Since I just spent a year writing a book about cider, the first credential I seek out is to become a Certified Cider Professional (or CCP), a brand-new professional title created by the United States Association of Cider Makers. I attended an introductory seminar on the CCP Level 1 exam at CiderCon in Baltimore in the winter of 2018. The following summer, one afternoon on a whim — without any further study — I decide to log in to the cider association website, pay $75 and take the exam. There are 60 questions on apple history, apple classifications and genetics, cidermaking techniques, styles of cider, detecting flaws, and food pairings with cider. I submit my answers, then find out instantaneously that I’ve gotten 89 percent correct — a passing grade. It has taken me 37 minutes 47 seconds to complete the exam, which includes the interruption of a 15-minute work call. I am now proudly a Level 1 Certified Cider Professional — a cider sommelier. I receive a felt CCP patch in the mail — one that I might have proudly ironed onto my acid-washed jean jacket back in the ’80s. Within months, I am teaching cider classes to candidates who also hope to pass the CCP Level 1 test.
This highly-rated restaurant off Sand lake Road bases its menu around fresh, seasonal produce (hence the name), and presents a nice mix of indoor and alfresco seating, with handsome views outback stretching across the adjacent lake. Seasons 52 also have an oak-fire grill and brick oven onsite, helping to bring out the natural flavors, as well as keep things healthy. Recommended dishes to try are the wood-grilled pork tenderloin, oak-grilled rack of lamb, Asian-glazed Chilean Sea Bass and duck wing ‘lollipops’. There’s also a sturdy lineup of local craft ales and international wines.
When you’re on vacation, or even just hosting someone who is, you always end up eating meals between meals, having a few extra drinks, and accepting that it’s okay to have dessert twice in one day. But after a few days of that, you’re going to need a reset. When that happens, go to Dandelion Communitea Café. The entire menu at this restaurant and tea house is vegan, gluten free, and healthier than anything you’ve eaten in the past week. Get a salad or tempeh bowl, and while eating here won’t counteract the donuts and pie you ate yesterday, you should feel a little better afterward.
If you aren't incorporating your Instant Pot into your morning routine (or, you know, a Saturday morning at least!), you simply aren't reaching its full potential. The Internet's favorite multi-cooker grants all the benefits of a top-notch homemade breakfast in a fraction of the time, all while making a much smaller mess. At least set aside 10 minutes for your own personal batch of steel-cut oats—once you've had a bowl, you'll never turn back to the microwavable stuff again.
Whether you're looking for something perfect but not too personal to gift your favorite coworkers, an option to suit your resident gourmet's picky palate, or just want to give the gift of not having to cook dinner (or breakfast, or lunch) this year, we've tracked down all of the most delicious edible presents, baskets, and subscriptions to make every gifting occasion more delicious.
Wine education and the role of the sommelier are so culturally mainstream that it’s perhaps inevitable that other gourmet products would seek a similar patina of sophistication. “A sommelier means someone who holds the knowledge, and I’m definitely the one who holds the knowledge of mustard,” says Harry Lalousis, a mustard sommelier who works for Maille, a French producer of Dijon mustard. “I don’t say that I’m a mustard sommelier for fun. I don’t think there’s anyone who can ask me a question about mustard that I cannot answer.”
To illustrate how important the olfactory sense is, Marchese earlier asked me to hold my nose and gave me something granular to put on my tongue. At first, it just felt grainy and sweet. Yet once I unplugged my nose, I experienced a rush of cinnamon flavor. As further practice, we sniffed little vials of typical honey aromas, similar to a kit other sensory experts use. I was proud of myself for identifying scents of mint, peach and lily. But others stumped me. Nutmeg? Wrong, hazelnut. Tea? No, hay. Truffle? Sorry, mushroom.