Crazy Virgo

Rosé season

That's rosé, as in row-say. The delicious,blush pink-colored wine that makes every summer afternoon perfect. It's so intoxicatingly good that I don't mind not drinking it all winter, and waiting 6 long, cold months to uncork (or unscrew, in some cases) a bottle. Much like drinking a hearty cab in a sweater in front of a fire just feels right, sipping a slightly chilled glass of rose on a patio overlooking a body of water, with nothing but blue skies and smiles all around is beyond. Sure, I love white wines, and summer brews and margaritas and mojitos and sangria and all the wonderful drinks that satiate the palette during the hot summer months. But, when the taste of strawberry, ripe cherry, sophistication and refreshment hit your lips, you'll care not about whatever is going on around you - be it a neighbor loudly mowing the lawn or a over-chatty woman at the next table over. Rather, you'll be dreaming of St. Tropez, a sailboat, and a cabana boy named Sven. A glass makes anywhere you are, better. Anyone you're with, more interesting. Anyone you're looking at, more attractive. Really, there's no downside to drinking a glass of Rose. 

Oh, the best part? Don't worry about that 4th glass. Rose is the best kind of drunk. Yes, there will be a headache later. Isn't there always? But, while in the rose haze, you'll be the nicest, friendly, most lovable, interesting drunk in 6 states. Rose somehow has a calming, beautifying affect, once consumed. So go ahead. Fill 'er up and top it off. Not even a male wearing a shirt unbuttoned one too many to show his well-groomed chest hair and gold-braided necklace, hitting on you can spoil this high.

If you fear it, or "don't like it", then get the thought that it is White Zinfandel out of your skull. It is most certainly not. White Zinfandel is left over, bottom of the barrel grapes mixed with sugar.  Great. Glad we got that out of the way.

Some of my favorites:

Les Jamelles Cinsault Rose - at $9 a bottle, you can't afford to go the summer without having a bottle on hand at all times. No Saturday on the patio is complete without a bottle of this. Really... don't try it. 

FFC, Sophia Rose - Francis knows wine like he knows the Vietnamese jungle, and this is no exception. Plus, you totally feel like you've summoned the spirit of Sofia Coppolla when you drink it. So be aloof and pretentious. It's perfect, subtle, clean, and modern.

Crios Rose of Malbec: Seriously.... it's usually always right around $10 a bottle and will blow your mind. You'll want to drink it all immediately. But don't. Savor it. And keep it a good temp - chilled, not cold. Because it's a malbec, it's more spicy than sweet, as a lot of Rose's are. A lovely diversion on a Sunday afternoon. 

If you have me over for dinner, cheese, or conversation this summer, have a bottle of any of these on hand and see what happens. It might turn out to be one of the greatest afternoon into evenings of your life.

A love affair with the pig

I love pig. 

Snout to tail. 

I'm not sure when it started, but for as long as I can remember, there hasn't been a time that I didn't love pork- save for a brief 6 months when I dabbled with vegetarianism, luckily I didn't get addicted.

I'm sure I was fed pureed Gerber Baby Bacon as a wee one. Then, ate pork and beans as a child, camping across the Midwest. My diet has always consistently included steady servings of bacon and eggs, BLTs, ham & cheese sandos, canadian bacon and pineapple pizzas, sausage and mushroom pizza. I was raised on pork ribs. I'm from Kansas City, for the love.  Pretty much all my favorite foods utilize the pig somehow. 

My last meal menu would red something like: Carolina pulled-pork sando, a BLT, a side of biscuits & sausage gravy, a New York slice of pizza with sausage and mushroom, and a spinach salad with pancetta. Maybe a Bacon Soymilkshake. And definitely, a chocolate cupcake with chocolate icing and bacon bits on top. Call it disgusting, but I recently had this at my local cupcakery, Tee & Cakes, and it was sheer heaven. The sweetness of the chocolate and the saltiness of the bacon merge together and melt in the mouth. I can't believe I have lived 31 years without this in my life. But, better to continue the next 30 with it in heavy rotation.

So, you get it then, right? I love, love, love, love, can't live without, PORK. Given that information, you can imagine my elation, when this was set in front of me:

A heaping plate of over a pound of Carolina smoked pulled pork. For me. All for me. It was some of the best pork my mouth had ever had the pleasure of tasting. If you ever find yourself in Detroit- and god knows why you would, it's post-war Berlin up there- get your ass to Slows BBQ. They must have a smoker the size of a Hummer outback, because they're serving up some prime-time swine, deliciously rubbed and smoked to perfection. 

Warning: obscene details of me loving some pork to follow.

I ate and ate and ate. And, ate and ate. Took a deep breathe. Ate and ate and ate. Took a time out. Imagined myself finishing the plate with a lick of the lips and a smile. Then tried to eat more. I couldn't. I stared at the several hocks left on my plate. Smelled the smoky aroma. Shed several tears. And gave up. GAVE UP! I let the pig get the best of me. I couldn't do it. I tried my best and ate until the sides of my stomach were protesting and the button on my pants was holding on for dear life. It was mind over matter and matter actually one. I physically couldn't put one more strand of this dear friend in my mouth. I couldn't set aside my own selfishness to overcome a painfully full stomach and finish it. I left a soldier behind. Many of them.

I want to publicly apologize to all my pork loving compadres out there for letting you down. We single handedly work together to keep the Organic, naturally raised, vegetarian-fed Pork industry going. And I set us back by wasting this perfectly good pork. Me, a confessed pork-a-holic, didn't go overboard for my addiction. I couldn't take one for the team. And, I regret it. 

Or do I? I wanted to make it a happy memory. I was silently afraid that if I overdosed, I wouldn't ever love pulled pork as much as I did at that very moment again. I wanted to always look back and remember this special moment, and now I will. 

The moment me and some pulled pork came so close to transcendence.

I love pig.

Boulder just got better (and more delicious).

If you know me, you know I love burgers (and pizza, and cupcakes and bacon, and pork in general - but that's another post). And, you probably know that Boulder wasn't necessarily my first choice of cities to live in. Don't get me wrong, I do have a crush on it now and then, and fall in and out of love with it every day, but.... that's another post as well. 

Enter LARKBURGER.

You will now have to physically remove me from Boulder or offer to FedEx this orgasmically delicious burger to me once a week, fresh, to get me to move, because now that Larkburger is at my disposal any given day, this crazyvirgo ain't goin' anywhere.

Larkburger and I met a year ago in Edwards, CO. It was love at first bite. Literally. I bit into this burger and said "I love you." The juicy, perfectly grilled medium rare meat set carefully on a buttery, toasty bun, with melted Tillamook cheddar,creamy mayo, a fresh-cut red-onion, and crispy lettuce stacked on top nearly made me cry. It's wrapped in paper and sweetly tucked into a little box it calls home until I devour it.

I dare say my mouth has not had the pleasure of eating a burger this fine. And, to make the situation even more desirable, there are truffle fries with parmesan and $5 milkshakes. If anyone tried to make conversation with me at this first meeting between me and Larkburger, I apologize. My eyes, nose, ears and mouth were dedicated to this hot, delicious beauty. I made love to this burger. I said good-bye to the last bite with a tear and a kiss. My first time with LB was an experience I shan't forget.

I've visited Larkburger several times since them, like a secret lover I'd go back to time and time again, but I knew I couldn't commit. Boulder is 2 hours from Edwards.

Now, Larkburger has opened in Boulder. Thank you sweet, 8 lb. 5 oz. baby Jesus. It's on. Love affair, back. I will visit at least once a week, I promise you. And, if you knew what was good for you, you would too. Don't worry about gaining weight from eating a 1/2 lb. organic stack of meat. We live in Boulder for Christ's' sake. It's a law that we engage in some sort of athleticism once a day, and twice in the summer. And, if you gain a few...psh...it's worth it for this hunka burger. Let me put it to you this way. If it was between Gentleman Husband and Larkburger, well, let's say I might be living and working at LB. Yes, it's THAT good.

Get your meat-loving ass into Larkburger stat.