Peterson Winery Vineyards
South) don’t buy it all before the next Club shipment in January I’m going to order more. This vintage is a keeper – it will taste great now and hold its own for years. I’m curious about the flavors it will develop over time so I marked each bottle in the cellar with the date I should drink it. Yah, a little anal, but I have learned a lot this way – what will age and improve and what will not.
Now, last and not least, Peterson’s Il Granaio – the Barn. I currently have the ’05, ’06, and ’08 vintages in my cellar. This is one I’ve been buying for years and it keeps getting better as Peterson experiments with and varies the blend. This used to be a Sangiovese and Cab/Merlot blend but they switched to Sangiovese and Rhone varietal blending in 2008. Both are Killer. The ’08 was a bit abrupt at first but has improved with bottle age already. The Rhone varietals in the blend should make it more approachable early, I suppose, but I’m ‘reserving’ (eww, bad pun) judgement until I’ve cellared it a while longer.
Here is how the Eric Ross Winery website describes this excellent wine.
After the annual haggling over pricing, the Dungeness crabs have arrived. Around Sonoma County, we can soon indulge in crab-eating orgies in support of various Rotary, Kiwanis, and Soroptomists. Or, you can grab whole crabs yourself for just $5.59/lb boiled and cleaned at your favorite supermarket. As a Northern California native with deep New England roots, Dungeness crab season has always been my opportunity to demonstrate my ability to wield a nutcracker around a tasty crustacean. Bring your bibs, I can make a mean Ciopinno. I can go pan-Asian and create a ginger and lemon grass-infused coconut milk broth for my succulent & crabby friends. Or, if I really love you, I am more than willing to spend the time cracking and picking to create a mound of shell-less crab meat. Last night, as a welcome home gift to my husband who had just endured three days in Houston, I decided to shell the two crabs. Shelling a lobster starts with the satisfying bounty of big claws and tail, and de-volves into the only-for-expert job of sucking meat out of legs or the daring, but blissful reward of the green tomalley — the lobster’s liver. Shelling a Dungeness crab is a much more consistently rewarding process, provided that you embrace the briny challenge. Not only do the legs and claws offer up tasty chunks, the body itself is a mother lode of easily accessed treats. So, after a delicious lime & bourbon cocktail and 30-40 minutes, I had myself at least 4 cups of pristine crab meat. From here, the possibilities were endless. I could eat the whole bowl myself before Peter came downstairs to check on dinner. I could mix it with some of my home made chile & lime sauce for a Crab Louie. I could make a Ciopinno for the lazy — essentially a shelled tomato-based crab chowder. What I decided to do was to make a simple pasta dish:
Climate change be damned, there is nothing like a drought-on-the-horizon mid December day in Sonoma County. Yesterday I awoke to brilliant sunshine, frost on my roof and all three dogs under the covers. By mid day, I was sweating in the garden pulling beets, clipping kale, picking the last of the serrano peppers, and wondering if I needed sun block. By sunset, I was lighting a fire and contemplating a stew for dinner. No time for slow-braised short ribs or coq au vin. A sea food stew would have to do. I remembered a fish stew served in a whole pumpkin that I had at a hole-in-the-wall Brazilian restaurant on Valencia & 24th back in the 80s. A tropical stew for a cold winter’s night that came hours after a what felt like a warm summer day. Here’s what I did:
When I go for a Dry Creek Zinfandel, I’m prepared for spice and jam. Dry Creek has made a name for itself for turning out great, and often full, jammy Zinfandels. The typical style has a lot of dark berries and fruits and then the spices kick in on the finish. With this in my brain, on a cold November evening, I tried the 
