciate them just as much as I do, or relationship simply would not work.

In my life so far, my mom and I are two peas in a pod. We have battled together through some rough storms and come out on the other side together and stronger for it. My mom is not judgmental and sees the best in people. She has never told me who I can and can't date and she trusts my instincts and knows I am a good judge of character, so a boyfriend I bring home to her must be something special. It is critical my boyfriend meet my mom because of the large role she plays in my life. I talk to my mom everyday. My mom is my confidant, best friend, mentor and much more. She is an intricate part of my life so inevitably becomes a part of my boyfriend's life, as well. On occasion I want to be able to go out to dinner, wine taste, travel, and hang out with my boyfriend and mom together. This can only happen if all parties get a long. And who are we kidding, those who know my mom know she is the easiest person to get to know. My friend once said any man who has your mom as their mother in law is the luckiest guy in the world. I believe this.

My girlfriends offer more of a discerning sisterly eye. They are the ones who have helped mold my personality and know me inside and out. They have been with me along the road of heartache and breakups. They know what has worked and what hasn't worked. They have seen my vision boards of my hopeful future and heard all about my goals when it comes to life and love. These girls delicately carry my soul, and I value their opinion and thoughts greatly. Just like my mom, they trust that I expect quality, and are happy if I am happy. Some of them are also not afraid to speak their minds and let me know their true thoughts about who I am dating. My girlfriends are my family, and it is extremely important to me for my boyfriend to appreciate and love them just as much as I do. When I vision my future, I see my friends as a huge part of holidays, summer vacations, house parties, my wedding, my children's lives and much more. If I have a crisis or problem in a relationship I may turn to one of these respected girlfriends to provide a non judgmental ear and offer advice to strengthen my bond with my partner. Introducing a boyfriend to my "friend" family is a big step.

I am a firm believer that if your family is skeptical of who you are dating and has strong opinion, it deserves consideration. They know you, love you, and are removed from the situation, so can offer a unique outsider perspective. I worry for anyone that turns away from family and isolates themselves. Their partnership becomes their everything, and may expect their partner to meet their every need. This is dangerous and toxic.

And finally there are always family members who provide a challenge. This may be a family member with whom you are feuding, a family member who is toxic to your life, a family member who is an alcoholic, or does drugs. When in a relationship one wants to present a positive image, and introducing a partner to this kind of family member may be too difficult. Once trust and understanding is established with your partner, the difficult introductions may happen. From my own experience when the right person comes along, they simply understand and proceed without judgment. They hold your hand through the pain, council you when you need advice, are patient if you need time before introducing them, and are able to separate you from the situation and love you regardless.

G has met the many parts of my family including my mom, some of my close girlfriends, and this weekend he met my amazing Oregon family! I am so grateful that he has such a willing attitude, a smile on his face, and that he fits right in.

Oregon Family!

My mom and I being silly.

Just some of the girls...

"Families are the compass that guide us. They are the inspiration to reach great heights, and our comfort when we occasionally falter." Brad Henry

Let us know your thoughts...How important is meeting family to you when it comes to your relationship?

Sandy, the fireworks are hailin' over Little Eden tonight

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Wed, 27 Jul 2011 01:20:00 +0000

Loma Prieta Winery

She Said:

G and I hit this winery on a perfect blue sky day. The views of the Santa Cruz mountains are amazing and worth the windy drive. Unfortunately, we were not able to snag a seat outside or play bocci ball because of the weekend crowd (thumbs down). Of the wines I tasted the port was my only favorite. Most ports are too sweet for my taste buds but this port hit the spot. The flavor reminded me of oozing cherry cordial insides. Our jovial pourer won his way in to my good graces by pairing each wine with hershey's chocolate, salami, and dark chocolate. Although most of the wines I tasted fell flat I will definitely go back. I am a sucker for a good view what can I say.

G Said:
I judge a winery based on the following criteria:

1. Quality product. Not just one or two that you really like, but the whole line-up. Anyone can make generic wine...take in all your fruit, process it all in the exact same fashion, and blend accordingly. Show me individual, lot-specific attention that highlightsdifferences and unique qualities. With that in mind...
2. A quality second-label or lower wine. It's easy to make a $100 bottle--buy well-farmed grapes and try not to mess it up. But if a winemaker can take lower-level material and turn that into something head-turning...that takes real talent.
3. Knowledge of the staff. Having a winemaker or someone associated with production (for me) is always best, because I ask a ton of geeky questions and will pick a brian or two. But a knowledgeable tasting room attendant is worth his or her weight in GOLD. Hear that, wine industry? Train your staff and hold them to a standard. And quiz them....for the love of God, quiz them often. And have them taste around to get a feel for the competition and identify how their wine fills a market niche. There are wineries who are good about it (and it shows!), and I realize that not every visitor is going to grill the pourer; however, upping the level of general knowledge can only serve to benefit.
4. Vision. How does the winery see themselves within the business, and how do they plan to move forward? What is their winemaking philosophy? Do they cut corners with equipment? Where do they see themselves in 5 years? 20 years? The answers usually separate those in the business who are there to show off wealth and those who really care.
5. Price. Does price = elitism? Yes and no. The ultimate question is "Is the wine worth it to you?"

Notice how I didn't say anything about grounds or fountains marble walkways or a gift shop. I could honestly care less. Not that I don't appreciate a good view or a dog or romantic scenery (yeah, I said it. Bring on the comments), but it doesn't influence my opinions on the wine. I'm not fooled by the showpiece...so to all those with $$ to display...your efforts are wasted on me.

Loma Prieta? To me, it's a showpiece. They went for the whole "Tuscan-villa" design, and they nailed it. It looks great--I don't want to take anything away. They're also at the highest elevation in the Santa Cruz Mountains appellation, so on a clear day you're able to see the ocean from the top of the vineyard. Hell, I dig a good view. The wine, though? Bland and uninspired. The Viognier (a varietal that I love) left too much to be desired...aromatically-challenged and criminally thin. Cab and Merlot were nothing to write home about; however, they did do a Pinotage (only 105 tons crushed in the state of California in 2010--but that's up from 82 in 2009). It was decent...a little overripe, but decent. I recommend them for an afternoon--find a day with your friends and head up there to spend some time. But if you're looking for ground-breaking wine, try this instead.

Later, kids.

Runaway train never going back...

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Sun, 24 Jul 2011 05:18:00 +0000

G and She said: We kidnapped this "victim" who will soon be Taiwan-bound for an adventure. We texted her at 8 inquiring what she was doing for the day. When she said she was free we got an idea

and drove her to SLO...

First stop Gus's sandwiches!

Then there was a mini sketchy stop at Avila Farm. G liked the dwarf ponies but She was apparently very frightened and grossed out by these creatures.

Next was Avila Beach bum time.

The "victim" brought ouzo!!!

Then we headed to the Spyglass Inn Restaurant for a Mai Tai

And Firestone beer and a Pina Colada!

And there were oysters, calamari, and avocado egg rolls.

Then there was sex on the beach enjoyment. We just wanted to sit and take the ocean view in.

And once the drinks had settled the eclectic Madonna Inn was a must see. What does pink throwing up look like? The Madonna Inn.

At this point we were pretty tuckered. G was "mother tuckered." But we couldn't pass up some

Toffee Crunch Cake. Which was instant sugar high and impossible to stop eating.

We danced to such hits as Mac The Knife and the Pink Panther soundtrack. Kari had an admirer Jessie who she danced with a couple times. He was a "professional dancer."

G said She said tip: Kidnap a dear friend and hit the road. Take an adventure and make some
memories.

What a life it would be/If you could come to mine for tea/I'll pick you up at half past three/We'll have lasagne

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 04:43:00 +0000

She said:

The first time I laid eyes on Food Network with chef Michael Chiarello of the show “Easy Entertaining with Michael Chiarello”, I was smitten. His dark eyes, warm smile, and Italian charm would make any female fan melt. I DVR his show just so that when I come home from a long day of work, plop on the couch, turn on the tv, he is there welcoming me in to his Napa kitchen. This weekend I did not have to resort to Michael Chiarello DVR couch surfing, instead G and I dined at his restraunt, Bottega, in Napa Valley.

Unfortunately, we did not have reservations, but I spotted a couple at the bar signing their bill and knew this was not the time to be shy or casual. I walked right up, made small talk with the wife, asked her to give me a signal when they were going to get out of their seats, so we could swoop in. “Great idea”, she said, but why not just take them now? G and I were bellied up to the bar in 5 minutes flat. Upon sitting, both G and I had instant restaurant ADD. Our eyes darted back and forth while bar tenders poured $45 a glass tequila, waiters and waitresses hustled about with steaming platters of culinary eye candy, and the thought that was on both of our minds: Is Chiarello in our midst? G ordered us a bottle of wine and like ritalin it mellowed us food geeks out some. The menu deliberation begins. G and I have a very simple unspoken rule about ordering as a couple: Never order the same thing. This way you get to taste two very different dishes from the menu and really feel like you had a well rounded dining experience. My pick was the house made rigatoni, tomato braised Sonoma rabbit sugo, caramelized mushrooms, with house- made ricotta. The rigatoni was perfectly al denti and held up next to the rich sauce. The ricotta cheese on top was not overpowering, and when mixed in gave the sweet caramelized mushrooms a nice softness. This was my first experience with rabbit and I was pleasantly surprised at the tenderness. The consistency reminded me a lot of duck.

Meanwhile, the Chiarello adventure loomed big in my mind. I left my meal a couple of times to “use the restroom” which really meant poke around and see where Chiarello may be. There he was with his back to me on the food line, plating. I stopped in my tracks, and as if in slow motion, saw him wipe the rim of a plate and lick his fingers. Some may say this was a rabbit rigatoni induced mirage, but here’s hoping he did the same exact thing before my plate was served. By the end of the night it looked like he was not going to come out to the bar area and socialize. When all my hope was about gone, I spotted him out of the corner of my eye talking with the hostess. I flew out of my seat. We made eye contact, and my desperateness was quite evident, “One minute, sweetheart, and I will be right with you.” I stuttered out something like, “I adore you. Will you come take a picture with me?” I lead him through the bar, and he got bombarded. I lost him to two woman and an iphone. Eventually he made his way over, and the three of us posed. Somehow my camera was on timer, so we stood smiling while the camera just flashed. After multiple takes, Michael was good natured, and I was mortified. In retrospect it, just meant I a longer time in his culinary presence. Next, he signed a Bottega bar napkin and was on his way. The night was magical. Award winning food, great conversation with fellow bar eaters, a night with G, my own personal Italian stud, and an audience with my favorite celebrity chef .

G Said:

I'm quite comfortable with the fact that I've lost my girlfriend forever. Don't believe me? Take a look for yourself.

My exact words to him were, "Chef Chiarello, you're a God. This is really an honor." You know how you have those moments when you're totally incapable of intelligent thought/speech? Yeah, that was one of those...but in retrospect, I probably would have said it again! Even managed to throw in a, "By the way, big fan of your label."

For those interested, Chiarello's grapes come from his own land and the wine is made by Thomas Rivers Brown (Schrader, Outpost, Maybach, Rivers-Marie, etc). Brown is a legend in his own right, and if you get some time, I highly recommend taking a listen to an interview he gave in 2009--he has every right to have a massive ego, and is instead of the most down-to-earth in the business and incredibly soft-spoken.

Chiarello is, in his own way, partly responsible for my position in the wine industry today. When I was in college and thinking about med school, I had this half-serious plan-B for when my plans didn't work out and, invariably, I would need a new direction for my life. In my apartment kitchen one night, I decided, should my hopes be crushed, that I would open my own restaurant. I partnered up with my buddy Jared and we do dinner for our wing of the building and whoever else decided to come by...usually on Tuesdays or something. I had a decent share of failures, but I was learning and I was happy. So later on when school started, I was cutting class watching PBS (because that's what the cool kids do when they skip class--don't judge) and Chiarello was on talking about wine. At the time, the only thing I knew about wine was that I could legally buy it and in my narrow world, Kroger had a good selection (I now know this to be factually incorrect!) If I was going to pursue my culinary destiny, I thought it would be good to know something about wine. I bought old outdated copies of Wine Spectator from the Kroger shelves (which they NEVER replenish) and just read. Just sat and read and absorbed. Most of the time, I had no idea what the hell I was looking at....one of the first issues I bought was all about Germany. And when you're clueless with regards to wine, German geography, and have no grasp on the language, you're not going to get very far (I still have difficulty with the labels, but the numerical codes are helpful). But whatever....I didn't care. I was too caught up, and couldn't get enough material to read. You can talk to some of my college friends--I'd bring my magazines to dinner, and to class, and to track meets. Yeah, that's right. In between races while my friends took naps, I was nose-deep in an article on why 2002 was a shitty growing season in Italy. Can you see an obsession growing?

It did.

I never went to med school.

So if She wants to run away with Chef Chiarello, I really have no issue. When she first bit into her rabbit, I think I saw her eyes roll back. I went for the pan-seared gnocchi with English pea fonduta--equally impressive! Not over-filled (which can be a problem with restaurant gnocchi--more is not always more) and just the right amount of sear. You know...a touch...a kiss....perfect. And dessert? Panna cotta with pineapple gelatini. I believe She's words were, "I'm not usually a dessert person, but tonight, I'm glad I was." See? Believer = made.

And a lesson of the night...something to experiment with in your own lab on your own time: you can get almost anyone to open up just by asking their name.

Have a drink have a drive, go out and see what you can find...

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Tue, 19 Jul 2011 02:26:00 +0000

She Said:

Although G and I did not consult a word of the day calendar on Saturday, it was clear that the word ‘foresight’ was Saturday’s buzz word. G received an invitation back in March to a day of picnicing,wine tasting, swimming, and much more at a winery, which I have decided to keep nameless. This winery is only open a few times a year, and it is so fabulous that it needs to be shrouded in mystery. I had no idea what to expect. When we parked the car and walked towards the grounds, my mouth literally dropped when I spied the view.

How could this exist after that long, windy, dusty drive into nowhere? We set up our picnic by the man- made lake and ate our Oakville Grocery sandwiches (my favorite is the turkey and brie), drank some wine, and watched kids play in the water and wine lovers around us laugh and soak up the sun. G and I felt like we were at an elite wine summer camp. The glistening water, redwood tree groves, and cool breeze, was too good to be true. At 2:00 all the wine camp members gathered at a special spot for the commencement of the tour. We were led by the late, vineyard owner’s/ creator’s stepson who was a wealth of information. His stories about his step-father were inspiring and the buzz word “foresight” kept popping into the narration.

Here was a man who started his career in pharmaceutical sales and at 47 decided he wanted a career change so turned to the Napa Valley. He bought 80 acres of land for as little as $100,000 in 1968. He was told by many that this was a huge mistake and that the land wasn’t even fit to grow a radish. His foresight told him to ignore the naysayers. He smuggled Cabernet Sauvignon vine cuttings from Bordeaux by way of Tijuana. He had no idea the acres he purchased would have three different types of soil and microclimates that would make for a unique Cab growing experience. His bottle of Cab was the first California Cabernet to break the $100 a bottle mark. He focused on Cab and never looked back, taking a huge chance. In addition,he had a 23 year battle with Parkinsons disease, and didn’t let it get in his way.

As the stepson unraveled these facts through out the tour, I was mesmerized, and it especially hit home with my current state of job uncertainty. How does one trust one’s gut instincts, throw out one’s routine life and leap forward, embrace a career change and go for it with total determination? I struggle daily with caring what others think, and here is a man who heard from the peanut gallery and went the exact opposite direction and was a raging success. Not only was he a wine visionary, but his vast property is also a foresight-seeker”s haven. Only a true visionary would see acres of forested land and think let’s build a huge man-made lake, waterfalls, a lagoon, a messy bog turned swimming pool, truly a sanctuary of national park quality.

The wine was entirely too expensive for young’ns such as us to purchase, but we snagged an empty tasting bottle on the way out for posterity sake. And as for foresight, I think it is fickle. Everyone has it, but do they embrace it and throw caution to the wind and just embrace the visionary urge? Probably not. I feel especially sad for us 20 somethings, all bright eyed and bushy tailed, fresh out of college with tremendous debt, a failing economy, no jobs, and other such tales of woe. I for one am going to tuck this wine memory in my back pocket, and when foresight knocks, I will answer!

G Said:

Whenever I find a bottle or a place that I really like (and I know that your tastes are similar to my own), I'm quick to recommend. However, the name of this particular winery will have to remain nameless for the time being. That being said, the Google-savvy will probably be able to piece together clues and come up with the location. If you're serious about your wine and your history, you'll understand that this winery is a Napa institution. They've been producing since the early 70's and have maintained their growing and winemaking philosophies to this day.

I've been a fan of these guys since I started in the business. I was fortunate to have a '94 Volcanic Hill, and was hooked. I'm up in Napa, well, a lot (and for that, I'm incredibly grateful), and for a guy whose tastes tend to gravitate towards tobacco-y, leather-y, asparagus-y Bordeaux, the wine is the most Medoc-like that I think California is able to produce. She mentioned French Cab clones, and that is only partly responsible for the flavor profile. Other factors include rainfall, weather, row orientation, soil type and depth, rootstock, vine age, temperature...to name a few...you get the idea. So French vine does not necessarily equate to French wine (pay attention, Central Coast Pinot-makers).

With regards to vine age, I'm a firm believer in the school of thought that older vines yield more complex wines. After a vine is planted, it will begin giving fruit suitable for wine production after three or four years. Young vines such as these tend to give a more fruit-forward style; and as they approach, say, 7-10 years of age, their production (call it pounds of fruit per vine) escalates and plateaus. After 10 years, their productivity dips and will eventually settle on something relatively low. However, grapes from older vines tend to reflect the characteristics of the site on which their grown. Hello, complexity! Their wine had it in spades--even had developing tertiary aromas after only two years! I'm amazed....name me a so-called top-tier Napa wine that can claim that.

You're looking at a view from the top of Red Rock Terrace overlooking the Gravelly Meadow Vineyard. If you take a comparative look at the three sites (Red Rock/Grav/Volcanic Hill), the Red Rock Terrace bottling will become the most approachable first. While still aromatically tight, the wine is incredibly complex and focused with balanced cassis and juniper, along with some nice smoked pastrami and a well-integrated oak profile. Delicious. The Gravelly Meadow (my personal favorite) is very Graves-like, which I dig. Lean at first take, but still waters run deep. Definitely built for the long-haul with a firm tannin profile, but seamlessly balanced with with acid and one hell of a mid-pallet. The Volcanic Hill had some intense tobacco action and the Diamond Mountain-structure that I love so much. Keep in mind that everything we tasted were 2009s out of barrel, pre-bottle.

Definitely hitting up the open house weekend for years to come, and without naming names, thank you to all those who made our visit the incredible day that it was--I've always appreciated your wines, and the through your wine and hospitality, you've made two fans for life.

Thank you, Al. Without your foresight and values, Napa would never be what it is today.

Honey, you are the rock/upon which I stand

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Mon, 11 Jul 2011 00:50:00 +0000

She Said:

I am not one who will pick up the phone and call someone just to chat. I text, I check email and facebook a gazillion times a day, and I put calling people on my “to do” list and then feel tremendous guilt when I don’t make this happen. I would rather see people in person even if it means driving hours. Luckily, I have the best of friends and no matter how much time has gone by, when we finally do see each other, it is like no time has passed. Now this is all well and good except for a long distance relationship. G and I live an hour and a half away. We work during the week and see each other on the weekends. We talk on the phone almost every night. We are on the phone sometimes an hour and a half to two hours a night. This boggles my mind. We are definitely not shmultzy (my terminology for those couples who banter back and forth with pet names and shmoopies, and “no, you hang up. no, you hang up....” not how we roll) We talk about our days and the people who have shared the day with us, things in the news, stories from our past, our take on shows we are watching, and shoot the breeze. Sometimes one person yawns, there may be a few long pauses, lots of laughter...and sometimes a nugget of wisdom surfaces from deeper conversations.

6/7/11 Nugget: Both of us are going through tremendous job transitions. This is not always pretty, and when you are newer in your couple-hood, you want everything to look positive, fresh, put your best foot forward so to speak. This facade does not last forever, and thank goodness! Last night I compared G and I to....I believe my exact words were, “you know that thing with the balls that clicks back and forth.” Immediately G knew what I was talking about the Newton’s cradle. This cradle I am sure is surrounded by physics and gravity and stuff frankly my mind would explode in knowing, so I won’t fake it. All I know is those balls move. One of the balls hits the others and the one on the opposite side pops up. And it goes back and forth. A person stares at it for hours and the movement is calming. And then without explanation when the ball clicking stops, the ball is pulled back again to see the simple all over. In a relationship I think when one person is down, the other pulls out of their own ego and life and listens carefully. This is one ball being pulled back maybe two if it is a doozy issue. Then the listener lets go some thoughts, perspective, questions to start the momentum going. Hopefully nuggets come out of it, both people feel better, and both start moving back and forth. The next time the roles may be reversed, but the principle remains the same.

G Said:

1. An object in motion remains in motion until an outside force acts upon it.
2. Force is the change in momentum per change in time, assuming constant mass.
3. For every action, there is an equal, but opposite reaction.

So focus on #3. Clacky-clack balls are a great example. Pull one back and let it go, and on impact one ball from the opposite end will be expelled. Now pull two and let them go...two balls from the other side move. Or, for another example, picture yourself standing on the ground...you can be wherever you want. For my example, I prefer to be someplace like here or here--but you're more than welcome to have your own. Anyway, you push against the earth with force exerted downwards (a product of your mass and gravity), while the ground pushes up on you with an equal, but opposite force. If you're sinking or floating, you crazy kid--how'd you pull that off??? But if you lack super-powers, you're staying where you are. Easy, right? Word. The same principle can be applied to relationships.

Without going into the gruesome, She and I are both going through different job-transition scenarios. And to be honest, The Man is in various stages of keeping us down. An outside force? Perhaps. But remove that guy from the equation, because frankly (and this is something that She helped me to realize) the degree to which external forces bother you is entirely mental. So is it really worth it to be angry at someone or something that cant be changed? No. So for the last few months, we've each had our share of lousy days (Ed. note: if anyone says that they only have good days, please check their papers, because that is a liar-liar-pants-on-fire situation) and She and I have traded off serving as each other's earth. See? One of us pushes down, and the other one pushes up to keep that person grounded. It's an awesome system, and I definitely recommend trying it if you can--the only catch is that you need to find the right person. So be judicious! People who are happy with themselves, are empathetic, and have a solid core of values work best...and you can work from there! Not everyone fits the bill. And it's not like we're negative by any means, but She and I are good at preventing each other from taking on a defeatist-attitude...as long as we both keep trying, eventually something will work in our favor. While that mentality can be difficult to maintain in a seemingly-endless sea of rejection, the only sure way NOT to improve one's situation is to do nothing at all.

When The Moon Hits Your Eye Like A Big Pizza Pie...

noreply@blogger.com (She (Sprinkle Teaching Magic)) — Thu, 07 Jul 2011 00:28:00 +0000

G Said: I hate my oven. This fact must be thoroughly understood. With that being said, on with the show!

I come from a land where pizza runs wild and free like herds of African animals...where thin crusts are un-adulterated by such "modernist" and "fusion" toppings such as buffalo chicken, carnitas, or, the worst offense of all, pineapple and ham. I'm a hard-line traditionalist who appreciates the beauty and the simplicity of what, essentially, is peasant-food (and there's a lot of pride behind that). California Pizza Kitchen, I'm officially putting you on blast. Behold perfection.

Another point of pride is being able to make it at home--you know, the real way. From the ground up. Growing up, the typical Saturday saw my father starting the dough around 2 while watching golf. Now, I've taken what I've learned and run with it--I've got my own plan and my own routine, but the love is the same. And now I got to share it with She, who was a champ! What impressed me the most was how quickly she picked up "the move" (keep it clean, this is a family show)--fold, press, quarter-turn, repeat. Dough-kneading at its finest. Seeing her so willing to get her hands dirty is, of course, a huge bonus! She sure makes it look good. Oh, and she may worry about her yeast rising, but I taught her to keep the water warm and to throw some sugar in there to rehydrate...works every time.

Back to the oven--I set it on broil, but it seems as if it won't go above 450 F...not cool when you need 550/600 for a good crust, so we needed to make do with what we had. And if you suggest a stone, I'm way ahead of you. Even have a peel. Booyeah. But even a nice slab won't make it hotter in there...definitely need to build that outdoor coal-burning oven...then need to buy a house to have a back yard to put it in.

She Said: I have never made pizza from scratch before, but when growing up, this was a regular family tradition for G. When he suggested a pizza making night, of course I said, yes (fyi: if a handsome, Italian man says he will cook for you and teach you how to make authentic Italian food, you must always say YES). I must admit I had some reservations. Yeast intimidates me, and first time cooking experiences can tell a lot about your couple style, both good and bad (friends have warned me). Will one person be the messy cook and drive the clean cook crazy; does one cook follow the recipe and the other not, even the flow of moving about the kitchen may pose a problem, will you bump in to eachother or get in each others way? All of this could be a couple- kitchen nightmare... fortunately, cooking time with G is nothing but relaxing. When Italian food is on the agenda, Frank Sinatra is played, wine is poured, flour sprinkled all over the counter, hands get dirty, and childhood stories are shared. We even managed to squeeze a game of wiffle ball in while the pizza sauce was cooking and Clue while the oven was heating. As I took a bite into the steaming sausage pizza we created together, of course every one of my tastebuds resonated with deliciousness but to me what meant more was all of the other non-traditional ingredients thrown in.