Posted by Neil Brody Miller on August 26, 2010
Signs of revitalization in Syracuse seem to be everywhere these days, whether it is news reports about the low cost of home ownership or continued redevelopment of the downtown area, as evidenced by the opening of a new Urban Outfitters and the beginning of construction this week on the Hurbson Building in Armory Square. Even the New York Times is taking notice.
Given the scale of this revitalization, the opening of another new restaurant in Syracuse might seem like an insignificant detail or at best a footnote to larger, ongoing projects. The willingness of any entrepreneur to risk his or her capital in starting up a new business, however, is a sign of confidence in the city and its future. So I was pleasantly surprised to see a sign at the intersection of E. Erie Blvd. and E. Genesee St. in Dewitt earlier this week announcing the opening of a new Indian restaurant, Dosa Grill, located at 4467 E. Genesee Street, in the space previously occupied by Pickles Deli.
There are already several good Indian restaurants in the Syracuse area: India House and Sahota Place in Liverpool; Samrat on University Hill; and Taj Majal on E. Erie Blvd, which opened back in February. While most of these restaurants specialize in Northern Indian cuisine, Dosa Grill, as the name implies, features Southern as well as Northern Indian dishes.
Dosa, a thin gluten-free crepe made from fried rice and lentil flour that typically is stuffed with curried potato or other fillings, is Southern Indian street food, inexpensive, filling, and quick and easy to eat. In addition to their standard menu, the Dosa Grill features a separate Dosa menu which lists a variety of different fillings and options. I sampled the Masala Dosa, the most common version of Dosa, which is stuffed with a vegetarian mixture of lightly curried potato and onion. My Dosa, which came with a small cup of Sambal, a simple vegetable stew, was light, crisp and delicious, and was a nice alternative to the richer Indian dishes with which Americans are more familiar.
I take lousy photos with my iPhone (or maybe my iPhone simply takes lousy pictures), especially indoors, so the photo of my Dosa didn’t come out. But I also sampled a dish from the restaurant’s main menu, Malai Kofta, a Northern Indian vegetarian dish consisting of fried dumplings served in a rich, savory cream sauce, which is a personal favorite. It, too, was very good and quite spicy, which bodes well for the various Vindaloo dishes on the menu. Make sure you order your dishes mild or medium spicy unless you are sure you like your food really hot, as “hot” in Indian and Southeast Asian cuisine is often quite a bit hotter than Americans are used to.
In addition to the Dosa menu, I look forward on return visits to trying the restaurant’s goat meat dishes (if you like lamb but haven’t tried goat, you should give it a try, as it is similar to but not as gamey as lamb), and the Southern Indian seafood dishes, such as the Goan Fish Curry and the Fish Vindaloo.
For diners living and working on the east side of town, the Dosa Grill is a welcome addition to the culinary neighborhood. The Dosa Grill is also noteworthy for its owners, Babita Rani and Raj Kumar, who own the highly regarded Indian restaurants Minar in New Hartford and the Indian Cafe in Clinton, NY. Although I met Raj briefly during my meal, I didn’t think to ask what led him and his wife to open a new restaurant in Syracuse. Clearly, however, they believe Syracuse is a city worth investing in and a place where they expect to succeed.
Dosa Grill is located at 4467 E. Genesee Street in Dewitt in the small strip mall shopping center at the intersection of E. Genesse St. and E. Erie Blvd. Business hours are 11:30 AM to 2:30 PM for lunch, and 4:30 to 9:00 PM for dinner Monday through Thursday, and 10:00 PM Friday & Saturday. The restaurant serves a lunch buffet Monday through Saturday, from 11:30 AM to 2:30 PM, and a “Special Brunch Buffet” on Sundays from 12:00 to 3:00 PM.
Posted by Neil Brody Miller on August 20, 2010
Author’s Note: This article was published concurrently on the Farmshed Nation blog.
Megan Schader of Wake Robin Farm, with her herd of pasture-raised Jersey cows.
I travel a lot to local farms, farmers markets and related businesses, and I do my best when visiting these locations to arrive with as few preconceptions as possible. Ideally, I want to view each farm or business on its own terms, rather than in terms of my expectations. Philosophers call these expectations presuppositions, and on some level they are inescapable; the process of interpreting and making an experience meaningful begins well before the experience itself. Still, armed with this insight, I try to keep my expectations in check.
I was reminded of how difficult putting ideals into practice can be on a recent visit to Wake Robin Farm, a dairy farm and cheesemaker in Jordan, NY. Wake Robin Farm enjoys an enviable position among Syracuse-area farms. Their premium, natural cow’s milk products, especially their yogurts, are highly regarded by consumers and widely available at local grocery stores, including eleven Wegmans locations, Green Hills Market, the Syracuse Real Food Coop and Natur-Tyme. This widespread appreciation and distribution, along with Wake Robin’s distinctive branding, led me to assume that they were a relatively large-scale operation, if not on par with commercial dairy farms than at least recognizably similar to them.
The first sign that something was wrong was when I drove past the farm looking for an operation that matched my expectations. I failed, however, to heed this warning. When I finally pulled onto the property what I saw made little sense: there was an old barn edging slowly towards ruin; and a newer, smaller building that turned out to be the farm store and production facility. But no mountains of silage, no heavy machinery, no modern milking facility – the milk is transported in 10 gallon jugs from the barn to the creamery – and no sight or smell of the big herd I presumed I would find.
The farm store at Wake Robin Farm.
While I was sorting this out, I was greeted by Megan Schader, who along with her husband Bruce owns and operates the farm. Wake Robin Farm, that is, is a two-person, family-run operation (three persons if you count the Schader’s son, Hugh). While much of the land has been in Bruce’s family for generations, Megan and Bruce first began farming in 1999 and only converted to dairy production in 2006. At present, they tend a herd of 25 Jersey cows, a smaller breed than the ubiquitous Holsteins, that produce milk with a high butterfat content and more milk solids, which makes them ideal for crafting rich, delicious whole milk products.
The Schader’s cows are pasture raised and grass fed, with grain from Lakeview Organic Grain in Penn Yan supplementing their winter diet of locally grown organic hay. During grazing season, the herd rotates twice daily onto fresh pasture, is milked twice a day, and produces about 450-500 gallons of milk per week. Dairy production and cheese making occur four days a week, with the milk pasteurized but not homogenized. While the farm’s milk and yogurts are distributed regionally, their cheeses and Cheddar cheese curds are sold exclusively at the farm store and the Central NY Regional Market.
Bruce Schader in the creamery at Wake Robin Farm.
I don’t mean to give these facts short shrift. I was fascinated by the creamery, with its stainless steel tanks and arcane technology, and barely able to follow Bruce’s explanation of the cheese-making process; how different cultures and bacteria produce different cheeses and dairy products, how the various hard cheeses – the Schaders produce four varieties of hard cheese – require specific handling, humidity, aging, etc. But I am still hung up on the modest size of the Schader’s operation relative to the success Wake Robin Farm enjoys in the marketplace, and what this says about small-scale farming – or, more specifically, about successful small-scale farming – in the 21st century.
Bruce and his artisanal cheeses, in Wake Robin Farm's aging room.
Here, in no particular order, are a couple of thoughts:
1. Wake Robin Farm does one thing, and only one thing, exceptionally well, which is produce natural, whole milk dairy products. Megan and Bruce initially grew vegetables and even experimented with a CSA. But when they decided in 2006 to shift to dairy farming, they gave up growing vegetables and concentrated exclusively on dairy production. This single-mindedness goes against a certain contemporary school of thought, which says that small, independent farmers can and should try their hand at everything, raising livestock and poultry, planting fruits and vegetables, producing honey and maple syrup, baking breads and making jams and jellies, etc.
I’m not saying this approach can’t succeed; there are any number of paths to success and every farmer or food producer needs to figure out what works for him- or herself. But there is a certain undeniable wisdom in the adage that a jack of all trades is master of none. Those artisan farmers who by popular consensus set the standard of excellence in Central New York for a specific crop or product: Alambria Springs Farm for their salad greens; The Piggery for their pork products; Lively Run Goat Farm for their goat’s milk cheeses; Wake Robin Farm for their cow’s milk yogurts – the list goes on – dedicate themselves to, and excel at producing one product, or group of products, and are content to leave the rest of the food universe to other producers and their respective passions.
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Wake Robin Farm's "Alpine" cheeses - Floradell & Mona Lisa - in the aging room.
Wake Robin Farm's Cheddar cheeses, aging gracefully.
2. Wake Robin Farm, however, is much more than a small, specialized farm. It also is a successful brand in a crowded, competitive marketplace, with an enviable reputation and readily identifiable packaging that consumers can spot well before they reach the dairy case. Which is to say, the Schaders also are savvy businesspeople who understand the importance of brand management, marketing, and value-added food production for the long term viability of their farm.
In the 21st century, business acuity seems essential to the survival of independent farming, and by extension to the continued well being of local food cultures and economies. Thanks largely to the popularity of CSAs and farmers markets, many Central New York farmers have already become successful direct-market vendors. Given the relative ease of starting up an Internet business, the ready availability of local resources like Nelson Farms and the Syracuse Community Test Kitchen, run by my friend Marty Butts, and the growth of direct-market distributors like CNY Bounty, Garden Gate, the Foodshed Buying Club, and Nom Nom, many more farmers, I suspect, will also become value-added producers.
Neither I nor anyone else should be surprised, accordingly, when we come across a small family farm that has successfully developed, branded, and marketed an exceptional product. Success stories like Wake Robin Farm, in fact, may soon become commonplace. The cream is once again rising to the top in Central New York, and nowhere, literally, is this more evident than at Wake Robin Farm.
Wake Robin Farm is located at 177 Brutus Road in Jordan, NY. Their farm store is open everyday from 7:00 AM to 7:00 PM, April 1 to December 31. They also can be found Saturdays at the Central NY Regional Market, in “C’ shed from May through October, and “A” shed from November through April. Although their yogurts are available for sale in Syracuse-area Wegmans, the Green Hills Market, the Syracuse Real Food Coop, and Natur-Tyme, their artisanal cheeses and Cheddar cheese curds can only be purchased at the farm store and the Regional Market. For more information, visit the Wake Robin Farm website.
Posted by Neil Brody Miller on August 5, 2010
It seems quintessentially American to believe that too much of a good thing is never enough. As a result, our cars, houses, debts, meals and waistlines have gotten ever larger, though the Great Recession has momentarily curbed our excesses. The obscene genius of KFC’s Double Down, however, and the popularity of television programs like Man v. Food, which glorifies gluttony as conspicuous consumption, suggest that many Americans still see More is Better as a constitutional right.
From this perspective, the banh mi sandwich at Syracuse’s Ky Duyen Cafe seems downright un-American. I don’t say this because it is a culinary import of Syracuse’s Vietnamese immigrant community, although I suspect that members of this nation’s resurgent nativist movement would see it as such (their ideological great-grandaddies weren’t called the Know Nothings for nothing). What I mean is that something so small and deceptively simple, so meticulously crafted from fresh, flavorful ingredients into a complex, subtle, and stunningly delicious meal, cuts deeply against the grain of American eating habits.
In the spirit of full disclosure, I need to thank Don Cazentre, The Post-Standard’s food and wine columnist, for bringing the Ky Duyen Cafe to my attention. I thought I already knew all of Syracuse’s Vietnamese restaurants, but somehow I missed the Ky Duyen despite having driven past the cafe on numerous occasions. It won’t take me long to make up for my mistake, however, because hands down this is one of the tastiest sandwiches in Syracuse. It is a symphony of delicately layered, alternately harmonious and contrasting flavors.
I refer readers to Don Cazentre’s April 21, 2010 review for details about the Ky Duyen Cafe, its owner Dung Vu, and its remarkable banh mi sandwich. Very briefly, the sandwich consists of tiny portions of pork liver paté, barbequed pork, sliced roast pork, cucumber, cilantro, chilis and pickled daikon and carrots, layered into a crusty Italian hard roll baked for the cafe by Nino’s Italian Bakery on Lodi Street.
I love this last fact, this meeting of disparate immigrant cultures, not only because it testifies to the humanitarianism of Syracuse’s Catholic Charities and North Side community, which has welcomed large numbers of Vietnamese and other Southeast Asian immigrants into their midst, but also because it bears witness to the cultural possibilities of a pluralistic, open society (yeah, I’m thinking of SB 1070, and the reactionary zealots who support it and so much else that is small-minded, ill-informed, ungenerous, and bigoted in our society).
All this, from a small, deceptively simple sandwich served in an unassuming neighborhood cafe. Unexpectedly deep thoughts, and a heightened awareness of how our most mundane decisions – what do I want for lunch? – connect to the biggest issues of the day.
The Ky Duyen Cafe is located at 488 N. Salina Street, at the intersection of N. Salina Street and Butternut Street. The banh mi sandwich and a can of tamarind soda came to $6.00, roughly the same as a McDonald’s combo meal. If you need any more incentive to check out the cafe, consider that banh mi is the only food they serve. I asked for a menu after I ordered my meal and was greeted with bemused stares, because there is no menu. And I’m not even sure of the cafe’s hours, when asked I was told simply that they closed when they ran out of food. How cool is that?
Posted by Neil Brody Miller on June 18, 2010
A lot has been written recently about the health benefits of local, naturally grown and raised foods: the increased nutritional benefits of fresh fruits and vegetables; the higher percentage of good versus bad cholesterol in grass-fed meat, etc. These claims, I believe, are probably correct, as are the environmental benefits of sustainable farming, and the social utility of supporting small producers over factory farms.
All good reasons to buy local, but not the best reason, at least not for me. Something about them is too abstract; they make sense in the head rather than the heart, like following doctor’s orders, and appeal to my intellect rather than my passion. And increasingly, as I learn to live better and more comfortably with middle age, I am most interested in following my passion.
Right now, my passion leads me to want to meet, and get to know, the people who grow and prepare the food I eat, and who make the wine I drink.
I noticed this growing interest last winter, when I realized that I looked forward to visiting winter farmers markets like the Poolville Community Farmers Market more for the opportunity to touch base with new friends, than for the food itself. If home is where the heart is, then my home in part is knowing where my food grows, and who grows my food.
I was very excited, accordingly, when I was invited to Cobblestone Creek Farm’s “Harvest Share” open house this past Tuesday. I already knew Diane Eggert, co-owner of Cobblestone Creek Farm with her husband Steve, through a mutual friend, Lindsay Ott, author of the terrific blog A Trailing Thought, and had become a fan of Cobblestone Creeks’s produce from recent visits to the Hamilton Farmers Market.
Diane Eggert of Cobblestone Creek Farm, alongside this week's Harvest Share produce.
Even better, the invitation included an offer to take home a half share of their weekly “Harvest Share” – their name for the weekly CSA shares of freshly harvested produce.
I already knew that I loved Cobblestone Creek’s fresh basil from previous purchases at the Hamilton Farmers Market, but the bell peppers, hothouse tomatoes, and zucchinis were also outstanding. Their radishes and cucumbers had more “snap” than any other local produce I’ve enjoyed this spring.
The flat leaf parsley, that underappreciated stepchild of the American herb garden, was a revelation, and found its way into nearly every meal I prepared this week, including a flavorful Middle Eastern-style salad – made entirely from Cobblestone Creek’s produce – of diced cucumber, bell pepper, and tomato dressed with some good Extra Virgin olive oil and freshly squeezed lemon juice. The parsley was the star of the dish, adding an astringent grassiness that nicely complimented the sweetness of the vegetables and the fruitiness of the olive oil.
Steve Eggert’s guided tour of the farm, however, was the highpoint of my visit. Throughout our walk, he kept up a running commentary on a broad range of farming-related topics: the cost and effort involved in organic certification (too high); the safety of organic fungicides (a more complex issue than consumers appreciate); the prospects for the early broccoli planting, which had begun to flower (not too good), etc. More than anything else, I was most impressed with Steve’s profound knowledge of the soil, the crops, and the rhythms of the growing season. Without saying as much, it was clear that farming for Steve Eggert is as much an art as a science, and that he relies as much on intuition and accumulated wisdom as he does on expert knowledge.
I came away from the open house not only with a boxful of delicious, fresh produce but with a greater respect for farming and a fuller appreciation of the innumerable critical decisions that go into deciding which crops to plant, when to get the seeds going, when to transfer the seedlings from the hothouse to the field, and so on, that determine whether or not there will be a successful growing season and harvest.
2010 is the first year that Cobblestone Creek Farm has offered “Harvest Shares” for sale, and a number of shares are still available. Their CSA/Harvest Share season runs 26 weeks, from early June until Thanksgiving. A full share costs $650.00 and a half share costs $325, and rates will be prorated for anyone who joins after the beginning of the season.
According to Diane, upcoming products include eggplant, hot peppers, sweet bell peppers – red, orange, yellow, chocolate – broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower – white and orange – sweet onions and cooking onions, leeks, various herbs, brussel sprouts, winter squash – butternut, buttercup, acorn, spaghetti – sweet potato, potatoes, rutabaga, turnip, kohlrabi, corn, cantalope, watermelon, and carrots.
Harvest shares are picked up Tuesday afternoons at the farm, which is located on Collamer Road in East Syracuse. For additional information, contact Diane Eggert at diane.eggert@verizon.net, or visit Cobblestone Creek Farm’s Facebook page.
Posted by Neil Brody Miller on May 10, 2010
TasteCamp East 2010 participants enjoying Keuka Lake and Canandaigua Lake wines at Heron Hill Winery.
Here are some photos I took this past weekend at TasteCamp East 2010. I’m still reflecting on the experience, and will post an essay on this memorable event in the next day or two. In the mean time, please enjoy the photos!
Morgen McLaughlin and Lenn Thompson with George DiTomasso of Dr. Konstantin Frank Vinifera Wine Cellars at TasteCamp East 2010
Morten Hallgren of Ravines Wine Cellars, preaching the gospel of dry, vinifera table wines.
Seneca Lake Wine Mafia, from Left to Right: Tricia Renshaw of Fox Run, Peter Becraft of Anthony Road, Brandon Seager of Red Newt, Johannes Reinhardt of Anthony Road, and Peter Bell of Fox Run, at Red Newt Cellars.
A first taste of the 2007 Tierce before dinner at Red Newt Cellars.
Anthony Road winemaker Johannes Reinhardt, who clearly is more comfortable making great wines than talking about them.
Peter Bell, winemaker at Fox Run Vineyards, leads a tasting of Fox Run's library Rieslings.
Fred Merwarth, winemaker at Herman J. Wiemer Vineyard, leads a tasting of Wiemer's Reserve and vineyard-designated Rieslings.
The BYOB wines start flowing at the Stone Cat Cafe. The wines were great, the camaraderie was terrific, but the dinner menu was uninspired and overpriced.
Posted by Neil Brody Miller on April 30, 2010
A locapour is someone committed to drinking locally produced wine, just as a locavore’s commitment is to consume locally grown foods. I’ve apparently been a locapour for some time now, according to the definition, but first came across the term a couple of days ago in a friend’s Facebook post, and again today in The Washington Post.
The word locapour seems to have been recently minted, a Google search turned up a bunch of pieces from this past January that use or discuss the term. The earliest usage I found dates to 2008 or 2009, in a wine review titled “The virtues and pleasures of being a ‘locapour,’” by Beppi Crosariol, a wine writer for the Ontario, Canada newspaper The Globe and Mail.
The reason I’m writing, however, is not to advocate adding yet another trendy buzzword to our crowded cultural lexicon, but to publicize a very interesting opinion piece on “DrinkLocalWine.com 2010 and locavore hypocrisy,” in today’s Washington Post. Written by Dave MacIntrye, author of the blog Dave McIntyre’s WineLine and wine columnist for the Post, the article takes Washington DC restaurateurs to task for thoughtlessly pouring non-local wines alongside their heavily promoted locavore menus. It’s a good piece, as applicable to Central New York as the Mid-Atlantic States – maybe more applicable, given the comparative development of Finger Lakes and MD/VA winemaking – and worth a read.
Posted by Neil Brody Miller on April 26, 2010
Some ingredients are so good you know that whatever dish you prepare with them will probably turn out great. On such occasions, the only real concern is not to screw up the preparation, and to let the quality of the key ingredient speak for itself. Tonight’s dinner was one of those occasions, and featured one of those ingredients, the Flour City Pasta Sweet Potato Pappardelle I purchased last Saturday at the Central NY Regional Market. Thankfully, the recipe for a brown butter sauce with toasted, chopped walnuts and grated Pecorino Romano cheese, which is adapted from a classic ravioli recipe, is about as simple is it gets, and the dish turned out every bit as good as I hoped.
First, it should be said that the pasta was a thing of beauty all by itself, the product exudes the love, skill and experience of dedicated artisans, along with an accompanying commitment to use only the finest organic ingredients. I feel foolish for not taking a photo of the dry pasta before putting it in the pot, but let’s just chalk up the lapse to unrestrained enthusiasm.
The pasta took about 10 minutes to cook al dente. In the meantime I browned a couple of tablespoons of unsalted farmhouse butter from Meadow Creek Farm of Interlaken, NY and about a 1/4 cup of chopped walnuts in a large sauce pan, until the kitchen was filled with rich, nutty aromas from the sauce, and sweet spice aromas of cinnamon from the pasta. When the pasta was ready, I added about a cup of the salted pasta water to the sauce, then drained and added the pasta to the sauce pan, along with a good pinch of dried sage and some ground black pepper, and let everything come together over moderate heat until almost all the liquid was absorbed. Off the heat, in quick succession I added the grated Pecorino, poured a glass of wine (the 2007 Salmon Run Meritage), and sat down to enjoy.
Stupid grin in a bowl good. Happy feet good. What could be better than perfectly matched ingredients, and a quick, simple preparation? The pasta had a wonderful, firm texture, with subtle, sweet potato flavors and the sweet spice aromas of cinnamon and nutmeg, which were perfectly complimented by the nutty, smoky, salty flavors of the browned butter, toasted walnuts and grated Pecorino, and the savory note and slight bite of the sage and black pepper. The wine, the 2007 Salmon Run Meritage (Salmon Run is the second label of the Dr. Konstantin Frank Winery), which didn’t impress me the night before on its own, was a great match, the moderately high acidity cut through the richness of the brown butter sauce, while the pasta brought out and deepened the wine’s dark red and black fruit flavors.
The moral of this story is as simple as the preparation. Find Flour City Pasta, either at the Central NY Farmers Market or wherever else it is available. Buy Flour City Pasta. Eat Flour City Pasta. Then tell a friend. Or cook it for your mom on Mother’s Day, or to impress the hell out of a first date. New York City doesn’t have better pasta than this. Portland, Oregon doesn’t have better pasta than this. In fact, no one, anywhere, has better pasta than this. So find it, buy it, and enjoy it. We are very, very fortunate that Jon Stadt and his dedicated staff call Central New York their home.
Posted by Neil Brody Miller on April 24, 2010
It’s been eight months since I moved outside of Syracuse, and even longer since I last visited the Central NY Regional Market. So although I was looking forward to today’s visit, I have to be honest and admit that I had some mixed feelings. I love the fact that the Regional Market has been operating continuously since 1933, is open on Saturdays throughout the winter, and is supposedly New York State’s largest market. Nice local history, and very convenient, at least when I was living in the city. But I was also a bit uneasy about the stacks of bananas, oranges, and assorted out-of-season fruits and vegetables I knew I would find at the market, which are trucked in and/or flown across the continent from Florida and California and places beyond. That’s not regional in any meaningful sense of the word, especially since much of this produce is identical to and more expensive than the produce sold in area supermarkets.
Still, it was a gorgeous, sunny morning, I hadn’t visited the market in months, and the drive from New Woodstock in my gas-sucking 1995 Subaru wasn’t exactly eco-friendly, either. Besides, I was looking forward to seeing some bright Spring flowers, of which there were plenty, and was hoping to run into Marty Butts, the owner of Small Potatoes Sales & Marketing, or at least to check out some of the producers Marty works with, especially Flour City Pasta, about which I had heard great things.
I clearly wasn’t the only person who thought it would be a nice day to visit the market. In fact, the first thing I encountered was a bottleneck of people trying to get into the first building, as the floor space was literally packed with shoppers moving slowly from vendor to vendor, eyeing stalls stocked full of out-of-state citrus and last season’s aged apples, and the occasional table of Amish baked goods.
Thankfully, things thinned out a bit in Building B, which is where many of the truly local, or at least regional, farmers and producers were congregated, and where I met some wonderful folks and purchased some terrific products.
For starters, I sampled the latest Treleaven wines from Kings Ferry Winery, including their 2008 Pinot Noir and Cabernet Franc, and their 2009 Gewurztraminer and Semi-Dry Riesling. Although it was difficult to get a good sense of the wines from the thimble-sized samples, the Pinot Noir and Cabernet Franc exhibited varietally correct cherry, and smoky, berry fruit flavors, respectively, although I thought both wines were noticeably light-bodied. I wasn’t wowed by the 2009 Gewurztraminer, either, although this may have been due to the near impossibility of enjoying the aromas, which for Gewurztraminer are essential. But the 2009 Semi-Dry Riesling offered up a nice, round mouthful of lemon-lime and melon fruit backed up by crisp acidity and a stony minerality.
Across the way a vendor by the name of Finger Lakes Family Farms displayed a broad range of products from a number of farmers and producers. I picked up a nice head of hydroponically grown Finger Lakes Fresh Boston lettuce, a brand owned by Challenge Industries of Ithaca, which employs individuals with disabilities, as well as some freshly harvested, locally grown spinach and a very tasty Old Fashion Granola from Adas Pastries of Ovid. The real find, however, was a delicious, soft goat cheese called Olive Bianco produced by Hawthorne Valley Farm, a Hudson Valley dairy every bit as good as Lively Run Goat Dairy, which Finger Lakes Family Farms also had available for sale.
From there, things just kept getting better. Rock Hill Bakehouse of Glens Falls, NY – near Saratoga Springs – offered some of the best artisanal breads I have yet seen in Syracuse. I have nothing against Pastabilities’s stretch bread, or venerable local institutions like the Columbus and Di Lauros bakeries. But we could definitely use a world-class artisanal bakery in Syracuse of the quality of Rock Hill Bakehouse, or Geneva’s Normal Bakery, or Buffalo’s Five Points Bakery.
What else. Let’s see, a very, very good ash-ripened, Valencay-style pyramid goat cheese called Eclipse from R & G Cheese Makers of Cohoes, NY, near Albany; and some delicious, exotic sprouts and baby garlic mustard greens from Dancing Turtle Farms of Ithaca.
The highpoint of the trip, however, was undoubtedly Flour City Pasta, a Rochester-area company that produces truly extraordinary, hand made dry pastas using organic ingredients, locally grown and milled flours (for the Whole-Wheat and Emmer flour pastas), imported Italian brass dies, and traditional Old World techniques. I waited nearly 20 minutes to be served, there were so many customers in line, but I felt like a kid in a candy store. Jon Stadt, the proprietor of Flour City Pasta, is clearly obsessed with pasta making, because he produces some of the most beautiful, artisanal dry pastas I have ever seen. I bought the Sweet Potato Pappardelle, which Jon says is his best-selling pasta, and can’t wait to try it out tomorrow night with browned butter, chopped walnuts, and Pecorino Romano, but I was equally tempted by the Wild Mushroom Fettuccini and the Lemon Pepper Fettucini, which seemed a clear favorite.
If there was any downside to the day, it was the realization of the distances many of these producers traveled to get to the Regional Market, and how difficult it would be to reconcile my purchases with a commitment to buy local. By my estimate, one producer I purchased from traveled 150 miles each way to set up his table, while the average distance traveled by these vendors was roughly 100 miles each way, which is hardly local and barely regional by any fair estimation. And then there was my own 45 minute drive into the city, and the 45 minute drive home. So no one was winning any awards for sustainability. Then again, I didn’t even look at the produce from Florida and California, and everything I purchased came either from a local farmer or a small, family-owned business. But perhaps I’m just rationalizing.
Posted by Neil Brody Miller on April 14, 2010
This is another in a series of wine reviews I began a few months ago, in which I taste value-priced wines produced by Finger Lakes wineries in order to compare these local, under-$12.00 wines with the flood of inexpensive red wines from Portugal, Spain, and Argentina that consumers have turned to in their search for a decent, affordable table wine. This week’s wine is the 2008 Red Newt Cellars Red Eft ($12.88 at Liquor City in DeWitt; $11.99 at the winery), a dry red blend made from 36% Cabernet Franc, 23% Syrah, 19% Cabernet Sauvignon, 12% Noiret, and 10% Merlot.
For a small Seneca Lake winery, Red Newt produces a wide range of wines, from their highly rated, vineyard designated red and white wines like the Glacier Ridge Vineyards Cabernet Franc and Sawmill Creek Vineyard and Curry Creek Vineyard Gewurztraminers, to inexpensive blends like the Red Eft and Salamander White. Some of these wines are off-dry, but none of them pander to the lamentable local taste for sweet wines. Although the Red Eft is technically off-dry, with 0.3% residual sugar, the wine tastes totally dry.
The Red Eft’s most noticeable characteristic is the aroma of Noiret, the hybrid varietal developed at the New York State Agricultural Experiment Station in Geneva, NY, which a number of Finger Lakes winemakers have begun experimenting with. Noiret has a peppery, citrusy aroma which is immediately recognizable once you’ve experienced it. Although the aroma is not unpleasant, it is a bit unexpected. In the Red Eft, this citrusy aroma was quickly followed by the more familiar earthy, herbaceous aroma of Cabernet Franc, and the deeper red fruit bouquet of Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, and Merlot.
The wine has a rich, soft texture, a medium body, moderate alcohol (13.2%) and acidity, and soft tannins. The flavors of cherry and red berries are pleasant and matched by notes of rosemary and other dried or grilled herbs. The flavors are definitely fruit forward and carry nicely through the mid-palate, but they drop off pretty quickly on the finish.
For a Tuesday or Wednesday evening dinner at home, a glass or two of the Red Eft would be perfectly satisfying, which is all it aspires to be. The problem with this and other value-priced Finger Lakes wines, however, is that they are competing against heavily promoted imports from hot, Mediterranean-type climates. American palates unfortunately have become accustomed to these overly ripe, highly extracted wines, and many, perhaps most consumers are not used to a wine like the Red Eft, which displays a more classical weight and structure, less fruit, lower alcohol, and a different spectrum of flavors.
What I noticed with the Red Eft, however, and what I’ve noticed in other value-priced Finger Lakes wines like the Lamoreaux Landing Estate Red, which I reviewed a few months ago, is that there is a distinct freshness – not ripeness, but freshness – to the wine that I rarely find in imports. I think this is a critical point, and something that rarely gets mentioned in wine reviews.
Out of economic necessity (i.e., to keep down the transportation cost), most of the lower priced imports from Europe and South America are shipped to the United States in non-air conditioned containers. While not all of these wines are “cooked” in transit (although many of them are), I am beginning to realize that something subtle but important nevertheless gets lost. The distinction should be familiar to anyone who seeks out and consumes fresh, locally grown produce: a freshly harvested, vine-ripe tomato purchased at a local farmers market tastes ineffably fresher than even the ripest hot-house tomato shipped from Maine or California and purchased at the local supermarket.
The growing number of Slow Food and Buy Local devotees, and anyone else interested in supporting their local food economy, should take note. Wines like Red Newt’s Red Eft may at first seem a bit unfamiliar in terms of their flavors and characteristics, but they nonetheless are well made, competitively priced wines that offer the same freshness you look for in locally grown fruits and vegetables.
The more I investigate these value-priced Finger Lakes wines, the more of them I find, and the more impressed I am with them. Which doesn’t mean that I am going to forgo drinking top flight wines like Red Newt’s Viridescens or their extraordinary single-vineyard Gewurztraminers when I can afford to do so. But before I make that impulse purchase of this week’s over-hyped Portuguese wine bargain, I hope that I have the good sense to stop and remember that freshness is as desireable a quality in wine as it is in food, and that keeping my wine dollars circulating in the local economy is just as important as buying my food from local farmers.
Posted by Neil Brody Miller on March 21, 2010
The deeper I delve into the cultural politics of the buy local and slow food movements, the more I appreciate how transformative a real commitment to these movements will be. A number of developments this past week have driven my thinking on this topic. First, I filed the DBA for my new business, TheVillageSquared.com (more about this at a later date), which is still several months away from being launched but which personally and professionally marks an important turning point. In all likelihood it signals the end of my academic career as a college professor, or at least an end to the expectation of finding a full-time teaching position, and a return to an earlier status as a business owner and entrepreneur. My ambivalence about this realization, however, is offset by the hope that it will also mean stability and independence – financial and existential – after eight years as an itinerant educator, and a firmer foundation for my commitment to remain in Central New York and put down permanent roots in the region.
I’ve also been reading and thinking about a number of related issues. I started reading Michael H. Shuman’s book The Small-Mart Revolution: How Local Businesses are Beating the Global Competition which, despite indulging occasionally in utopianism and relying too heavily on best- and worst-case scenarios, is an important book for understanding the challenges, and the politics and philosophical underpinnings, of community-based economics. I’ve also been thinking about joining a CSA, which for a middle-aged bachelor long habituated to eating out rather than cooking at home, is not as simple a decision as it may sound. Will I really make and keep a commitment to consume all the fresh food delivered weekly? Will I be paying for produce I won’t eat, or worse yet, throwing away food I failed to consume? Will the moral good of supporting local farming be offset by the moral harm of wasting food?
Finally, I got a letter this week from my bank, HSBC, “the world’s local bank,” informing me that, beginning in April, there will be a monthly charge for my checking account, which until now had been free. I’ve already been thinking about which bank to open the business account for The Village Squared, and have been leaning towards a community bank or local credit union. The letter from HSBC, however, combined with the ideas in Shuman’s book and my thinking about community-based economics, demands that I rethink my personal banking as well.
All these issues came together this morning over breakfast at the Red & White Cafe in DeRuyter. As I reached to pay the bill, I grabbed automatically for my plastic debit card, which over the past few years has virtually replaced my use of cash. In fact, I often go for weeks nowadays without a dollar in my pocket. I stopped, however, and thought a bit about the socioeconomics of my actions. Beyond the questionable ethics of banking with HSBC, a multinational corporation who uses the money in my account for god only knows what purposes, and in god only knows what countries, paying for my meal with the debit card also meant that Mastercard was going to take somewhere around 3 percent of the total bill, or around 30 cents, in fees and charges, which would come out of Chris’s, the owner of the Red & White Cafe, pocket and profits.
A short conversation with Chris brought home the economics of this issue. We quickly calculated that she serves about 500 customers a week, which at roughly $10.00 per customer works out to $5,000 a week. Which means that Chis pays around $150.00 a week in credit card fees, or somewhere around $8,000 a year in lost income and profit. That may not be enough to make-or-break her business, but it is certainly enough to prevent her from purchasing a major new appliance, or making a commitment to source locally grown products, or taking a much-needed vacation. So in terms of its effect on the local economy, the use of a debit card to pay for my breakfast could, like the flapping of a butterfly’s wings in Brazil, metaphorically set off a tornado in Texas.
All this may seem like a lot of deep thinking for a Sunday morning breakfast, but supporting a community-based economy, I am begining to realize, is not simply a matter of purchasing locally grown farm products. At the very least, today’s meal got me thinking about the supposed convenience of carrying plastic, which, like the convenience of purchasing produce at the local supermarket without any thought of where it came from and how it got there, comes with significant hidden costs. Which is why I say that supporting the local economy will be transformative and require me to change entrenched habits. If you love a local business, pay in cash!