Baltimore food scene has a little bit of everything this week, from intellectual pursuits to dinners benefiting great causes to parties that are just plain fun. Here’s a look at what the city has to offer for the next seven days:
Tag: wine tasting
Not many conferences have agendas that basically read like this: “Taste a variety of wines. Discuss the variety of wines. Eat something delicious (accompanied by wine). Meet the people who grew the grapes. Taste some more wine. Learn how the wine was made (and done so practically in your own backyard). Enjoy a gourmet lunch featuring some of Baltimore’s finest fare (and have some local wine that compliments it just so). Engage in discussions about how we should really all be drinking more local wine. And finally, join in the Twitter Taste-Off—sampling over two dozen wines from Maryland’s wineries.” Presumably, after this, one goes home and takes a nap. But it’s really not a particularly tough sell, is it?
Easter is one of my favorite events of spring, probably because growing up in Hawaii there were few other markers of the change of the season.s In Hawaii, there are essentially two seasons: one that’s sunny and so hot (88 degrees! What?!), and one that’s rainy and so cold (sometimes down to the 60s at night. Break out the sweaters). We spent every Easter camping at the beach when I was a kid, on the east side of the island where we lived so that we could watch the sunrise on Sunday morning. We’d set up in tents, roast marshmallows and other grillable items, listen to the ocean, and watch the stars come out.
Or that’s how I tell the story. In reality, we probably spent two Easters at the beach in the fourteen years we spent in Hawaii, and “camping” was two tents pitched roughly ten feet from our parked fifteen-passenger van, and usually the sand was mixed with pokey pinecone-like spawn of ironwood trees and previous campers’ charcoal remnants from their marshmallows and grillable items, making the powdery, death-gray sand stick to our legs and arms and s’mores-crusted faces, meaning a dirty, sticky hoard of children (all seven of us) piling back into the fifteen-passenger van to be hosed off at a later destination, usually in the front yard of our house.
Now, a little older living on this coast, spring brings more than just ashen limbs and the occasional beach campout. The rotation of all four seasons is one of my favorite things about living here, and though Maryland seems to mix up the weather patterns a little bit, spring more or less means something new every day (like snow, perhaps?), not the least of which is a switch in the wine brain.
I didn’t much believe in that idea, that weather dictates what kind of wine you actually enjoy, but that first year in the wine shop changed my mind. It was Daylight Savings Time, yet another seasonal phenomena I still don’t understand courtesy of growing up in the middle of the ocean, and all of the sudden the sun was still coming through the windows at 7:30 at night. And it was warmer. And there were things growing. And suddenly, you’re looking at the tasting bar and you’re thinking, “my GOD, why is there no white wine?!” It wasn’t that my tastes had changed; it was just a response to everything else changing. We drink in seasons, too.