San Francisco Bans Bottled Water For City Workers (Plastics 2 / Humanity 0)

“San Francisco Bans Bottled Water for City Workers.” That was the title of a news brief I read in which San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom issued an “executive order banning city departments from buying bottled water, even for water coolers. The ban goes into effect July 1, and will extend to water coolers by Dec. 1. The move was billed as a way to help stem global warming and save taxpayer money. In a press release announcing the decision, the mayor cited the environmental impact of making, transporting and disposing of the bottles and that more than a billion of them end up in the state’s landfills each year.”

I read this news brief and it reminded me of my blog entry (Plastics 1 / Humanity 0) where, in the Comment’s section, the suggestion was made that bottled water is as bad for our environment as plastic bags are. I had never even considered that before and as a bottled water consumer since I was in diapers in the 70s, I wanted to learn more.

It seems that a quick Google search will return thousands of articles discussing the petroleum usage associated with the manufacturing, transportation, distribution, and disposal of water bottles. This has been something that I have given very little thought to and have taken for granted…I’ve always considered these bottles to be an innocuous and convenient part of my life: I was wrong. I have been walking around with my brain turned off to this.

With more and more city and local municipalities taking measures to curb the use of bottled water, clearly the environmental impact of this specific refuse warrants action and the case for reducing the consumer-nonchalance toward plastic bottles seems to hold water.

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Estimates suggest that the manufacturing and transportation per each single bottle of water requires the use of:

• 6-7x the amount of water as is in the bottle;
• 1.0 liter of fossil fuels;
• 1.2 pounds of greenhouse gasses released into our atmosphere.

With 12-18 bottles per case, you do the math.

Champagne: Not Just For Celebrations, Special Occasions, And New Year’s Eve

People often ask me what wine goes best with what food and depending on how playful I am feeling at that moment, sometimes it’s just less effort and more fun to say: Champagne. Sometimes the reaction is well worth the simplicity of just saying that one word, especially when I am rewarded with a reaction of both shock and bewilderment.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not messing with people when I tell them to reach for the Bubbly: Champagne is one of those wondrous potable art forms, which in the hands of an artisan, can make for a fabulous (yes, I said fabulous) treat for your senses. It’s just too bad that people so rarely drink it.

I have often told people that Champagne is not just for celebrations, special occasions, and New Year’s Eve. I can’t think of another form of wine that goes better with Mexican, Thai, Chinese, Indian, or eggs-dishes better than Champagne. And why wait for that “special occasion” to open that bottle of Bubbly, when in fact, the opening of that bottle IS the special occasion?

For the uninitiated, Champagne comes only from one province in France named Champagne. If it comes from anywhere else, even other parts of France, it’s a Sparkling Wine. While sparkling wines from France, California, and Italy (think Asti spumante) can be as delicious, none provide the elegance and subtle experience that a true Champagne can deliver. In this case, a name is much more than a name; it’s a badge of quality.

Believe it or not, Champagne is one of those simple food-and-beverage catch-alls. You can serve Champagne with just about anything you would pair a wine with, and have a delightful experience. Try pairing it with cheese, desserts, steaks, fish, sushi, burritos, pasta, chili, hamburgers, potato chips, and ice cream—but please, not all at once. I dare you to try that with a stiff Californian Chard or a tannic Australian Shiraz!

In spite of my exuberance, my early experiences with Champagnes were generally less than gratifying and I didn’t come to appreciate Champagnes until my late-twenties. However, upon reflect, it’s no surprise I didn’t care for it. If you received it for free at a brunch buffet, it’s probably not that good; and with Champagnes/Sparkling Wines—specifically—the range of quality and experience can differ dramatically from one end of the spectrum to the other. However, that is not to say that to enjoy Champagne, you need to spend a lot of money.

True (French) Champagnes start at about $25 for a full bottle (700ml) and $14 for a half-bottle (375ml). I make sure to always have several half-bottles on hand for meals that I make for myself and find that having half-bottles around enables me to enjoy Champagne at whim. For example, last night I made a very spicy, vegetable stir-fried rice and opened a half-bottle of Moet & Chandon White Star ($18) which was a perfect marriage of spiciness and crispness resulting in a balanced flavor structure: the food softening the Champagne and the Champagne cutting through, and abating, the spiciness. Having the half-bottle made all the difference as I would rarely consider opening a full bottle by myself; and splitting a half-bottle between two people can be an unexpected way to enjoy Champagne as an aperitif at home as well.

A brief word to Champagne novices, despite what you’ve seen on television, opening a bottle properly calls for a whisper when the cork is released, not a pop, and most certainly not an explosion. You aren’t in a locker room and you aren’t trying to break a new air-speed record with the cork, nor do we want our golden Bubbly streaming liquid-gold all over the place (that’s fodder for another blog).

So next time you are in a pinch for a good wine experience, but don’t know what to serve: try Champagne. It doesn’t have to cost an arm and a leg and it will likely add to an experience you will remember for a long time.

Recommended Champagnes:
Moet & Chandon White Star
Veuve Cliquot (Yellow Label or Grande Dame)
Taittinger Brut Cuvée Prestige Rosé (A splurge, but if you are looking for something truly special, a Brut Rosé Champagne can add to the visual appeal of your meal without imparting a syrupy-sweet tang)

The Road Less Traveled: The Green Fairy (Real Versus Fake Absinthe)

I have been spending a lot of time in New York City again, and enjoying the city’s nightlife in various bars and cafes. I am always up for trying new things and have been known to drink the occasional “Versinthe” or “Absinth” which is the only legal version of Absinthe one can legally be served in any bar in the United States. While I tend to be an advocate of tradition and would have preferred to have the real stuff, I can’t expect something that I can’t have. With that said, I drank my Versinthe and it enjoyed it just fine.

Absinthe, in most of its incarnations (even the fake stuff), contains at least some Anise, which is what gives it its famous louche. Anise has a black licorice flavor, which is something for which I have never much cared; I have tried many anise infused drinks and rarely enjoyed them. So I can’t tell you my surprise when I enjoyed drinking the Versinthe. It was flavorful and rich and while it contains a high percentage of alcohol, it lacked the unpleasant burn associated with highly alcoholic potables. I was inspired.

I am a curious soul; enjoying the Versinthe, I felt compelled to discover what the real thing would be like. Add to the fact that real Absinthe is illegal in the U.S., and it only added fuel to the flame of interest to get a bottle of this notorious spirit.

Fast forward many months; I have been getting more and more into real Absinthe. I started with a bottle of LaBleu Clandestine from Switzerland and was nonplussed by its rich, smooth, and delicious structure; I was hooked. The Versinthe I used to enjoy couldn’t even compare to La Clandestine. Being hooked, I had to reach out and sample more of what the Absinthe making world was producing. I next sought out a bottle of Verte de Fougerolles from France. It’s soft green color, like a rich olive oil, was mesmerizing and it louched with an opaque and lovely pale, lime-flesh green.

I came across a passage by Marcel Pagnol as written in The Time of Secrets and I thought it was worthy of reprinting here. It’s a description of the absinthe ritual as it was ‘back in the day’:

“The poet’s eyes suddenly gleamed. Then, in deep silence, began a kind of ceremony. He set the glass (a very big one) before him, after inspecting its cleanliness. Then he took the bottle, uncorked it, sniffed it, and poured out an amber coloured liquid with green glints to it. He seemed to measure the dose with suspicious attention for, after a careful check and some reflection, he added a few drops.

He next took up from the tray a kind of small silver shovel, long and narrow, in which patterned perforations had been cut. He placed this contrivance on the rim of the glass like a bridge, and loaded it with two lumps of sugar. T hen he turned towards his wife: she was already holding the handle of a ‘guggler,’ that is to say a porous earthenware pitcher in the shape of a cock, and he said:

‘Your turn, my Infanta!’

“Placing one hand on her hip with a graceful curve of her arm, the Infanta lifted the pitcher rather high, then, with infallible skill, she let a very thin jet of cool water–that came out of the fowls beak–fall on to the lumps of sugar which slowly began to disintegrate.

“The poet, his chin almost touching the table between his two hands placed flat on it, was watching this operation very closely. The pouring Infanta was as motionless as a fountain, and Isabelle did not breathe.

In the liquid, whose level was slowly rising, I could see a milky mist forming in swirls which eventually joined up, while a pungent smell of aniseed deliciously refreshed my nostrils.

Twice over, by raising his hand, the master of ceremonies interrupted the fall of the liquid, which he doubtless considered too brutal or too abundant: after examining the beverage with an uneasy manner that gave way to reassurance he signalled, by a mere look, for the operation to be resumed.

Suddenly he quivered and, with an imperative gesture, definitely stopped the flow of water, as if a single drop more might have instantly degraded the sacred potion.“

Sante!

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“Today, modern absinthes are often marketed in conjunction with the so-called Bohemian absinthe ritual. This is not a traditional method, but a modern innovation inspired by the success of popular culture, trendy bars and the such. A shot of absinthe is poured into a glass, and a teaspoonful of sugar is dipped into it. The alcohol soaked sugar is set alight and allowed to burn until it bubbles and caramelises. The spoon of melted sugar is then plunged into the absinthe and stirred in, which usually sets the absinthe itself alight. Ice water is then poured in, dousing the flames. This method, has become increasingly popular, especially since it was shown in the film Moulin Rouge, but is a historical travesty, and would have horrified any Belle Epoque absintheur.“

-European Production Absintheur