Go Dawgs! Georgia fans in Oregon

We find each other everywhere! This note was found on my car in the Ikea parking lot during the 2015 Labor Day Weekend rush. Shortly after, I was immersed in the intense and frenetic world of the grape harvest in Dundee, Oregon. I was unable to listen to or watch the Georgia Football games. I was there in spirit and would check my Yahoo Sports app on a regular basis for updates. I was quite sad to hear about Nick Chub's injury and to see the Dawgs drop out of the top 25. Also sad about the fallout with Mark Richt. I thought he was a great coach.

I also received a random email about my blog post in watching Georgia football at the Brooklyn Park pub, but I was so busy that I don't think I ever responded. I'm glad that the word got out though! Go Dawgs!

Life's a...Coast?

Native Southern Idea of Beach

Recently I've come across quite a few quizzes on Facebook and such about "Which Beach Town Should You Move To?" These quizzes are a bit silly, but they also reveal something about our nation's preconceptions, simplifications and regional predilections. I, who live on the West Coast, took the quiz and my results said I should live in Wrightsville Beach, NC. My mom, who lives in Coastal South Carolina, and has always said that the beach was on the wrong side on the West Coast, got Carpentaria, California. I highly encourage you to Which Coast town should you live in? yourself and see if you agree with your results. 

I've just gotten back from a weekend camping at Beverly Beach State Park, and I'm also watching all the updates from my Southern friends playing at their respective beaches. Virtues about but they're mutually exclusive.

As a Southerner, I have to talk about this Beach vs. Coast terminology. And not just that, but the behavior that goes along with those terms. They are not exchangeable. The Pacific Northwest and the Southeastern interchange between land and ocean are so dramatically, drastically different. We cannot apply the same mores to each one. Indeed, we need to acknowledge them for the delightful and attractive attributes each can lay claim to. PNW it's the coast; SE it's the beach. 

Water Temperature

The Pacific is cold. One only gets in the water when one has on a wet suit. Little children, oblivious

Yeah, that's cold. It's August. 

to irrationally cold temperatures will delight in the tide pools. Their sweet mamas and papas will wrap them up in a warm blanket before too long. 

In the summer months, the Atlantic is bathtub warm. It's so darn hot, that that bathtub temperature alleviates the hotness of the air. It's wet, and one can dive beneath the surface or splash oneself on a float whilst drinking a cool libation. In a coozie. In fact, staying in the water from shortly after breakfast all the way until sundown is more or less the sign of a well tempered day. There may be a break for lunch, but not necessarily. 

Inland Ambient Coastal Temperature

My family lives on a tidal river in South Carolina. It's hot in the summer, and one can go down to the dock and just lay in a raft in the river all day. But when we really want to cool off, we take a trip to the beach. We plan week long stays at the beach. Growing up in Atlanta, going to school in Winston-Salem and Athens, living in Charlotte—what did we do in the summer when it was hot? Go to the beach. Where it was only slightly cooler. The first beach houses I remember staying at on Edisto Beach did not have air conditioning. We packed big window box fans in the car and put them in the windows at night. I can still remember the sound of rustling palm tree branches and the whirr of the fan. Somniferous. We were sunburnt and kicked the top sheet off, exhausted from the day's exertions we slept. 

Honestly, this is the hardest thing I've ever had to wrap my head around. It's just so contradictory for me. I drove from Carlton, Oregon, (in the confines of the Willamette Valley) to Lincoln City—about an hour and half a way. The temperature dropped by 40 degrees. No kidding. I was cold. I had to put on long pants and ... no, I had to put on almost all the clothing I packed with me. It was 55 degrees and I bought two bundles of firewood. I went out on the beach to watch the sunset, and I had to leave fairly quickly as the golden orb approached the horizon. I've worn the same manner of clothing in February at the beach as in August. Does not compute in my Southern brain. This is a COAST not a BEACH.

Coastal versus Beach Activities

That's some beauty (with sweaters in August)

Maybe it's my Southern superiority coming over me. I don't know. I want an Oregonian to explain this to me. Why, when it's 63 degrees and party cloudy, pretty much misty, are children, teenagers, grown adults wearing bikinis and bathing suits, playing frisbee, in general gallivanting as if it's warm and they're not uncomfortable? You don't need sunscreen! There's a layer of coastal fog hanging over the coast that's impenetrable. Bathing suits should be banned from the Oregon Coast. They don't belong. You can't get a tan and you're not bathing. Period. 

Beach combing is an activity that I condone for both coasts. In the South we find fossilized bones, shark's teeth and lovely shells. In the Pacific Northwest, we find gorgeous stones, drift wood and sedimentary fossils washed down from the cliffs. 

PNW has the unsurpassed awe inspiring beauty of the Pacific Ocean. The ability to build and enjoy a fire in humidity-free peace also endears me to the left coast. However, I will continue to have my feathers ruffled when folks out here say they're going to the beach. No. You're going to the coast. (Northerners can have their own opinions of The Shore—whatever that means). Maybe I'm just feeling a little homesick. I'd sure like to be sitting in a lounge chair, smelling of sunscreen, drinking a coldie and reading a good book. At any moment I'll rise up, stride to the surf, lounge back in the salt water and feel buoyed up by the salty embrace of the Atlantic Ocean. 

That's a salty, loving embrace at Edisto Beach, SC. My Grandparents are awesome! 

Southern AND Sustainable?!

I first heard of Dan Barber's book The Third Plate on NPR the other day. The fact that Southern food was singled out as the only truly sustainable American way of farming and eating was exciting. No, not the Foodtopia and epicenter of sustainable everything in the Pacific Northwest. Yes, The South. I have yet to see Hoppin' John on a menu west of the Mississippi.

In the American South, it was beans, collards and some ham. "In a dish, you had everything that supported that ecology," he says.

i

A view of Dan Barber's Stone Barns Center field and barns in Pocantico Hills, N.Y.

Nicole Franzen/Courtesy of Blue Hill Farm

But American tradition has fallen out of touch with the land. "There's no cuisine you can point to that has a 12-ounce center cut protein for dinner. ... That is an American phenomenon," Barber says

From an article in The Atlantic, I read Dan Barber's explanation of how farm-to-table practices in America aren't enough to be truly sustainable. The only place within the United States that has actually had a cuisine that fit the ecology of place was in the South.

That meat-centric plate is a great disservice to our soil, and to our ecology. It’s also a disservice to the rest of the world—because we’re exporting that model in a way that, in the truest sense of the word, is unsustainable. But we can find an alternative—what I came to call the Third Plate.

You find that in Southern cuisine, too. Hoppin’ John—a quintessential southern dish—is rice, but it’s also cowpeas. That leguminous crop was so important in the south, because it allowed the southerners to preserve their soil well enough to get them rice. Then, they mixed in collard greens, because collards helped desalinate the soil. (And some bacon, because pigs were also part of the agriculture.)

Last weekend I read a review of the book in the WSJ in Eugenia Bone's article "The Future of American Eating." Of course, it being a newspaper based in New York (damn Yankees), it doesn't mention this Southern connection. But what he does mention relates to my life in wine country. In the first of four sections in the book, "Soil"

Explores how some farming practices deplete the soil of nutrients by killing microbes and how others build healthy soil by feeding microbes. He compares industrial versus organic approaches to weed control and explains the role of grazing animals in soil health. 'How soil is managed,' writes Mr. Barber, 'and how a farmer negotiates weeds and pests, is the single best predictor of how food will taste.'

I've recently started a new job at Omero Cellar's in Carlton, Oregon, and I interviewed our new winemaker, Mr. Chad Stock about his winemaking philosophy in order to write a press release. What he said deeply related to what Mr. Barber is saying.

Stock explains that transparent winemaking, “allows wines to speak for themselves in a pure and true fashion. Pinot noir is all about nuance and it’s extremely adept at showing the subtleties of place.  Personal style preferences and winemaking additives blur the natural expression of the vineyard.“

Organic, and more importantly, biodynamic principles are important to Stock and the trajectory of Omero wines. He clarifies the joint importance of farming organically and implementing biodynamic principles in the vineyard and winery: “A vineyard is above and below the earth, so we want to farm the soil. We seek to show the significance in soil types and express the soil differences in the Willamette Valley. I’ll show you what your vineyard tastes like.”

By working without additives, using organic and biodynamic principles, Stock and Omero seek to create wines with distinctive character, authenticity and aromatic complexity.

While I am relatively new to the biodynamic farming and winemaking philosophy, I'm really eager to learn more. Like the John Muir quote that originally inspired Barber,  I find that everything is connected, from ideas to dirt:

When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.

Drinking Like Our Founding Fathers

I'm a little behind the times in documenting yet another cross over between my Southern roots and my Pacific Northwest presence in wine country. Turns out Southerners, including our Founding Fathers, liked vintages such as Sherry and Madeira.

At a recent blind wine tasting, Madeira was on the menu. I brought my trust copy of Garden & Gun from October-November 2013. This edition included the article, "Southern Vintage: Making the case for Madeira, Dixie's original drink" by Jonathan Miles. 

Just the introduction sucks a good Southerner in:

Not until distillers in Kentucky and Tennessee perfected the process did the link between the South and whiskey—especially bourbon—take hold. No, the South's original drink—the first beverage that pro to-Southerners embraced as their own, and the first to become associated with the region—was a wine (yeah, a wine) that you may never have tasted (but should, immediately): Madeira.

The qualifying parentheses and italics is spot on. I can just hear Southern family and friends clamoring the absurdity of claiming that a wine is a Southern drink.  Just another reason I love this magazine. It urges you to read on and be convinced or repulsed.

Unlike, say, red table wine, Madeira tastes refreshing in the tropical heat, and doesn't suffer from sweltering storage. Mitchell credits the wine's high levels of acidity and sugar for that refreshing quality, which might also explain its affinity to the Southern palate—acidity and sugar, of course being the defining characteristics of the later blockbuster Southern drink, cola.

But we all know Mr. Miles is referring to Coca-Cola. According to Bufford Calloway, that's Sweet Dixie Champagne.

Back in February at the wine tasting I attended, we tasted seven different Madeiras, including two of the three mentioned in the G&G article. Not surprisingly, we missed the $150 bottle suggested from 1971. Even with the wholesale price tag, that's too spendy for a weekly meeting. The Broadbent 10-Year Malmsey and Historic Series Savannah Verdelho were all around favorites, however. Good suggestions G&G! Not only that, but I may have upped your readership in the Pacific Northwest.

We snow how you feel, Atlanta

Day 5 of PDXsnowpocolypse

Snowpocolypse. Snowmageddeon. I typed those words into Google, resulting in mentions of Portland as well as Atlanta. You're not alone Atlanta. Elsewhere in the United States are places ill equipped to handle a winter blast. Both of us are ridiculous in the face of frigid temperatures and precipitation. I love the absurdity that results.

With plenty of friends still in Atlanta, I kept tabs on how snow went down. I absolutely loved the SNL skit with Buford Calloway

"flakes of devil's dandruff"  

"climbed into my white Escalade and headed to the safest place I could think of…the Interstate."

"sweet Dixie Champagne…I am referring to Coca-Cola"

"The skies parted and the fair Georgia lady shone her golden radiance down uptown the Yankee Slush! And I knew…in that moment…that the SUN WILL RISE AGAIN!" 

One of my favorite Yankee newscasters continued to needle Hotlanta later on the Daily Show.
and Jon Stewart's needling of Hotlanta.

I have been trapped by the "Connecticut Cocaine" here in Portland for the past few days. I haven't been able to go to work for the past 4 days. I actually drove to Government Camp to cross country ski on Thursday, barely making it back in my southern vehicle in time for things to get really nasty. I was sliding around on the ice and traffic was already sorely affected. Little did I know I'd be able to XC ski for the next few days right outside my door.

Portland has it's own issues: lots of people who know how to drive in the elements; lots of people who have cars that should be able to navigate but can't; lots of people who have cars that can't make it and who don't know how and still try. Yes, all those people on the roads make for nasty business. Of course Portland has all those irritatingly fit people who continue to run and bike in it. One of my friends just posted this interview on Facebook. I'd say Portland is just as ridiculous as Atlanta, just in a different world of silliness.

This winter precipitation has made watching the Winter Olympics in Sochi a bit more interesting.