If someone built a wine bar in my heart, it'd be Terroir. In their two Manhattan locations, as well as at their sister restaurant Hearth (home of Next Iron Chef contender Marco Canora), general manager, sommelier and proud son of Canada Paul Grieco and his merry band of oenophiles enact a sort of grape-based activism, bringing under-drunk, often challenging wines to the fore.
As the Hearth website notes, "The list is meant to be confrontational as the majority of wines are not well known. But have no fear, we are here to guide you and educate you – without the intimidation factor."
Amen to that. Some of the most exquisite and unpretentious melding of food and booze I've ever had has been at the hands of Grieco and Co. - including, 4 1/2 years ago, a Sherry-centric dinner that paired courses with many permutations of the fortified Spanish wine. That dinner has flitted across my mind lately, so I reached out to the team via e-mail.
Recipes continued from: Bon Appétit editor-in-chief Barbara Fairchild's favorite desserts.
Pumpkin Cheesecake with Marshmallow–Sour Cream Topping and Gingersnap Crust
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Barbara Fairchild joined the team at Bon Appétit magazine in 1978 - and 22 years later, in 2000, she became the magazine's editor-in-chief. Now, after 32 years at Bon Appétit - serving the last ten at the helm - Barbara Fairchild is moving on.
That's not to say that more than three decades at a food magazine doesn't create some sweet memories along the way. She chronicles such in her new cookbook Bon Appétit Desserts: The Cookbook for All Things Sweet and Wonderful.
Join her on a sweet trip down memory lane, won't you?
My Five Favorite Dessert Memories During My 32 Years at Bon Appétit: Barbara Fairchild
If popular culture is to be believed, there is no such thing as a Thanksgiving meal uninterrupted by drama. It might be a tipsy and belligerent uncle, a cook's meltdown when the entire table skips her gluey mashed potatoes, or a cousin who decides that the lull between the clearing of the turkey carcass and the presentation of the pumpkin pie is the ideal time to announce that his roommate isn't, uh, just his roommate. TV and movies are rife with over-the-top T-Day debacles, but is that the case in real life?
Most of mine have gone smoothly, so the few incidents that occurred have burned onto my brain like marshmallows on the edge of a sweet potato casserole pan. A guest power-chugged cheap Champagne in the last 15 minutes of her stay, smashing a bottle on the street when we tried to hail a cab for her. A relative who will remain nameless phoned her parents, stone cold sober, and berated them for not making her feel loved enough as a kid. My Grandmother deemed me a "slut" for having at one time had a platonic male roommate.
I celebrate Thanksgiving with several friends now.
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