(oh-oh-oh) the sweetest thing

Came home to cookies outside my door. My dinner appetite is now blissfully ruined.

Thank you, dear friend!

"blizzard conditions and some ice glazing expected"

Storm coming. Time for mini marshmallows.

hello UP

Stopped for lunch in Upper Michigan on the way to Canadia. That's a deep dish pasty.

summatime

Eighty-five degrees in my apartment equals Root Beer Float Time.

apple pie

Made an apple pie last night. And yes, it's already half gone. *ahem* I like pie, OK?

butternut squash pie

My day today. Om nom nom.

sunday picnic

Today I head back to Minnesota. Farewell for now, New York City.

a bowl of coffee

Le Gamin café au lait. 

pastéis de belém

Pastéis de Nata are little Portuguese custard tarts. The Pastéis de Belém shop in Belém, Lisbon is famous for their pastéis de nata, because they've been going since 1837, because their recipe is über-secret (rumor has it only three people know it), and because they're soooo good. They sell so many in a day that your little custard cup of heaven is guaranteed to be served to you fresh out of the oven, still warm. A sprinkling of cinnamon and sugar? Yes, please.

on porto and port (and european decorations)

Porto is port wine's namesake, and the place where most official port wine is blended and aged. Technically, though, the warehouses are across the river from Porto, in a separate town (although you wouldn't know it to look at it) called Vila Nova de Gaia. The big port producers all have Hollywood-style signs above their warehouses, peppering the hillside with "Sandeman" and "Graham's" and "Dow" and the like. The main tourist attractions in Porto, therefore, are the warehouses, where you can get a tour and—more to the point—a tasting for a few euros or less.

I went to Croft's warehouse for my free tour and tasting—and tasted a ruby, a white, and a twenty-year-old tawny. I could wax pretty eloquent about the history of port and its different types, but I'll spare you. Suffice it to say that I really like port. A lot a lot.

The top photo is of a Porto street (or two) and its seasonal attire. So far I've found most of Europe to be very good at dressing their cities for the holidays.

the douro valley

Port wine starts here, in the Douro Valley. After the grapes are harvested and crushed, the juice spends the winter in the valley, then makes its way downriver to the warehouses in Porto where it gets blended and aged.

The terrain of the Douro Valley is difficult, and the soil very rocky. The steep slopes require major terracing, and the poor soil doesn't allow much to grow other than grapes, olives, and almonds, all requiring roots to reach deep down to find water—some extending more than 50 feet through fissures in the schist.

I took the train into the Douro to the town of Régua (also called Peso da Régua). It was rainy and I didn't have a car so I couldn't explore the countryside, but there was a small (and interesting) museum on the Douro Valley and port wine that kept me occupied for hours. The train ride itself, though, winding alongside the river, was worth the trip alone.

[Note: I've given up trying to get this thing to upload my video of the train ride, so have posted stills from it instead. Click on the image and you'll see a larger version.]

Ελληνική Κουζίνα (greek cuisine)

Mmm, Greece. Mmm, gyros.

Souvlaki, gyros, the thick yogurt, the greek salads, tzatziki, moussaka, not to mention the various pastries... it's easy to eat well (and pretty cheaply) in Greece.

orvieto, italy

goodbye, chicken

Rural Minnesota time moves significantly slower than New York City time. Shockingly enough. Except for when the neighbor's wolfhound grabs one of the chickens and bolts off. Then time moves pretty fast as you're running down the gravel road after it. (The chicken, um, didn't make it.)

In other news, this year's grape harvest is in. That's my grandpa showing off the spoils.