Dinner with Monique

You know how there are people you've been friends with forever, and you don't see each other enough, and that's dumb and unfortunate, but it's somehow OK, because when you do see eachother it's all happy and good (or not always happy, because life isn't always happy, but, you know, good anyway)? Yes, well, Monique is just such a friend. And because Julie knows that both Monique and I like cheese, she will purchase a variety of kinds for us to try, and even melt some on toast so that she can try some herself, even though her non-melted cheese block remains firmly in place. The two mold-ripened soft cheeses were the stand outs, though there names have now been lost to time and memory.

First wine

Second wine





The chenin blanc was wnoderful: fruity and crisp and tart-sweet and went great with the cheeses and the salad you see in the background. The tempranillo rose (it wasn't labeled as such, but it was lighter bodied than any of the tempranillos I've had in the past) was light and tart, though this was moderated by the dinner course:




This was essentially a kind of crustless artichoke quiche, but it was not so nice. Julie and I talked some about how we could have fixed this dish, and sort of circled back to the shoulder-shrugging "a different recipe" answer. However, the magic power of even bland artichokes will sweeten up any wine, which in this case worked out quite nicely.