As it turns out, sourdough and San Francisco sourdough are entirely different things. Sourdough is simply the bread that has been made for years, before modern active dry yeast was produced. In the old days, if you wanted yeast, you would have to keep it alive yourself. It was known as “starter“. When you made bread, you would put some starter in your flour and water mixture, and your dough would rise. When making San Francisco sourdough, it’s basically the opposite: you make a bunch of starter and then put some flour into it to reach a bread dough consistency.

So I sent an envelope to an organization known as Carl’s Friends, who out of the kindness of their hearts will mail you some dried sourdough starter if you send them a pre-stamped envelope. Upon receiving an envelope full of white powder (which was unnerving having just read Demon in the Freezer a few weeks ago), I reactivated the yeast and bacteria mixture using flour and a little potato water. Within a few days I had a frothing, gummy mixture of living starter. It had the smell of beer and wet latex paint.

I made San Francisco sourdough bread last weekend from a recipe I found on the Internet. It turned out with an amazing aroma. I do not have any photos because it was gone too quickly. I’ll try making some more this weekend. Hopefully it will stick around a little longer.

For the evening, our hobo bag theme was lackluster blockbusters, or blockblunders, or just plain crappy box office hits: Titanic, Wild Wild West, Speed 2, Men in Black, Armageddon, The Phantom Menace, Waterworld, and Pearl Harbor.

We discovered that in general, Cabernet was a lighter, fruitier red wine, and ranged from extremely dry to nearly dessert wine sweet. In several wines, the alcohol taste came through rather obnoxiously.

Last place went to a $14 bottle of Avalon from Sonoma, California, 2004. In a near-tie for last place was a $9 bottle of Bolla from Italy, 2006. A few weeks ago, Bolla won first place for Chianti.

A $13 1-liter box of French Rabbit from France got second place. It was very sweet and light, but easy to drink and approachable. It had flavors of honey and strawberry.

When we pulled the first place winner out of the brown paper bag, the room was full of gasps and groans as we learned that it was Yellow Tail, Australia, 2007, $6.50. Much to our dismay, its rich christmas-like flavors of vanilla, licorice and cloves earned it the highest score we have given to any of the twenty-seven bottles we have tasted so far.

For dinner I made Emeril’s recipe for ratatouille as well as sage roasted potatoes. David made a dessert with poached meringue floated on a martini glass of custard and garnished with a wafer of caramel.

If we learned anything that night, it’s that consuming food at unnatural speeds and set to music is hysterical.

All the Shiraz(es?), even the lowest rated, still scored higher than any other class of wine we had before: Chianti, Zinfandel, and Merlot. The biggest surprise was that the box wine (which was classily strapped to the rack on the back of my bike for the trip home) scored the highest! Coming in at an extremely close second was the $45 bottle from Australia.

From my research, it appears that shiraz pairs well with spicy foods such as Mexican, Cajun, and barbecue. So some of our visitors prepared beans and enchiladas. For dessert, David made flan that turned out amazing!

Next week: Cabernet

For dinner we had pizza with homemade crust, fresh buffalo mozzarella cheese, and ridiculous amounts of fresh basil. For dessert David made zabaglione with fresh fruit.

So I’m a little late with posting our review of red Zinfandel. About two weeks late.

Zinfandel is grown world-wide, but the vast majority of Zinfandel available in the US is from California. As a matter of fact, we were unable to find anything outside of California to taste.  Also difficult to find was any bottle over $20. It pairs well with barbecue and spicy food, so I made Emeril’s vegetarian chili.

We had five bottles, and not one scored well. The more we drank, the more we realized that Zinfandel did not sit well with us. They reminded us of the Argentinean wine from the previous week. The tastes were all tar, petroleum, and dirty socks.

At least the chili was a hit.

Last night was merlot, a grape native to France, but grown virtually worldwide. We served it with fresh red sauce on linguini, with an assortment of French-seasoned olives and robusto cheese, stella gorgonzola, and brie. For dessert David made chocolate mousse with whipped cream, shaved dark chocolate, and orange zest.

For kicks we started with a Sutter Home white merlot, $6. We did not rate it according to our rating system because it was entirely different. While not offensive in taste, the flavor was about as complex as Kool-Aid and finished quickly in a light Capri Sun taste. This drink was more of a punch or a sangría than a wine, and was better fit for a hot summer day with a few ice cubes and a slice of orange. I’m sure the glass bottle was a significant portion of the cost, and distributing it in a juice box with a straw to pierce the foil hole on top would certainly bring the cost down significantly.

Our least favorite was Trumpeter from Argentina, for $10, which was complex in a rotting chocolate sort of way. Coming in at nearly the same score was a $22 bottle of Château Marcadis from France which tasted as though it was aged in green wood barrels. Third place went to an $11 bottle from France called Red Bicyclette. While unremarkable, it would work well with a simple meal such as spaghetti. The light petroleum finish wasn’t enough for any of us to not consider this wine again considering its price class. In second place was Kendall-Jackson from California for $24. And first place goes to a 1997 Philippe Lorraine from California, $35. It was by far the most complex and interesting wine. Not that the taste was complex at any given point, but the taste always seemed to vary from sip to sip, with new flavors coming out throughout the glass.

Next week: Zinfandel.

Months ago, the Subway got robbed. At 11 on a Sunday morning.  There are three churches directly across the street, so I’m sure there were plenty of people around. Then, a few weeks later, the Subway was robbed again.  A Sunday morning again if I remember correctly.Recently the Subway installed what I can only assume is bullet-proof glass. However, the glass only protects the area behind the food. It stops several feet from the cash register. If the bullet proof glass is meant to protect the employees, it is probably actually doing the opposite. If an armed robber comes in, and the employees run behind the glassed-in area to hide, it is likely going to piss off the robber. If he is prone to violence, a single pane of bullet-proof glass is not going to stop him.  Using the simple laws of physics, all he has to do is reach his gun around the side of the glass near the register.

Besides the stupid idea that it might stop a robbery, the glass also makes it nearly impossible for the employees to understand the customers’ orders. Customers have to yell, and the more customers there are, the more yelling there is.  It doesn’t help that most of the employees seem to have a difficult time with English to begin with.

“What can I get for you?”

“Just a minute, I’m thinking.”

“Did you say chicken teriyaki?”

“No, I said just a minute, I’m thinking“

“Chicken teriyaki?”

“No, I haven’t made up my mind yet. I’m still trying to decide what I want.” A moment later, “OK, I’ll have a footlong chicken teriyaki on honey oat.”

“No, we have no more honey oat.”

“Ummm… OK, I’ll have it on whole wheat.

“She starts to put American cheese on, without asking.

“No, no American cheese. I want Provolone.”

“No cheese?”

“Yes, cheese. Provolone cheese. Take off the American cheese.”

“Do you want it toasted?”

“No.”

“Toasted?”

“Not toasted.”

“Toasted?”

“No, I do not want my sandwich toasted.”

“Okay, what do you want on it?”

“Lettuce.”

She puts lettuce on it.

“Tomato.” I point to the sliced tomatoes. She reaches for the second bin of lettuce.

“Lettuce?”

“Tomato. Olives. Green peppers.”

“Pepperoni?”

“No, I said Green peppers. Red pepper relish.”

“Red pepper relish? I don’t know what that is.”

I point to the red pepper relish. “Oh, you mean red pepper sauce!”

Uuuuaaaaggghh!!!