2010: A Good Year?

It’s the third Thursday in November, which means the release of this year’s Beaujolais Nouveau vintage. To pay tribute to this world wide celebration of the vine, I’ve pulled out a few of my favorite examples of wine-related architecture.

Herzog and de Meuron’s Dominus winery is probably the best known winery in architectural circles for its context-driven design. The building envelope garnered much of the fame, constructed as a gabion system – wire cages filled with large rocks – that screens the light without blocking the free flow of temperate Napa Valley air.

Dominus Winery by Herzog and de Meuron, Napa Valley, 1998. 

hen there’s the barrel cellar, my favorite part of the winery, where the mass and density of the surrounding earth stabilizes air temperature and humidity while minimizing vibrations – ideal conditions for wine storage. I’ll limit myself to three examples here: the 18th century cellars of Loimer winery in Austria, the sweeping arcs of the concrete cellars at Bodegas Otazu in Spain, and Stephen Holl’s restoration of the labyrinthine wine cellars dating back to 1100 AD for the Loisum Visitors’ Centre in Austria. I know this last one is mostly for looks, but what can I say? I have a thing for old world tunnels.

Loimer's 18th century cellars, restored by Andreas Burghardt Architect, Austria, 2002.

Bodegas Otazu's barrel cellars by Jaime Gaztelu Quijano Architect, Spain, 1997.

Loisium Visitors' Centre by Steven Holl Architects, Austria, 2003.

 On to the drinking part of this tour! Tasting rooms have become architectural jewels in and of themselves, but I appreciate the subdued simplicity of Peregrine’s tasting bar in New Zealand by Architectural Workshop. 

Peregrine Tasting Bar by Architecture Workshop, New Zealand, 2003.

Let’s end on a ridiculous, obviously pre-Recession example: the Radisson BLU Hotel’s Wine Tower in the London Stansted Airport. Within a 13-meter high, temperature controlled cube where bottles are illuminated by NASA-engineered lighting systems, trained acrobat servers called “wine angels” move wine safely from tower to table via a computerized pulley system. Ticket change to Vegas, anyone?

Wine Tower by Elimun8 & Speirs and Major Associates, London, 2004.

On Top of Spaghetti...

Last night I satisfied my boyfriend’s cravings for – you got it – meatballs. Don’t ask me why this is funny to me (and it’s not just their name), but I find meatballs to be one of those hangovers from mid-century housewifery, complete with vinyl tablecloth and Technicolor food photography. I nearly donned an apron for it but have yet to find one cute enough but not so precious as to prevent me from wearing it while working with tomato sauce.

The Ravenous Boy, 1954. Image Source: Plan 59 Prints

Don’t get me wrong – I dig a nice, polished modern kitchen in the fifties mode. But meatballs? After the mental image of that kitchen, the next words that came to mind were bad, duo-chrome man food. Being the amazing girlfriend I am, however, I cracked open Cook’s Illustrated Best Recipes and turned to that entry you never would have thought you’d turn to in a Cook’s Illustrated: Spaghetti and Meatballs.

What I learned from making meatballs:

1. Meatballs are easy to make. Really! Perhaps that’s why they became a fifties staple. They’re something the ole wife-y can pull off with more or less ease and still satisfy her family. And, yes, my boyfriend was very, very happy. I was actually nearly offended by how happy he was considering the many exotic recipes from Food & Wine I’ve made for him over the years that registered modest applause by compare.

2. Meatballs are NOT heavy, dense, fried balls o’ meat. No, these meatballs prepared per CI’s directions, were light, almost fluffy (if you can call meat fluffy). As the cookbook called it, if I’d rolled the balls too tightly or over-compressed them before frying, they may have turned out according to my preconceived notions. It turns out that a light hand is just the trick.

3. Now this wasn’t a surprise really but still a bit of a revelation. Eating meatballs over spaghetti with the sauce prepared in the same sauté pan as the meatballs – how to say this – well, it did induce an uncanny sensation of déjà vu. I don’t know if it was the texture or the color or the taste (probably a combination of all three), but the dish channeled the spirit of June Cleaver into our living room. Maybe this is the true definition of comfort food.

So there you have it. I apologize for prejudging this long-loved dish and encourage you to try it out on your nearest manly appetite.

A Late Arrival.

To all those who know me well, I know what you're thinking. For years I've commented on the self-aggrandizement and narcissism of blogging, my upper lip curling when thinking of the mundane drivel that so many bloggers take for content, a smug smile when wondering "really, who's listening?" Yet, here I am, equipped with my formal apology to (most) of the blogosphere. I'm here because like so many others, I wanted an outlet that (1) got me writing on a regular basis; (2) increased the web presence of my new small business venture; and (3) allowed me to participate in the vibrant virtual community of designers, writers, architects, and scores of other creative professionals out there (many of whom have probably been blogging all this while, dismissing my snears as ignorance - and justly so).

So what is this blog about then? The good stuff. Ok, some days I may write about writing. Other days, in fact most days, I prefer to talk about the latest article on architecture I read or the new bottle of wine I discovered. I love the arts and design, and these days those words cover a lot of territory: architecture and cool products, sure, visual culture and dance, of course, but, also, food & wine, fashion, and travel. Basically, this spot is for me to talk about what's interesting to me today. Is that narcissistic? Perhaps a little, but maybe it's interesting to others as well. And if it is, let me know? I'm all for connecting to a creative community that sees the traditional boundaries between disciplines as suggestions rather than requirements.

Background:
This blog represents part of the new act of putting myself out there in ways I never would have previous to my experience of the past year, namely unemployment which took me to various levels of uncertainty and despair before converting to resolute determination.

One day, I just woke up and realized the plan I've nurtured for myself was not working. In fact, the plan was dead in the water. No life plan is foolproof. None can stand up to Great Recessions or government bailouts or other catastrophic circumstances without giving way. Some plans bend, some break. I decided mine was broken for the fact that it was never flexible enough in the first place.

So what to do? Cliché as it sounds, I decided that if I was going to live life, I better start now. "Waiting for the right time" became the most ridiculous phrase to me because there's never a "right time." There's now and there's later. And if this little niche business was (surprisingly) bringing in work, then stop half-a**ing it and take the world by storm.

Thus my new year's resolution: To be a "better boss of me." I'm investing all my spare energy into really seeing if this self-employed bit can work for me in the long term. So now the stack of books on my coffee table are all new non-fiction, not cultural history or theory as usual but, rather, books on business strategy, viral networking, and start-ups. I've become one of those people... but with spunk.