Month: June 2012
This week, I’m in Chicago. The last time I was in Chicago, I visited Vosges Haut-Chocolate. Here’s a little of what I saw during my visit:
Toffee is made in small batches, then cut by hand, very carefully, on a heated table to keep it malleable.
Nearby are racks piled high with freshly-cut toffee, hardened but still warm. When I pop a piece in my mouth, my tongue is coated in sweet, intensely caramel, buttery candy that sticks in my teeth.
Dried rose petals, ready to be sprinkled atop truffles.
Katrina, Vosges’ founder, started the company with the concept “travel the world through chocolate.” A walk through the kitchens felt something like a voyage, too: we passed big bowls of bacon destined for chocolate bars or caramels, bins of hibiscus powder, bags of delicate French fleur de sel sea salt.
The main office space.
The saris draped from the ceiling are from Katrina’s wedding. The effect is elegant, dramatic, vibrant, luxurious. Those are all words I would use to describe their chocolates, too.
A shelf in Katrina’s office.
Katrina’s office features plenty of natural light, a view of the Chicago river, and shelves holding all manner of stuff. My tour guide Emily, the director of new product development, described Katrina as “a collector of things.” The upright white object in the center is a bunny. Its head is missing because it was being used as a model for Easter lollipops.
Month: June 2012
There was a flurry of activity in our Mail Order warehouse last week when we received this spring’s first batch of imported goods. This was a special shipment: it contained our first bottles of 2011 harvest olive oils.
For the last year, we’ve been selling and enjoying 2010 harvest olive oils. By now, about eighteen months since those oils were pressed, many of them have given up some of the sparkle, the vibrancy of their youth. They have settled into a middle aged respectability: they are quieter, milder, less assertive. They’re still very good oils, and will be for a good many months to come, but in settling into comfortable maturity they’ve abandoned some of the brasher ideals of their adolescence.
Not so with the new oils that just arrived. The 2011 harvest, picked and pressed between October to December of last year, are fresh, bright. After a few months spent settling down from their rambunctious just-pressed olio nuovo teenage years, a quick bottling, and then a long cruise across the Atlantic, these oils are ready to step out into the world, to find their place, to make a splash.
Like wines, estate olive oils vary from year to year; unlike wines, oils do not get better with age. These new oils are at their most flavorful now, and to me, tasting them for the first time is a little like biting into the first farmer’s market peach of the summer: you mostly know what to expect, but if you’re lucky, it’s even better than you remember.
A few of the highlights for me so far:
But don’t take my word for it. These oils – and dozens more – are available to taste at Zingerman’s Deli now.
Month: June 2012
June 2nd, 2012. 4:25 pm.
Camp Bacon has just ended.
My clothes, my hair, even my skin are inundated with the smoky, rich scent of campfire and cured meat. Later this evening, I will almost regret showering, as though by washing off the aroma (stink?) I am washing away part of the experience.
My belly is uncomfortably, but happily, full of pork belly. Camp Bacon has lived up to its name: there were bacon scones, bacon coffeecakes, bacon in scrambled eggs with oysters, bacon pimento cheese, bacon baked into waffles, bacon lettuce and tomato sandwiches. Then there was the hunk of bacon, as large as a small remote control, that I skewered with a long, pointy stick and roasted over an open fire, hot dog style. Plus, of course, the thirteen samples of different bacons that were served throughout the day, between meals.
In my mind, I relive the day in stories, flavors, moments. The twinkle in Allan Benton’s eye, and his sincere gratitude and enthusiasm as he recounts his path to curing country hams and bacons. The way the exceptional La Quercia Tamworth bacon all but melts into a smoky, salty, savory puddle on my tongue. The obvious pride in Ronny Drennan’s voice as he tells us about his Kentucky State Fair championship ham that was auctioned off for charity for $1.6 million. The ashy, liquid fat that drips from my skewered hunk of bacon and sizzles down the bowl of the black cauldron holding the campfire.
I am elated. I’m not sure I’ve ever spent a day in happier company. You can’t be sad while you’re surrounded by happy people, all eating and talking about artisan bacons together. You just can’t.
Camp Bacon has just ended, and like it says on the back of the t-shirt, “I never want to go home!”
Zingerman’s Camp Bacon is a long weekend of bacon-related celebration. The main event is an informal “conference” that unites bacon makers, bacon experts, and bacon lovers for a day of learning, storytelling, and of course eating, all focused on some of the best artisan bacons available today.