It's still high summer at the Farmer's Market.
That means: colorful peaches, plums and nectarines all overly ripe); tomatoes and green beans; and even some new potatoes. Dahlias still abound ing and abiding ("buy three for my tequila," says the flower man every week); and fragrant herbs --thyme, rosemary, basil, and oregano (ours we tried growing remain inedible).
And berries galore: a trio blueberries, blackberries and raspberries.
For fish, is swordfish and wild Colorado salmon.
I still haven't managed to eat eel yet this summer. Did you know we switch from white miso in winter to red in summer (blending the two in autumn and spring)? Red is salty, perfect for the heat of summer, people say. People say it, and I agree.
And speaking of fermentation....
Lawrence Osbourne, in his book, The Wet and the Dry, writes movingly about Dionysus; reminding us that the poet Pindar compared the god of the vine to that of "the pure light of high summer."
That is the kind of wine (wine light) I want to drink right now-- a wine that embodies the pure light and sunshine of the season.
So far, that means the volcanic babies of Sicily (Long live Arianna Occhipinti!) and the glorious amphora whites from Georgia.
We loved this wine from Baia's Wine (Baia, like Arianna is a young and very talented and amazing wine maker!) "liquid honeysuckle and thyme--" without the overwhelming sulphur of the Sicilian COS amphora either. Lingering sunlight and perfume... sunny and cheerful wine.
Venissa, too, if we can afford another bottle someday...
All those lesser known grapes that are not on the road usually traveled, the legendary dorona grape, the Tsitska, Krakhuna, and Tsolikouri from Georgia; the zibbibo in Sicily and waiting in great anticipation to try the Hamdani, Jandali, and Dabouki white grapes from the Holy Land. Always love Cassis.
For sunshine reds, so far, the only light summer red we have had is the 100% sangiovese from il Borro and the COS "pithos" feremented in an amphora from nero d'avola and frappato grapes. (nero d'avola is one of my favorite red grapes).
Like Galileo reportedly said, wine is a compound of moisture [humor] and light (il vino è un composto di umore e di luce). Mood, moisture and light...?
So, there is light, but the other quality I have been trying to evoke is more noticeable fermentation.
I guess most people around here have a favorite Feynman quote. Mine is from his famous discourse on wine-- an aside during one of his lectures at Caltech, where he said that "Life is fermentation."
For years, I thought that "life is translation." That was my motto--typical translator, but I did feel it fit things perfectly.
Not anymore though. Now, life is fermentation. For sure!
Osbourne goes on to explain that the ancient Egyptians, like the Cretans, designated the rising of the star Sirius in high summer (July) with fermentation. And this to them suggested the life force (fermentation and intoxication, life from decay...)
And in the Amber Revolution, Simon Woolf off-handedly mentions that the huge amphora (qvevri) were sometimes used at the end of life, in death, cut to allow for a body in burial.... like in Borneo).
Lawrence Osbourne's The Wet and the Dry: A Drinker's Journey
Simon Woolf's Amber Revolution
Alice Feiring's
For the Love of Wine: My Odyssey Through the World's Most Ancient Wine Culture
Kevin Begos' wonderful Tasting the Past: The Science of Flavor and the Search for the Origins of Wine
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