A Delicious Little Corner

Paul flew out early Sunday morning for a conference in the Hague.  And while I was very jealous that he was off to a week in a beautiful country, I didn't sit around the house.  I went with some friends to the northern most tip of Israel to this delicious little corner.  I don't know exactly what the population of the town is (if it is even big enough to be a town), but they are on to something!  They have two wineries (one of which is my new favorite), a gourmet chocolate factory, and a small little restaurant that is raved about.   Oh...and fresh goat cheese made by the winemakers wife.  What a life!

First five wines we tasted at Pelter.

As we left Tel Aviv in the morning we picked out our wineries.  A well informed group we were.  We had recommendations (and driving directions) from friends, the most popular guide book, and the guide to Israeli wines. We had access to everything you could want to know about the wines....driving directions...well that was another story.  I successfully pointed out a shortcut absent from our directions.  But the second time I knew of an alternate route I kept my mouth shut, thinking the directions were a short-cut.  I should have spoken up.  We up the steepest curvy (poorly banked) roads.  I'd have taken a picture, but the military fence alongside the road said no photography.  Note to self - don't go that way ever again.

I'd been to the first winery before after a camping trip.  They weren't so nice to us, but I chalked that up to us making a reservation from the parking lot (they are big on reservations here) and showing up after a night of camping.  The second trip was as...lacking in hospitality and pleasantry.  A quick tour (the only cool part is their cellar) was followed by tasting 3 red wines.  I don't really care for their wine and two of the four wanted to buy whites.  Boo...

Then we headed up, up and up (to the highest elevation in that region) and as north as possible.  Finally, we came to a dead end:  right through a crossing or left to the winery.  Left Please!

Near the border...

The winery - Pelter Winery - could not have been more enjoyable!  First, the wine was delicious!  And instead of the three skimpy tastings at the previous winery, we tasted like 12 wines!  Second - he had fresh goat cheese laid out (which his wife made...they have 10 goats).  Third, it was so laid back.  He was tasting with us and wasn't tapping his foot waiting for us to finish. Fourth - the winemaker himself was hanging out with us!  Fifth, I don't really remember - but we did ask if there was a bed and breakfast in that town also, or at least a good (safe) camping spot.  It is like 30 minutes above the Sea of Galilee, so I think we'll be heading up there in a few weeks for a culinary camping trip! :)

Bags of Pelter Wine in the trunk on the way home.

Paree Paree!

Oh Paris!  I miss you!  I haven’t written this post (or the postcards) because they are all in the past tense – and that would mean my trip to Paris has ended.  But now that I’ve written it, I see that it hasn’t made Paris a part of the past, it has taken me back to Paris.  

Paul and I are sitting on a shawl in Park Luxembourg.  We can hear other Americans around us, but mostly French.  I’m pretty sure we’ve blended in and – as long as they can’t hear us – they will all think we are French.  We’ve snagged a little spot on the green with an amazing view of the Mansion.  There are walking paths on 3 sides of us – but far enough away that we aren’t bothered by the passerbys…not that they would bother you because they are just strolling along in their perfectly fashionable and dressy outfits chatting about art and wine and great food! And I just want to replay this moment over and over and over again.

We happily discovered that when you buy a bottle of wine here they don’t mind opening it for you and leaving the cork 1/3 of the way in so it doesn’t spill in your bag on the way to the park.  Supposedly you aren’t allowed to drink in public, but our guidebook says “the French don’t obey laws that they think are senseless.”  Oh, I love this city!  Renting an apartment was a great idea!  It makes me feel like we are Parisians!  Every time I say this (when crossing the street on a red light, sipping coffee in a café, buying cheese, spinning around in my new dress!), Paul reminds me that I AM Parisian!  (More on this in the next post.)

(This is my favorite part!)  We leave our apartment early this morning, walk down the 5 flights of winding warped centuries-old stairs.  We pass the crepe place, the brasserie (bar and food), the boutique, the patisserie (pastries), and the fromagerie (cheese)!  Actually, we don't just pass any of them – we stop to look in the window at all of them, and get drawn into the fromagerie!  How could we resist?!?!  Cheese for our picnic!  Eventually we find a table in the sun at a café with a great view for people watching.  We order two coffees and two croissants.  This is so flaky and warm and gewy and delicious!  I didn’t know what a croissant was until this very moment.  Should I order another?

Eventually we move on and walk through the beautiful neighborhoods that lead us past the museums, over the river, past the Notre Dame…we walk as if we’ve seen them a million times – and yet every time we see them I light up with the excitement of a little kid!  This is Disney World for adults!  We stay longer than we normally would at the café and the store because that is how you do it in Paris, and because every moment is so enjoyable that you don’t want to move on.  We walk a little slower, smile a lot more, daydreaming along the way.  As we approach the park we pass through a small market and grab some meat, fruit, bread, and a bottle of wine. 

It didn’t take us long to find this most perfect spot to sit in the park, and I think we’ve got the Parisian thing down from the daily routine to the food – and my French is improving!  The city instantly feels like home.  I let out a long slow sigh as if I’ve finally arrived at the place which I’ve been in such a rush to get to.  The rest of the world becomes a quiet blur, circling around this very spot on this little shawl in this beautiful  garden in Paris.

A Culinary Anniversary

I love surprises - but I admit, I am difficult to surprise.  Because as much as I love being surprised - I love figuring out what the surprise is! So when Paul left "for an early morning run" on our anniversary, I knew something was going on.  As he was leaving I curled up under the covers and closed my eyes...once the door shut, I sprung out of bed and began rapid work to finish the scrapbook I'd been working on for quite some time. 

An hour or so later, when I "woke up," I found flowers and coffee waiting for me in the kitchen! After a relaxing breakfast (and some cleaning and prep for our huge Thanksgiving dinner), we headed to the park for a picnic lunch like frequently did during DC summers (although, it is impossible to find prosciutto here, so beef jerky was substituted - haha).  The most enjoyable part of the picnic was reading on 1st Anniversary bottle of wine.  At the wedding, in lieu of a guest book, we asked our friends and family to write on wine bottles to be opened on our 1st, 5th and 10th anniversaries.  Surprisingly, there were many wishes in Spanish, Portuguese and Gaelic.  The picnic and well-wishes really took us back!

For dinner we went to this great wine bar in Jaffa which specializes in meat and truffles! Hmmm :) Now, I don't want to say "I love Israel," for this could be misinterpreted, but...lets just say the waiter served his country well.  The cave-like restaurant was mostly empty (being a Sunday night), save for the owner, the manager and a few waiters.  After a delicious meal and a glass of the house wine, we were chatting with the guy about our anniversary and the great bottle of truffle oil we got for Christmas last year. "Ah, yes, Christmas," he said with a smile, as if realizing we were in some way different. 

Just before we left he brought over a little to-go box and said "I forgot to bring you your side dish." I thought I he meant the massive mound of butter (read the next post) until he winked at us and said quietly "It's not the butter." Though we wanted to know what it was, we clearly couldn't open the box in front of the owner or the manager. "Don't open until Christmas!" was the last thing he said as we paid the bill.  Israel is still below Argentina on my list of favorite foreign countries, and I'm not saying I can be bought off with a bottle of truffle oil...but it does go a long way! 

The Worst Wine...Ever

Look closely after you read the post.

Having both spent time in Argentina, Paul and I love good red wine.  This is a pretty common thing for people who stay there an extended period of time in Argentina.  The great meat goes so well with the great wine.  I think it is safe to say my cousin Sara, who spent time there too, understands this. 

So Israel supposedly has this up and coming wine industry.  Much like real estate "Up and Coming" is code for "currently in shambles, but some people are working really hard and sinking money into this area - someday we hope it will be good!"  :)  It isn't the vinegar it used to be known as. (What is the difference between Israeli wine and Israeli vinegar?  The label.) Israeli wine-makers are trying - but they are not Argentinians.

A few weeks ago at the duty free store (one of the perks of Paul's job) we found an escape from Israeli wine, a bottle of Argentine Malbec (A dry red wine from a grape that is really only grown there - yet somehow there is an Israeli Malbec. We haven't tried it.). The label looked good, it is from a specific region in Argentina we know, looks legit.  A little over our price range but we decide to try it.  So last night Paul makes steak (Oh, he is getting good at that!) and we opened this bottle. 

The bottle was very difficult to open and when the cork finally came out it felt like recycled tires.  We poured the wine and let it breathe a few minutes before trying it.  I was not impressed.  The aroma was off, the mouth was weak and there was almost no finish.  This is why at restuarants they have you try the wine before you buy the bottle - in case you have a bad bottle like this one. 

Giving the wine the benefit of the doubt (and because I had already paid for it), I let it breathe for 20 more minutes (wine tastes very different when it is exposed to air. That is why you sometimes spin the glass before you drink).  Still no good.  This did not taste like a Malbec and was definitely not the quality I have come to expect from Argentine wines.  Two glasses into the bottle we agreed that this wine was not worth buying again. 

As we poured out the last glass Paul noticed half a cork and lots of sediment in the bottle (tiny solid particles).  He made fun of my corking skills for having broken the cork...until I showed him the cork, still in tact.  The recycled black rubber cork was in my hand.  The half cork in the bottle was clearly not ours. 

In addition to the horrific half of a rubber cork and the sediment in the bottle, this wine tasted like crap.  Easily the worst I have ever had.  (For the record, we didn't drink those last glasses.) This was worse than Two-Buck-Chuck.  You don't need to be a wine expert to recognize that this was a bad bottle.  I'm telling you a.) because I'm shocked!, b.) because I don't want you to buy this wine, and c.) because it is funny!  I'm glad we didn't intend on sharing this bottle with friends!

This is why I can't paint my house

The first reason why I shouldn't paint my apartment is evident if you are reading this blog on the website as opposed to an email: I have changed the background and colors again. I just like to change it :)

Second is that I really really don't like the plastic and the mess caused by the process of painting. This week workers have been here to fix a small leak above our window and the house and patio are covered with a light dusting of plaster. The leak wasn't serious - as it only rains 3 times a year for a total of 30 minutes - but still it had to be fixed.

So last Sunday at 8am 5 guys showed up and covered our furniture in plastic and began their work covering the house (and plants) and patio in white dust. My poor plants have gotten the worst of it. The bulk of the work is happening on the patio between the tomato/zucchini/eggplants which act as bookends for the patio. Not only can we not reach all of the plants to water them - but the leaves are covered in dust so they aren't getting light. The downside is that the leaves are dying, the upside is that the tomatoes are turning red!

The first day (Sunday) we were here the whole day while they were working and we left out hummus, meat and crackers for the guys at lunchtime. The next day they were late and we had to leave for work - so we locked them out. The third and fourth day they showed up early, and on the fifth day the boss brought us a really good bottle of wine! He said it was to thank us for the hummus :) I'm telling you, Paul has perfected this hummus! Israeli's and Arabs have agreed that it is good!