One way winery owners get good press is to invite writers to join them for lavish meals at chic restaurants, and then pour, pour, pour their newest, oldest, and best bottles.

It's hard to stay objective as the candles glow, and the wines and good food have their effect, and we wine writers struggle to keep our asbestos firewalls intact to protect our editorial integrity.

That's my full disclosure for this posting, because I'm writing about tasting wines from Rocca Family Vineyards, with owners Mary Rocca and Eric Grigsby, and their winemaker Paul Colantuoni at Fleur de Lys restaurant in San Francisco.

The task before us.

The winery makes top quality, near cult-status Cabernet Sauvignon from grapes grown in Yountville-- just south of the Yountville Mounts, and from Coombsville on the hilly east side of Napa. The wines have taken first place and a silver medal in some major tastings under the direction of outgoing winemaker Celia Masyczek.

We arrived for chitchat in a private room, and tasted the winery's entry level wine, the 2006 Bad Boy Red, which is a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, and Petit Verdot ($33).

It seemed a big, unruly mouthful of wine, hot (too alcoholic), full of raspberries-- and maybe some blueberry-- in the mouth. I found it to be a good example of recent California trends I'm not fond of: the worship of power, alcohol and fruit at the cost of nuance.

At the table we tried the 2001 Cabernet Sauvignon, which is now almost impossible to find. It also seemed hot in the nose, but it was supple and luscious in the mouth, tasting of licorice, tar, and black currant. The wine really came to life with the first course, an orgy of truffle dishes: truffled corn muffin, truffled vichysoisse, and truffled scrambled eggs. It was like plunging your face into the leafy, wet crotch of an oak tree-- in a good way.

Rocca Syrah and Cabernet

We followed that with the 2005 Syrah ($45), still a bit hot, but with nice mouthfuls of bacon, boysenberry, leather, lavender, and cocoa. (For more details see Alan Goldfarb's story on cool climate Syrahs at Appellation America. The San Francisco Chronicle also posted a positive review.)

I was still waiting for my “Wow!” moment, which came when we tried the 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon ($74), a knockout that blended chocolate, licorice, new oak, cedar, and tobacco. Mmmm. More please.

As we tasted the wines, we were moving through food courses. Fleur de Lys is a more-is-more kind of place. Our meal was very good, but primped to the point where each dish required a short speech from one of the servers to explain it. I refer you back to that truffle plate. And then there was a plate of beef tartare, chestnut mousse, and a fabulous choucroute gelée. (That last is basically a sauerkraut jelly; odd but delicious, and great with the wines.

Symphony of winter flavors

Still the food, with all its manipulation, seemed an odd match with the personalities of the wines and their makers. It seemed frou-frou, they seemed very down-to-earth. Mary Rocca went to Tomales High School and loves to garden. She was a dentist in Rochester, Minnesota, before she returned to the North Bay, and found a vineyard she could afford. She also owns the Palace Market in Point Reyes Station-- stocking grocery store shelves with canned goods will keep anyone grounded in the real world.

Eric Grigsby

Her husband Eric Grigsby is a good old boy from a blue- collar family in Knoxville. He's the sexy dude in the cowboy hat on the label for the Bad Boy Red, and he's also an M.D. specializing in pain management. He and Rocca have set up the Grigsby Foundation to provide palliative care to people with AIDS in Mali, Africa.

So where the food was fussy, they seemed true to their terroir. And now Rocca and Grigsby are taking a big gamble, putting their faith in their new winemaker, Paul Colantuoni, a sweet-faced, bespectacled, young man with an italo-fro, who is taking from the esteemed Masyczek.

Mary Rocca and Paul Colantuoni

Colantuoni's a Princeton graduate who studied chemical engineering. He worked as a tour guide at Robert Mondavi (more prestigious than you would think), and apprenticed in Tuscany and at Domaine de Vieux Télégraphe in Châteauneuf-du-Pape in France's southern Rhône Valley, before working under Masyczek in Napa. She recommended him to Rocca.

Colantuoni says all the right things. He quotes Masyczek-- herself quoting dozens of great winemakers--saying, "90% of the winemaking is in the vineyard." He told me the wines aren't sulfured at crush, because they ferment with native yeasts, a tricky business designed to preserve character and terroir.

The proof seemed to be there in the 2007 Cabernet Sauvignon's barrel samples we tasted with dessert; one from Coombsville, another from Yountville. Colantuoni is managing the blending and aging of these wines, and they seem well structured for long aging, loaded with black currants, and as distinct in their character as the people making them.

A few more notes. The Rocca tasting left me thirsty for white wines, and I want to suggest one recent favorite, the 2006 Patianna Mendocino Sauvignon Blanc. This is great, biodynamic Sauvignon Blanc, smelling of fresh mown hay and melon with crisp lemon-lime acid in the mouth. The 2005 was $9.99 at the Portrero Safeway the other day. The 2006 ($15) is just as good.

I also wanted to leave you with another Syrah recommendation for the cold nights ahead this winter. The Meyer Family 2004 Syrah ($35) from the Yorkville Bench of the Anderson Valley in Mendocino is loaded with bacon, wrapped around cherries, dipped in chocolate. I love this wine. Meyer Family Cellars also makes a killer Zinfandel Port.

Gung Hay Fat Choy, everyone.

Sort of.

Roughly translated from Chinese, Gung Hay Fat Choy means "best wishes and congratulations." In other words, Happy Chinese New Year.

But that seems just a little too chipper for my tastes.

Sure, we've got Hope's Cheerleader in the White House, which may be an excellent start, and we have finally left the dismal Year of the Rat behind us, but what is it that we really have to look forward to?

Well, besides a bleak, blank uncertainty, we're heading into the Year of the Ox.

At first glance, this certainly seems promising enough. Oxen are strong, hard working animals. According to Chinese astrology, the Ox is also patient and tenacious. It can be counted on to get whatever job it has been set to done. It is even suggested that those born under the sign of the Ox share these qualities and would make excellent tennis pros, surgeons, and hair stylists. Walt Disney and George Clooney were born under the sign. But, then again, so were Adolf Hitler, Saddam Hussein, and Tori Spelling.

The Ox is not considered an especially intelligent animal (See: Tori Spelling). Perhaps this lack of smarts is what led him to his fated, castrated state in the first place. With its lack of virility, of full potency, will this Ox plow its way to better times for us? Let's hope so. I'm sure the market watchers were hoping for something a little different. Like a bull.

Things are rough, no question about that. People are losing their jobs, and those who still have them are tightening their belts. That is, if that haven't already sold them on Ebay. A general sense of malaise is beginning to infect the mindsets of even the cheeriest Pollyannas.

And it's irritating me. So I've decided to channel that irritation into baking something. Like fortune cookies. Or, more correctly, misfortune cookies. Though I came up with the idea independently, the thought is not an original one-- they've been done before with varying degrees of success. I have chosen not to examine the others for fear of plagiarizing any dooming, damning fortunes, but I am cheered to know that there are others out there of like mind.

I have always found the idea of the fortune cookie mildly off-putting, since I've never bought into the notion that a baked lump of flour and sugar was somehow empowered with the ability to decide my future, though I admit I have always welcomed them at the end of a big, Chinese (American) meal because, well, it's about all the dessert one is ever going to get at a Chinese restaurant. Dessert must seem like an odd waste of time to a culture whose cuisine strives for balance. Sweetness can be found co-habitating with Mr. Salt, Miss Sour, and Sr. Bitter in a number of dishes.

The misfortune cookie, I think, strikes this balance much more accurately than the ordinary fortune cookie, with its vague, sometimes chirpy prognostications and lucky numbers. Sure, the sugar and salt in the recipe are the same, but a refreshingly sour note of bitterness found tucked inside bring the cookie's yin some much-needed yang.

Serve them to unsuspecting friends and family members and watch their faces as they learn that they are destined to someday chew off their own foot or will eventually be exposed and humiliated for past wrong-doing. Go ahead, it's fun.

If the recipients of misfortune begin to turn against you, you might want to laugh and pretend you made the cookies to provide a valuable moral lesson. You could say that these cookies merely illustrate the fact that it is impossible to divine the future, so what's the point, really? That things aren't nearly so bad as what's written inside those cookies. Things could be much, much worse.

And then you might want to suggest a good pedicurist, just in case.

Misfortune Cookies

Makes about 12 deeply distressing cookies.

The batter for these cookies is remarkably easy to make. The baking and shaping of them is another story. So much for the theory that Chinese food is 90% prep and 10% cooking. Of course, the Fortune Cookie is a Californian invention, so you can blame us, if you like.

The making of them is somewhat labor-intensive on the back end. Purchasing them is certainly easier, but then you would be surrendering the chance to play God by deciding the fates and fortunes of your hungry friends and family. More free time or unmitigated power? It's a toss up.

For those of you not entirely mean-spirited, you may wish to include one Pandora-like message of hope, but that would be mixing mythologies. Fate is in your hands.

Ingredients:

1 egg white

1/8 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/8 teaspoon almond extract

a pinch of salt

1/4 cup all-purpose flour

1/4 cup white sugar

Preparation:

1. Compose as many hideous fortunes as you deem necessary on strips of paper about 4 inches long and 1/2 inch wide.

2. Preheat oven to 400F. Grease two cookie sheets with butter or, if you have a silpat or other such baking pad, use it instead. Cutting a round stencil three inches in diameter from a plastic lid is most helpful in shaping these cookies. I suggest you follow this advice.

3. Beat together egg white and both extracts until quite foamy. Sift in flour, sugar, and salt; blend into egg white mixture.

4. Place stencil onto cookie sheet and add one teaspoon of batter in the center of it. Using and offset spatula, bring the batter around to the edges, making as smooth a shape as possible. Repeat, leaving at least 4 inches of space between cookies. I suggest you start off by baking two at a time to test your misfortune cookie-making skills.

5. Bake cookies for 5 minutes, or until they have turned a golden color around the edges. The center of the cookies should remain pale. You may prepare the second batch as the first are baking, if you like.

6. Remove cookies from oven and very, very quickly remove them from the baking sheet with a large, offset metal spatula. Turn them upside down onto a wooden cutting board. Place fortunes in the center of each, fold them in half so that the edges meet. Pull the pointed edged towards each other and let them cool. Of course, I have never been able to develop the speed necessary to accomplish this feat even with one cookie, let alone two. If you are as slow as I am in these matters, I would suggest the following:

When cookies are finished baking, pull them from the oven, pry them from their baking sheet as previously mentioned. Now turn them upside down on the same baking sheet and pop them back in the oven. Count to ten, open the oven door, and then proceed to shape the cookies while there are still inside the oven. Aside from the potential for burning one's hands, this is a most effective method.

Repeat until finished.

Serve fresh with a warm smile and a cold heart.

Tangy barbecue sauce dripping over slow-cooked pork on a bun. Yum. I freely admit that I am a fan of all things pork. I love pork chops, bacon, and roast loin, not to mention all those sausages. But there's something astonishing about taking one of the least expensive cuts of pork you can buy and turning it into one of the tenderest and juiciest sandwiches you can eat. Ah -- the miracle of pork.

When you're having a large group of people over, pulled pork sandwiches are a great menu option. In addition to the dish being pretty cost effective, it takes very little prep time and even less hands-on cooking time to make. But forget the pragmatic reasons. The real rationale behind making pulled pork is its crowd appeal -- it’s just one of those dishes that people get excited about eating. Although it’s not something most of us have on a regular basis, pork sandwiches laden with tasty barbecue sauce is a treat few would turn down.

Although traditional pulled pork is often cooked in a smoker or slowly barbecued with wood chips, I like to let mine roast at a leisurely pace in a covered pan in the oven. I don’t own a smoker and am more comfortable using my oven than the barbecue, so this works well for me. I also love the way the house smells while the meat cooks. I realize this method of preparing pulled pork would be sacrilege to anyone who grew up in the South, but I’m not a Southerner, so I am a peace with my technique.

There are a few essentials to making a great pulled pork sandwich that should not be overlooked.

1. The meat should sit overnight, or for at least 3-4 hours, with a rub on it before you cook it. This both flavors and tenderizes the meat.

2. You need to make a nice cider vinegar sauce to pour over the pork. Although some recipes say you can use store-bought barbecue sauce, apple cider vinegar gives the dish its tangy signature flavor. It’s also easy and fast to make, so please whip it up yourself.

3. Serving the pork on fluffy white bread rolls is key to the final result. White hamburger buns will suffice, but anything made from whole wheat or with a crunchy crust should be avoided. The pork just tastes better when nestled into doughy white rolls soaked with sauce.

So if you're up for some porky goodness, here's a recipe you might try.

Pulled Pork

Makes enough meat for 12 -14 sandwiches

Ingredients:
3-4 lbs pork butt
1 Tbsp salt
½ cup brown sugar
2 Tbsp chili Powder
1 Tbsp paprika
1 Tbsp onion powder
1 Tbsp dried thyme
1 tsp dried celery seed
1 tsp dried ground mustard seed
1 tsp Black pepper

Note: I sometimes use 1 Tbsp chili powder and 1 Tbsp chipotle powder

Preparation:
1. Combine all ingredients except the pork butt in a bowl and mix thoroughly.
2. Set pork butt on a baking dish or plate and cover with the rub on all side. Gently massage the rub into the meat.
3. Cover the meat and set it in the refrigerator overnight or up to 3-4 hours.
4. When you're ready to start cooking, place your pork in a large Le Creuset dutch oven with the top on, or cover your baking dish tightly with foil.
5. Set the dish into the oven, which should be preheated to 350 degrees (325 if using a convection oven).
6. Bake for at least 3 hours without disturbing. Try to avoid taking the cover off the pan to check the meat as you’ll release steam each time you do this, and you need the steam to help keep the roast moist and juicy while it cooks.
7. After your three hours are up, take the meat out of the oven and set it on a dish to rest for 5-10 minutes.
8. Then, start breaking the meat up into small pieces. If your pork butt was tied with butcher string, be sure to remove the string before you start doing this step. I use two forks to break the meat up. Just place the tines into the meat and pull (yes, it really is pulled pork). The meat should easily separate.
9. Heat your buns in the already warmed oven for about five minutes.
10. Place a healthy scoop of pork on each bun and top with the sauce. Serve.

Pulled Pork Cider Vinegar Sauce

Ingredients:
1 cup apple cider vinegar
1 cup ketchup
2/3 cup brown sugar
1/3 cup molasses
1 tsp dried yellow mustard
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper (or as much as you’d like)
1 Tbsp Worcestershire sauce
Salt and pepper to taste

Preparation:
1. Combine all ingredients in a pot and mix thoroughly.
2. Heat until the sauce starts to bubble and then simmer for at least ten minutes on low.
3. Add salt and pepper to taste. You may also wish to add more cayenne pepper.
4. Serve with pulled pork sandwiches.

Feeling crabby? On the West Coast our crabs are the Dungeness variety, as opposed to the soft shell crabs or Blue crabs found on the East Coast. They are considered a "best choice" for sustainability according the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch. Dine at local restaurants in February and enjoy special crab dishes and tasting menus. Use your Signature Visa card and receive a commemorative cookbook feature over forty prominent chefs and restaurants, including Chris Cosentino of Incanto, Bruce Hill of Bix and Craig Stoll of Delfina.

Dungeness Crab Week is the second of three seasonal city-wide food celebrations to promote San Francisco chefs and restaurants. As a part of the celebration, the 7th annual Crab Cracking Contest at Union Square benefiting the San Francisco 49ers Foundation will be held Saturday, February 28. Union Square chefs paired with San Francisco 49ers and local celebrities will compete in a crab cracking contest. Enjoy tastes of the created crab dishes, a beer and wine garden as well as music and other activities for the entire family.

What: Dungeness Crab Week

When: February 19 - March 1, 2009

Where: Participating San Francisco restaurants include 1300 Fillmore, Bix, Delfina, Ducca and Jardiniere.

How: Make reservations

Enjoy this fresh take on crab, from Mark Dommen, Chef/Partner from One Market Restaurant.

Dungeness Crab and Asian Pear Salad 

Ingredients:
2 Asian pears
10 large fresh mint leaves, plus more small leaves
1 green onion
About 1 1/2 tablespoons lemon olive oil
1 lemon, juiced
Pinch cayenne chili power
1/2 pound Dungeness crab meat
8 large shelled sections Dungeness crab legs
2 French breakfast radishes
2 cups maché, rinsed and drained 
4 tablespoons Straus organic yogurt
1 tablespoon basil oil or mild extra-virgin olive oil
 
Preparation: 
1. Peel pears, core, and julienne fruit on a Japanese mandolin with medium teeth blade.  In a bowl, mix pears with 1 tablespoon each lemon olive oil and juice, cayenne, and sea salt to taste.
 
2. Stack large mint leaves and cut into fine slivers. Finely dice green onion. Mix mint and onion with pears.
 
3.  In another bowl, gently mix crab meat with remaining lemon oil and lemon juice to taste.
 
4. Rinse radishes; cut into a fine julienne and mix with a few drops lemon oil and lemon juice. 
 
5. Spoon 1 tablespoon yogurt onto center of 4 plates, streaking artistically. On each plate, set a ring mold in yogurt. Fill molds equally with pear salad; press to compact evenly. Top equally with crab meat; press to compact evenly. Carefully lift off molds.
 
To serve:
Top each salad with 2 crab leg pieces, garnish with radishes, maché, and tiny mint leaves; drizzle with basil oil.
 
Makes 4 portions

Rule #1 of being a foodie: Never turn down an invitation to a pig roast.
Rule #2 of being a foodie: When invited to said pig roast, bring foods that will complement and heighten the piggy experience.

There are very few foods that can't be made better with a little bit of spicy goodness. And I take great pride in figuring out exactly what spice will work well on each food. Red pepper flakes are great for pasta and soups, but not tacos. I love Patak's chile relish on roast beef, and The Pepper Plant's hot pepper sauce on chicken tacos. Harissa has been playing a large part in my kitchen ever since a good friend made some, and I have found it to be the perfect complement to a bowl of rice with tofu and vegetables.

When I was invited to a pig roast by some good friends this weekend, I tried to figure out the perfect spicy condiment that was going to enhance the pig without overpowering the delicious flavor. I settled on giardiniera, which is a concoction of pickled vegetables marinated with spicy peppers. It is known as sotto aceti in Italian, and features a salad-like mixture of lots of different vegetables: bell pepper, olives, celery, carrots, cauliflower and small onions to name a few. In Italy, it's common to see jars of beautifully arranged pickled vegetables available for purchase in stores. In the U.S., giardiniera is prominently featured as a condiment for Italian beef sandwiches as made in Chicago. I thought the acidity of the giardiniera would go well with the roasted pig, and I was right. Though most of our pork eating involved standing around the pig eating it with our hands, once I got to the buffet and ate the pork with the giardiniera, I thought they went together very well as did many of the guests.

I opted for a simple giardiniera with only cauliflower, carrots and peppers. The recipe can be adjusted to add in any of the aforementioned vegetables, or anything that would do well pickled in a spicy manner. You could let this marinate for as little as a couple of hours, but I think that it tastes best after being pickled for a day or two. I used small peppers that I had pickled over the summer, but you can choose any type of pickled pepper. Many recipes call for heating the vinegar along with the water, sugar and salt. But, as Deb at Smitten Kitchen says, "steamy vinegar is no friend to lungs." To avoid this, I just skipped heating the vinegar altogether and didn't notice any difference in flavor.

Giardiniera

Makes approximately 6 cups

Active preparation time: About 1 hour. Make approximately 2 days before eating.

Ingredients:
1 large head cauliflower, broken into small florets
1 bunch carrots, cut into matchsticks
1 cup pickled peppers, rinsed
1.25 cups white vinegar
.25 cups sugar
2 tablespoons kosher salt
.5 teaspoons yellow mustard seeds
2 teaspoons red pepper flakes

Preparation:
Bring 1.5 cups water to a low boil and add sugar and salt. Stir until sugar and salt are dissolved (about a minute or two). Remove from heat and add in vinegar, mustard seeds and red pepper flakes. Set aside and allow the pickling liquid to cool.

Blanch cauliflower by bringing a large pot of water to a boil, adding the cauliflower and cooking for approximately 3-4 minutes, then removing from boiling water into an ice-water bath. Repeat for the carrots, cooking for approximately 2-3 minutes. After cauliflower and carrots have cooled completely, remove from ice water to a 2-quart container. Add pickled peppers and mix.

Pour pickling liquid over vegetables. Use an inverted plate to weight vegetables so they are submersed in liquid. Cover and refrigerate. After a day, taste and adjust seasonings as necessary (at this point, I originally added more pepper flakes). Keep refrigerated until ready to serve.

Elsewhere on the web:
Giardiniera by Smitten Kitchen
Vegetables Giardiniera on Epicurious

Related links on BAB:
Pig on a Spit

Let me tell you, it's no picnic being two months pregnant when you edit, write, or read about food for a living.

"Hm, shall I write about what I had for dinner? Because I'm sure the readers will be SO HAPPY to read about the sparkling water and handful of almonds I forced down just to keep from booting this evening."

And forget about trying to research or cook new recipes when just walking in the vicinity of the kitchen rams so many nauseating smells up your nose that you grapple desperately at the box of water crackers you now perpetually carry in your pocket. (Of course, that's only when walking the six feet to the kitchen from the bedroom doesn't make you collapse, panting on a chair after walking three feet.)

When my husband offered to buy me a pair of swimmer's nose plugs to ease my discomfort, my only response was to glare balefully at him and asked if he really needed to eat an apple so loudly at that exact moment.

I also developed a specialized and completely uncontrollable gagging noise. Something would set me off, and if I didn't manage to clamp my mouth shut in time to slightly muffle it, an otherworldly "BLEAURRRGAHHHP!" would issue from my stomach, esophagus, and mouth.

After getting over his initial surprise and concern at their severity and volume, my doting husband started to find my gags fairly hilarious. Especially when one occurred when I was talking and I continued on as if nothing had happened.

I didn't think my friends would find my gags as amusing, so that, combined with the fact that we weren't "telling" yet, had the effect of bringing my social life to a complete standstill. Frankly, I couldn't be trusted to sit in a restaurant or bar and not emit revolting noises while being already completely revolted myself, so that was that.

For the same reason, I sadly pulled out of attending the A16 book signing in Corte Madera because, well, it was a cookbook signing along with what I'm sure was a wonderful food and wine pairing. I didn't need to disturb the peace with my gags over there, either.

To some degree, my work also came to a standstill while I languished on the bed and tried to forget there was ever such a thing as food. Unfortunately, I was deep in a Mixed Vegetables deadline and attempting to skim over references to sushi, soba, and sake, while building a Japanese food glossary was an exercise in some serious mind control. Although, mostly, I just tended to mutter, "LALALALALA! Kibinago LALALALALA! Nai doufu LALAL--BLEAURRRGAHHHP!"

Mind you, I still met all my deadlines, I just didn't work with excitement, joy, or an appetite.

Meanwhile, for all my whining about my career hardships, how the hell pregnant professional chefs or cooks manage to keep doing their jobs during these trying weeks is beyond me. I mean, forced to be around actual food all the time? BLEAURRRGAHHHP! Personally, I think food professionals should either get hazard pay or some sort of extra maternity leave in the first trimester.

Luckily, I'm now well into my second trimester and have left the Chronicles of Nausea behind, so I'm back in the food saddle again and raring to write about non-alcoholic wine, beer, and mocktails. Stay tuned.

I recently discovered the merits of the hot toddy. I started drinking them over the December holidays after I woke up one morning with a head cold and sore throat. Although I was skeptical that this centuries old hot drink would help me feel better than a regular cup of tea, I was happy to sip something a little different. I became a convert to its medicinal advantages, however, when after a few sips the rough soreness in my throat dissipated while warmth radiated throughout my body. I'm not kidding here. That hot toddy really did make me feel remarkably better.

The hot toddy was supposedly created when tea came to Scotland, and, as you might expect, the Scots felt the need to add a little of their mother's milk -- that is whisky -- to the brew. Since then, hot toddies have become synonymous with the idea of body-warming goodness on cold days. In addition to being hailed as a cold and flu remedy, hot toddies are said to also cure insomnia, which make sense to me.

Some people make hot toddies with tea, a sweetener, and lemon, along with whisky, brandy, bourbon, or rum. I like using either black tea or chamomile as I think the flavors nicely accent the drink, but you can really use any type of tea you like, or just leave it out all together. I've also made an alcohol free hot toddy for my daughters, which is an option if you're making the drink for children or prefer yours without alcohol.

And, speaking of the alcohol, I've been using brandy simply because the Scotch whisky I have on hand is expensive and so I want to enjoy it on its own. I also use brandy because it has a natural sweetness that lends itself nicely to honey and lemon in the drink. Whisky, however, is the historical choice, so if you have some and aren’t as stingy as I am, you should give it a try. Rum and bourbon are also an option, although I haven’t tried them.

So whether you're sick, can't fall asleep, or just chilly and in need of a warm drink that will exude heat throughout your body, a hot toddy may just do the trick.

Hot Toddy

Makes one cup

Ingredients:
1 cup hot tea
1 shot brandy, whisky, bourbon or rum
1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 Tbsp honey

Preparation:
1. Make a cup of tea the way you like it (that is, strong or weak and with whatever type of tea leaves you like).
2. Stir in the alcohol, lemon juice and honey.
3. Enjoy

Related BAB Posts:
Drunkard, Heal Thyself
Starve a Fever, Feed a Cold

This Sunday marks the 250th anniversary of the birth of Scottish poet Robert Burns, a night beloved in the hearts of the Scots, but relatively unknown to most Americans. For those of you uninitiated in Burns Night, it is a celebration in honor of good ol' Rabbie Burns, and, in true Scottish style, it is bathed in whisky and delicious haggis, neeps, and tatties.

My Scottish husband and I have made it a quest to educate and initiate our friends into the hallowed Burns Night traditions. Last year, we hosted our first Burns Night, and to our great surprise nearly everyone we invited not only showed up, but embraced the event with open arms, trying on their best Scottish brogue and gobbling up the haggis we’d captured out in the wilds of Dixon, CA.

It goes like this, at least at our house: We steam some haggis--which is essentially a big stuffed sausage made from sheep offal, spices, and oats; way more delicious than it might sound--and we make big pots of mashed potatoes (the “tatties”) and smashed rutabagas (the “neeps”). Just before the haggis is brought out and skewered with a large knife, we read Rabbie Burns Address to a Haggis. All the while, the whisky is flowing.

Perhaps it doesn’t sound as fun as it actually ends up being, but then again, you might not have a friend like Traci, who takes a few whisky shots and takes over the room with her rolling Rrrrrrrrs and guttural brogue.

This year, being quite a monumental anniversary, we decided to (or actually, our friends demanded that we) host our 2nd Annual Burns Night. Once again, we drove out to Dixon for some house-made haggis. Although I have to say, after the nearly 5-hour journey, I’m apt to make it myself next year. And while the official night is Sunday January 25th, this year we’ll be celebrating ol’ Rabbie Burns 250th anniversary on Saturday, January 24th. So pull out a poem and read it in your best brogue, have a nip of whisky, and take a bite of sausage (or better yet, haggis!), and give a wee toast to a fabulous poet, who will be celebrated the world over, and at our little home away from Scotland house in San Francisco.

If you are itching to participate in Burns Night 2009, the main event here in SF happens at:
Edinburgh Castle
Saturday January 24 at 8pm, $10 at the door
950 Geary Street, San Francisco, CA
415.885.4074

For those of you out in the Valley, check out:
Canal Street Grille Robert Burns Night
Saturday, January 24th at 6:30pm
1225 Canal Blvd, Ripon, CA, 95366
209.599.4646

Listen to Daphne Miller and "The Jungle Effect" on KQED's Forum.
Aired on KQED 88.5FM Mon, Jan 22, 2009 --10:00 AM

Daphne Miller and "The Jungle Effect"
San Francisco-based foodie and family practitioner Dr. Daphne Miller has traveled the world in search of healthy indigenous diets. In her latest book, "The Jungle Effect," Miller imparts what she says are the health-bolstering secrets of authentic cuisines through travel anecdotes and recipes.

Host: Michael Krasny

Guests:
Dr. Daphne Miller, family practitioner and author of "The Jungle Effect: A Doctor Discovers the Healthiest Diets from Around the World -- Why They Work and How to Bring Them Home"

I spent three days exploring and tasting at the Winter Fancy Food Show, and I barely scratched the surface. How do I know? Because every time I bumped into a colleague and asked them what THEY liked, I heard about something I never even saw, let alone tasted. To put it bluntly, the show is overwhelming. Sadly, much of what is on offer is nothing special at all, but the lure of finding the good stuff keeps me going back for more no matter how tired, bleary eyed, and palate fatigued I get.

In past years I've written about trends, but this year I didn't really get a sense of trends. Sure, there were plenty of new products using super antioxidant ingredients and lots of chocolate, especially single estate and exotically flavored varieties. I also saw noticeably fewer salts, but more teas than in years past. But none of that seems earth-shattering news. What struck me this year were what I'm calling "the good ideas." Without further ado, here are some of my top picks for items I hope indicate potential trends in the future.

PB Loco's Peanut Butter with Asian Curry Spice. I love peanut butter but get awfully tired of all the sweet flavors. I can see a lot more possibilities with a delicious savory jar like this one. I hope they introduce more because right now plain and sweet flavors dominate the shelf.

Apparently bakers and pastry chefs have known about LorAnn for years. LorAnn makes bakery emulsions which are flavorings that are not alcohol based so they don't "bake out." Available in flavors like almond, rum, buttery vanilla and more, they are bright and true, and very reasonably priced at about $5 for 4 ounces.

I'm excited to see that chocolate is being grown in Hawaii. Original Hawaiian Chocolate products are not quite as good as the best chocolate from Venezuela, but it has its own character and it is better than what is typically used for that local confection, chocolate covered macadamia nuts. I'm sure it will only improve over time.

If you've been to Barcelona, or seen Anthony Bourdain's Spain episode of Without Reservations than you just might know something about the quality tinned seafood from Spain that is more highly prized and more expensive than even fresh seafood. Hats off, or perhaps sombreros off, to Conservas Gallega for importing these conservas into the US.

The Spicy Gourmet spice blending sets. The best spices are whole, freshly toasted and ground. How do you get people to toast and grind? Sell them top quality spices paired with a grinder. I wish this company much success in their worthy endeavor.

Yuzu, yuzu kosho, sudachi, and kabosu. If you don't know much about these Japanese ingredients, with any luck, you will soon. WA Imports is bringing beautifully packaged pure Japanese citrus based juices, jams and pastes to market under the brand name Yakami Orchard. These are not the adulterated products you find on the market today and they are great for desserts, sauces, marinades.

Head over to Cooking with Amy to check out some of my favorite international products from the show.