Clark's Outpost ~ Tioga, Texas ~ Hugo's hands, 93 years
young and still building Model-T's, 30 hours a week.
young and still building Model-T's, 30 hours a week.
During the off hours, we've covered a lot of ground this past week, visiting relatives, seeing sights and uncovering a story or two. A little visual lagniappe for Sunday, give everyone a little break from the verbal meanderings; let you all get caught up.
A mini waltz across Texas, on a tank of gas, from Tioga to Strawn to Temple and back. The cool pool awaits, so you all sit in your rooms and stare at the screen or come out, as it pleases you. I’m heading for my back yard, and a little sun and silence. Happy summer, y'all.
Berry picking in Aubrey
Country "Guest House"
The Spider's Lair

Mary's Cafe ~ Strawn, Texas ~ Ray Price concert announcement and oyster warning (the only oysters served here are the Rocky Mountain kind)
Freshly Fried Chicken Livers ~ West Texas fois gras

Chicken Fried Steak done the right way, pounded and skilleted up, not deep fried; with a side of real Texas pomme frites and okra
High Noon in West Texas for the Italian Wine Guy
Something you'll never see in New York City
Chinese revival mansion in Temple, Texas
Meanwhile, back at the ranch...
Gondolas? We don't need no stinkin' gondolas

Earlier in the week I was at lunch with my Italian wine loving friend, Paul. We were at a little place in our neighborhood, York Street, talking about wine and food. Tasting a few wines, more for pleasure than anything. At the table behind me an Italian wine importer is chatting up his rep. He goes off on a property in Umbria and the consultant, Riccardo Cotarella, and how all his wines are overblown and why does he make Sangiovese taste like Zinfandel and why, oh why does he make Merlot? It reminded me of someone who was nega-ranting about Alice Feiring’s book ( or her position ) on a blog somewhere. I wanted to ask them all, “So you think you have a better idea? Then present it, get it out there and see what kind of mileage you can get from your point of view.” I know Cotarella is working to break away from the way he is perceived, we’ve talked about it. It’s like an artist that gets pigeonholed for a certain style and then, bam, he can only be a cubist or a surrealist or an abstract expressionist. Or a naturalist or a pure-wine Euro-loving Cali-hating effete snob. I want to say to these angry ones, have you ever picked up the phone and called these people? Or how about an email? Why not engage them in a dialogue? Why does everything have to be High Noon in this culture?
Look, the young importer seems to have a nice portfolio and I’m sure he is repping good people who are committed to their land. But is Cotarella any less committed to his evolution because he has found a thread of success that brings a lot of people to Italian wine? Quit knocking it. It’s cursing the darkness; it’s a mobius strip that will only drive you nuts.
Right now 40% of restaurant business in the US is take out, so that means they aren’t selling wine to those customers. The restaurant business is in the tanks. I was in a restaurant last night with a friend and he gets a call from a client wanting about 20 or so bottles of wine. The fellow couldn’t have planned his business a little better? And now he expect the salesman to stop everything he is doing so he can waste time and gas on a losing proposition to deliver this poor-planner his pittance of Pinot. And then the restaurateur wonders why his business is doing so badly?
I called a Brunello producer today. The last time I called him he was in India and said he’d call me back. Well, he must have forgotten. So I called and called and called again. Finally I reached him; he was in some ex-Soviet satellite city doing a winemaker dinner. I ask him how his Brunello is going. He says to me, “everything is Ok, everything is OK, just order the wine, Parker just gave it a 91.” We've got Toscana IGT's that Sir Bob gave 90's to and they are 1/3 the price of Brunello. And they're sitting in warehouses, moving slowly. So, how about instead, Parker giving me a gas card, something I can use?
I told him I wanted to know how his certification is going. I guess he is too busy spending time to develop the emerging economies to backtrack to the American circus. Just let Parker rate it and everything will be OK? NO-K.
That same leg that the foot dangles from got shot by its owner, on account of we too, like the winemakers in Tuscany, and people all over the world, are still working this being human thing out. We are still trying to find our somewhereness on this blue orb. Do you or don’t you wanna dance?

Q. Tell us in the past a little about the wine you are making in your time?
Q. And what role does science play in winemaking these days?

Q. If I could give you information from 2008, what would you want to know?
He's already been
I still remember his home phone number, but he’s not there. When I was in New Orleans last month, I had a dream about him. He’s dancing in Galatoire’s, making mischief in Commander’s Palace, lifting tablecloths in Brennan’s. He belongs to the Ancients now.
Al loved women; he had an invisible pheromone that attracted young and beautiful women to him all his life. Maybe it was his famous Café Brulot or his Coquilles St. Jacques. Anytime I walked into his home there would be something cooking. And there was often a beautiful lass by his side, learning his technique. He was a gentleman, and he loved the ladies.
Few people know that Al first brought American wines into the White House. It was his second tour of duty, the first being World War II. Al loved this country and being a true son of New Orleans, was a national treasure to me, much like the Crescent City is, to many of us in our country.
Life for Al was never half empty. It was neither half full. For Al, pardon the cliché, but his cup always runneth over. And he was more than happy to invite friend and stranger alike to the party, to share his table, his love and his joy for life.
Excuse me, but I have just had one of the best food and wine combinations of the year. I was out with friends to an outdoor concert with picnic food. They brought 
Press is good – Sales is mo’ bettah. And this week I have been pounding the pavement, like I promised. With more to come. Austin, Houston, I’s a comin’.
OK, back to business.
This was supposed to be the follow up to the last post. But I need a break from serious. So let’s have a little summer camp, eh? Besides, I have these wonderful pictures that are so timely.
Meanwhile, Montalcino has decided to upstage Spoleto, unveiling their operetta about “the little red wine that coulda-shoulda-woulda.” What a mess they have made of this Brunello business, to the point that the US has had to scare up a tomato scandal just to get a little ink.
And we worry about a wine list and its relevancy. How can one be so vacuous, so insensitive?
From Zardoz to Zaius
Anyway, seems that the administrators have wrestled the monitoring of the Brunello appellation from the Consorzio.
Look, it might not be all that wrong to appoint fellows like Dr. Riccardo Ricci Curbastro, president of Federdoc (National Federation of Voluntary Consortia for the Oversight of Italian Wine Appellations); Professor Vasco Boatto, director of Enology, Department of Agronomy, University of Padua); and Dr. Fulvio Mattivi, director of the analysis laboratory Istituto di San Michele all’Adige (the institute of enology, province of Trento). Still, the way it is being delivered seems like it comes straight out of the playbook of paterfamilia.
Eric Asimov blogs from
Odd, that in California they can add Syrah and Teroldego to Pinot Noir in an effort to boost the profile of a wine that in places like Burgundy and Trentino they rest on their own. Odd especially for Trentino, as Teroldego grows with Pinot Nero in proximity to each other. And two different wines are made and appreciated for their own merits.
We will see. But I wonder, will the world really care about Brunello once they’ve let their little operetta play out? Already we are seeing Brunello sales going soft. Again, the 2003 vintage won’t be considered a classic by many of us out here in flyover country. Then again, in flyover country it seems there are other concerns, like the corn harvest. And what to do with all of these tomatoes. And soon all those darn melons. It’s just too much for man and ape alike.
