Does your pooch seem a little parched? Perhaps he or she needs a bowlful of Dawg Grog. Bend, Oregon brewer Daniel Keeton loves his dog, Lola Jane as much as he loves serving up suds in Boneyard Brewery's tasting room.
This is the third installment of "Eat This List" - a regularly recurring list of things chefs, farmers, writers and other food experts think you ought to know about.
Yesterday, I was happily slurping away at my noodle and bok choy soup, when suddenly I felt it: sand rasping against my molars. I pushed the bowl away and swished my mouth out with a few tall glasses of water, but I was haunted by phantom gravel for the rest of the day.
Yes, there are far more pressing issues in the world than a little bit of foreign matter in my food, but we've all got our issues. When a restaurant can't take the time to properly rinse its greens, I can't help but wonder what else they're skimping on. I have an intense and visceral reaction to the feeling of grit in my food and if I do happen to return to a restaurant where that happened, I find myself bracing before each bite. It's mostly easier for me not to return.
Was I too easily aggrieved? I turned to Twitter to ask people what might cause them to cross a restaurant off their list. The answers came in fast and furious from food writers, chefs, servers and diners alike.
Ray Isle (@islewine on Twitter) is Food & Wine's executive wine editor. We trust his every cork pop and decant – and the man can sniff out a bargain to boot. Take it away, Ray.
Yes, it’s that time of year again, when hearty Ontario winemakers (and others) freeze their - well, their somethings - off, in order to bring you bottles of the sweet, unctuous liquid known as ice wine. The stuff is impressively popular, Canada alone produces more than 1 million liters in a good year, and impressively sweet as well - Inniskillin’s acclaimed Riesling Icewine, to take one example, has 234 grams of sugar in each liter. Basically, that’s like an eight-ounce cup of coffee with 12 teaspoons of sugar in it.
Drinking something that sweet would be well beyond cloying were it not for ice wine’s intense acidity. In wine, the perception of sweetness is checked by higher acidity. The opposite holds true as well: If ice wines weren’t sweet, they’d be so tart you’d never want to drink them. In well-made ones, though, there’s balance, resulting in a kind of peachy-lychee-tropical-honeyed nectar that many people find utterly delicious.