Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Two new reds worthy of adoration...

For all of you red wine fans (and I do use the term "fan" in the traditional sense--an abbreviation for fanatic), I have lately found two Napa Cabs that are absolutely wonderful.

First, Larkmead 2005 Napa Valley Cab. With just enough fruit to keep me interested, but not so much that it would lack sophistication, it absolutely explodes on the palate with a long lovely finish of vanilla and rich buttered toast. For me, the finish is one of the most important aspects of a wine, but the nose is also critical. The nose on the Larkmead is absolutely intoxicating. Wonderful rich vanilla--and as it opens up it's almost like buttercream frosting. I just don't know what else to say about this beauty except that I currently have an inventory of 16 and I am just frantic that one day I will have none left... I imagine that this will cellar beautifully, realizing it's best at around 2013 or so. Bottles are about $60 each, and worth every buck.

Next, Chappellet Cabernet Sauvignon 2005. At $45 a bottle, this drinks as good as any $200+ cab that I've ever had. Again, fantastic nose--to me it's got a lot of vanilla but then I also get a lot of hazelnut which contiues to open and open and open... A good amount of fruit on the palate, but again, not too much. Lots of layers and lovely complexity which ends in a long toasty hazelnut finish.

Give them both a try, you won't regret it!

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Thoughts for the Season

In the middle of rushing around during this last sacred week and a half before Christmas (sorry I reminded you) I found a wonderful post entitled "What Makes Me Feel Safe" that I really enjoyed reading. This for me captures the essence of what really matters. You can find more of Sidney's posts at www.wildchihuahuas.blogspot.com.

Sidney writes:

Tonight I try to count my blessings and give thanks from down deep in my heart. For me, this season is about shedding the failings and the woes of the year just passing, about cleaning out the closets and cupboards to give what I no longer use, and about opening my soul, praying that I will notice all the miracles yet to come. That's what a Christmas tree means to me. It stands for the gift of the Created Universe in all its simplicity, in all its splendor and complexity, in all its richness and fecundity and nourishment.


If I can just feel that, feel my organic connection to all that unutterable Wonder, I can't help but think myself richer than any Wall Street princeling ever thought about being.


Then I can't help but stop the whining that marks the days and nights of so many pampered Americans as we willfully fixate on all the wrong places--annoyances of download, overwhelm of shopping, tedium of life's marvelously automated chores, and fits of traffic. We're a marvel, aren't we, we simpering, spoiled sacks of arrogance. All it takes to see the truth in that is to glance for just a second at the world around us.

Music makes me feel safe--Wyndham Hill's first Winter Solstice album, for instance. Its minor key summons cold medieval cloisters with candles all alight and warmth somewhere inside. It conjures new, warm bread, a rabbit stew, a bit of story-telling, a smoky fire, a round of red wine, and a moment of peace.


Roasted potatoes make me feel safe. Actually, potatoes in any form make me feel safe.


A bead at the neck gives me joy, especially if I've made it with my own two hands.


The kindness and welcome in my beloved's face when she smiles at me, even now, after all these miles and all these years.


A very small Chihuahua who chooses to snug in the small of my naked back in night's darkest, stillest hour restores my aching, bedraggled soul.


Memories make me feel safe--gossamer thin though they may be, but oh, don't they circle and circle in the quiet of an evening to give reassurance that one's life perhaps has meant something important, albeit small and fleeting, to this or that one here and there?


My memories call up scents and colors, touches and sights and sounds and whole living moments. Resurrections, I call them, and they grow more precious the older I get.


That one frigid Taos evening, adorned with the last roasted chicken in the whole dark town, a six-pack nestled in the snow outside the low-hung window, and a couple of Santo Domingo turquoise necklaces draped on the mantel above a mesquite kiva fire in our bare, spare little adobe.


That green fiberglass and varnished timber Old Town canoe, and my father's scent of clean, sweaty male, marine motor oil, fishing tackle, cigarettes, and the Tennessee River. How could I have had any idea, at age ten, that I was in the presence of the Divine--whatever That is?


The twinkle in my late lovely mother's dark brown eyes as she tried in the worst way to sing a hymn with the best of them, or as she appeared around the kitchen corner to host us with dry roasted nuts, rocquefort cheese dip and crudite, and one Manhattan too many.


Just in case I ever needed to know the very living definition of Joy, seeing our Fury, the most beautiful Doberman who ever lived, racing full out across a snowy golf course that none of us was ever meant to be on, running like a gazelle, top speed, free for the first time in her two-year old life. (We had adopted her a few days before, and I knew from the look on her face that she'd so far spent most of her young life in a crate.)


The Milky Way spread across a velvet 1950s Tennessee sky.


My first sight of the red-rock West.


My first taste of real New Mexican
carne adovada.

Water skiing on the Caney Fork--the clearest, blue-green river there was in Tennessee these many years ago.


Sneaking off when I was nine to get a fountain Coke, a pack of those waxy little yellow banana thingys, and a pack of Kools because I liked the penguin, at the long-gone corner cafe in Sewanee.


The smell of coffee in the morning. Always. Still.

Thank you so much Sidney for sharing this. May you all feel as blessed during this season and throughout the year. You are. I am. Let me remember that more often.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Overweight America and Lessons From Europe

Gratefully, I have never battled being overweight. Granted, I have gone through a mini roller coaster of the ups and downs (A proud recipient of the Freshman 15, pregnant round and glorious, and a bit plump here and there) but I have never been labeled as nor have I ever considered myself "fat."

Recently, I have noticed that my clothing size has gone down a bit. Not coincidentally, I have moved to Europe. What do these two things have to do with each other?

Before I left for Switzerland, there had been growing debate in the USA about "portion sizes." I vehemently denied any link between the waistline of America and the general size of the portions served in our restaurants. After all, you're the one who controls what you actually put in your mouth, so put your fork down when you're full! Right? Wrong.

Arriving in Switzerland opened my eyes to the correlation of average portion size in restaurants and the propensity of that given population to over eat. Sizes here are not small, but they are smaller. They are, in fact, enough. Doggy bags are unheard of. And as I look around, it's not easy to find someone who is obese. In fact, I could go for days and maybe weeks in between seeing someone who is unhealthily over weight. In contrast, there are an enormous number of folks who are carrying around a very unhealthy amount of weight in the USA. I posted a picture of Cinderella's Castle because it was at Disneyworld where I was most astounded at the unbelievable sight of the heaviest people I have ever seen in one place. It was not only parents, but their children, too. In fact, a disproportionate number of very heavy folks were going around on rented scooters...they simply could not walk around the theme parks.

It's true, obesity is fueling many chronic diseases such as Type 2 Diabetes and heart disease. These are expensive to treat due to their chronic nature, and contribute greatly to the health care crisis we are experiencing now.

Thinking back on my time pre-Europe, I can remember being in a restaurant and having that big plate of food in front of me--and although I was full, I still picked at the plate and ate more than I needed. Even someone like me, who generally does not have a large appetite could not resist that food just staring at me. Even though I got a doggy bag, I still ate more than I should have.

In contrast, just recently I returned from a wonderful trip to the USA...not without enjoying some of my favorite restaurants. But this time I SPLIT the entrees between my aunt and I, and found that I was more than satisfied.

If you are finding that you are carrying a couple more pounds, or even many more pounds, than you want--consider making it a habit to share an entree with your dinner companion instead of ordering a whole one when you dine out. It will be easier on your pocket book, and your waist.

For an interesting article on this topic visit: http://www.pubmedcentral.nih.gov/articlerender.fcgi?artid=1447051

An Introduction


For years now, I've heard the word "Blog" used, but only recently have come to appreciate the true meaning and value of a blog. For those of you new to "blogging," a blog is a shortened version of the word "web log." That's all fine and good, if you happen to know what a web log is. I, for a long time, did not.

So, for those of you who are also dying to find out what a web log is, I will do my best to explain not only the meaning but also the value. For those of you who are far more schooled in blogs than I, I will rely on your comments to help further educate me and my readership!

A blog is a collection of thoughts and ideas which are captured under a specific web address (you've found mine under www.adayinthelifeofpamela.blogspot.com). These thoughts and ideas can take the form of pictures, words, audio, and video. Practically speaking, it's a great way to keep a journal, express yourself, and get creative. You can communicate to untold numbers of people and solicit their ideas and feedback as well. It's also a great way to keep in touch with those whom direct communication is often not possible on a daily basis.

My blog (for now) will focus on a variety of subjects. I love to share ideas on life in general, food/cooking and wine, home projects, home decorating, life in Switzerland, my wonderful Doberman "Hannah", dog training tips, and the love of my life--my daughter Abby and her antics. I really hope that you'll enjoy reading about the joy I find in the little things in my life, my observations on life, and that you'll reach back to me through the comments button!

To all of you who have enriched and who continue to enrich my life, thank you! Read on!