Monthly Archives: July 2011

The ghost of eggplant past

Are you ever haunted by a particular food?  And I don’t mean in an up-all-night-on-the-toilet way.  I mean: in a good way.  Like, you ate something so amazing that you just can’t seem to get it out of your head.

Me? I am usually haunted by things like crispy pork belly and Pad Thai.  But ever since our trip to Asheville a couple of weeks ago and that amazing dinner at Curate, I’ve totally been haunted by eggplant.

I don’t think I’ve ever been haunted by a vegetable before.

That honey eggplant at Cutate was that good, I guess.

I knew that I wouldn’t be able to re-create it, but of course I was going to try.  I started off by decking out my little aubergine out in peppy stripes.  Stripes are totally in this season!  Or so they tell me.  (They being the dressing room ladies at Target, where I have flirted with many a stripy frock this summer.)

In addition to making a cute presentation, this makes the skin easier to chew through, and allows the slices of eggplant to expand/contract as they cook, and thus hang together a little better.  Or so it seems to me, anyway.

Next: half-inch-thick slices and a whole lotta salt.

I let them hang out in their salt for half an hour – at the end of which time, that paper towel was drenched, leaving little eggplant sponges that would hopefully suck up the mixture of honey, balsamic vinegar, olive oil and fresh rosemary I’d whisked together.

After being dunked in the marinade, they only needed a few minutes on a hot grill.  (And a little more rosemary and salt, of course!)

Yum!  I enjoyed them with salad, fresh peach slices and a little prosciutto + bread for a light tapas-style dinner:

However, once my food coma wears off, I’m sure the eggplant ghost will haunt me again.  This was very good, but it was a shadow of its restaurant-crafted inspiration.  Something about how unbelievably piping-hot the eggplant at Curate was served…

Perhaps I need to invest in a blowtorch?

(Pretty sure that is not allowed per the terms of our apartment lease.)


Anyway.  I poured a glass of chilly SB to sip on while dinner grilled:

This 2010 Matua Sauvignon Blanc from Marlborough was just okay.  Lots of apple and grapefruit, but it was almost a little too sweet: none of the delicious green pepper I’ve started to expect from SB.  And there was something…gravelly about it?  Like, when it hasn’t rained in a while and a car pulls out of an unpaved driveway and makes a big cloud of dust?  That smell?  Is kind of how this wine tastes. That rock/mineral flavor isn’t a bad thing, actually, but it was just a little unexpected and didn’t really work with the other flavors.

Bottom line?  Eh, it wasn’t horrible but I wouldn’t buy it again.  (Purchased at Fresh Market, $12.)

Off to work my noodle-y arms (holy HEAT workout tricep action tonight) on the remote control for a couple of hours.  Good night!

The wineceros welcomes you

Just wanted to say hello to any new readers who are popping in after the Wine Bloggers’ Conference!  I promise: I’m just as entertaining and insightful on this here blog as I am at 3:30 AM in the corner of that hotel ballroom with an empty bottle of Viongier in hand.

Which is to say…uh, nevermind.

Anyway.  I’m Shelby and I blog about all sorts of crap around here.  Welcome!

As the blog title implies, I spout off about running quite a bit.  I’ve been a runner since I was thirteen and competed in cross-country and track in both high school and college and have finished several marathons.  Although I’m pretty much a mid-packer these days, running is a big part of my life.  Right now, I’m training halfheartedly for the Athens (Greece) Marathon in November, which I plan to run as a fun vacation race!

I’m also a huge fan of food, which goes well with being a runner, I guess.  I’m not a chef by any means, but I sometimes share my more successful kitchen creations.  And I try to keep most of the cooking on the healthier side, but I have a major soft spot for bacon and potato chips.

And obviously, I like to imbibe, so you’ll see wine and beer reviews here too. Very casual, though.  I really have no idea what I am doing when it comes to reviewing, but I know what I like and don’t like.  And the internet makes everyone an expert, right?

Also, I like to draw stupid pictures in MSPAINT.

I spend an embarrassing amount of time doing this, actually.

My two cats make frequent appearances on the blog.  They’re Emmy:

And Parker:

They are wholly useless members of this household.  I keep telling them to get jobs or something, as their fancy-ass catfood doesn’t buy itself.  But they just blink at me and go back to sleep.

So that’s pretty much what happens around here!  Feel free to jump in and comment.  There’s a pretty solid crew of runners/foodies/general snarkers hanging around the comments section and I’d love to have a few more winos in the mix.

Anyway.  If you’re not a wino, you’re probably sick about hearing about my weekend in Charlottesville, so I’ll shut up about it.  I considered blogging more extensively on the various wines tasted or topics discussed, but at the end of the day, I didn’t go to WBC to come back and dump a load of unqualified reviews on you.  I went to WBC to learn a little more about tasting wine, to meet new people, and of course to drink all weekend.  Check, check and check!

Clearly, I did not go to Charlottesville to run.  Here’s how the week shook out, workout-wise:

M – ~7 miles easy (hot, humid, 1:01, ~8:42 pace)
Tu – Core class + 5 miles easy (treadmill @ 1%, 43: 15, 8:39 pace)
W – [AM] HEAT workout (~3 miles total); [PM] easy run (treadmill @ 1%, 42:15, 8:34 pace)
Th – 4 miles easy (treadmill @ 1%, 31:20, 7:50 pace)
F – 3 miles fartlek (treadmill @ 1%-3%, 23:55, 7:58 pace)
Sa – OFF
Su – OFF

Total: 27 miles

It totally is.  And not very many miles.  It was hot last week.  Ugh.  But still…


You can stand under my Monticello

…ello, ello, ay, ay, ay…

Uh…yeah, I have no idea.  I only got five hours of sleep last night and have been tasting wine all day and hotel coffee is not strong enough, dammit.

But far be it from me to neglect my blog while at a blogging conference.   Soooo…here ya go.

Four things I have learned so far at #WBC11:

1) The Teej liked to booze.

Poking around in Jefferson’s cellar was definitely the coolest part of last night’s Monticello event!  Apparently the room was restored and opened to the public just last year, so it’s Kind Of a Big Deal.

Check out the dumbwaiter…and I don’t mean that guy who brought you cold chicken fingers last week at Applebee’s.

And instead of a refrigerator, they had a giant hole in the ground that they filled with snow/ice in the winter to chill their perishables through the year.

Thank you, modern refrigeration technology, for sparing me the trouble of going outside and diging in a pile of dirty old snow when I want a cold beer.

2) MO wine, mo problems

Fact: if you’re the last person at the party, it’s likely that someone will hand you a case of wine to take home.  WIN.

(It’s from Missouri.  But fortunately my wine rack doesn’t discriminate on the basis of geography!  Or quality, for the most part…)

3) Dogs can taste, too.

Something tells me it wasn’t the first time he’d bellied up to the bar.

4) After a long day of drinking wine, there’s nothing better than a cold beer.

I nearly cried last night when I spotted a cooler full of beer.  It was nice just to drink something delicious and not feel like I had to think about it.  This Long Trail Ale, a craft from Vermont, totally hit the spot.  Thanks, Todd, for sharing!

And somehow, I’ve ended up blogging about beer at a wine conference.

If you want to read about wine, follow me on Twitter, where I’ll be live-tweeting 140-character reviews during this afternoon’s speed-tasting session.  Which is just about as exhausting as it sounds, actually.

About that coffee….

Band Camp

This one time?  When I was 22?  I went wine tasting.

I was living in Los Angeles and decided on a lark to drive up to Santa Barbara with some friends.  Upon checking in to our motel, we gathered as many of those glossy tri-fold tourist brochures as we could carry.  One of them featured attractive-looking people riding in the back of a Jeep on a wine tasting tour.

“We should totally do that,” we said.

The brochure recommended visiting three to four tasting rooms over the course of a day.  We decided to go for eight.

The first three stops were enjoyable.  What you’d expect from a wine tasting trip in California: sitting in the sun, sipping wine and noshing on crackers and cheese. But then things got interesting.

At winery number four, I bought a random ugly poster, convinced that it was “art.”

At winery number five, I spilled wine all over the poster and ruined it.  (At the time I was certain that I’d improved on the artistic value of the piece by splattering Merlot all over it.)

At winery number six, I convinced my friend Dave to buy a case of some wine that I had determined to be “absolutely amazing and a great value.”

Seven and eight remain a mystery, but I am pretty sure there was a live tortoise involved.

On the ride home, I made the driver stop so I could vomit all over the shoulder of the road.

In the hotel parking lot, I dropped the case of wine that I’d convinced my friend to purchase, bathing the concrete in hundreds of dollars of Syrah.

In short?  It was a complete and total disaster.

But that was almost ten years ago and I am much older and wiser now. (?)

At this Wine Bloggers Conference, I will not make a complete and total disaster of myself.  I will not.  I will not.  I will not.

(Probably not.)

In any event, it looks like Charlottesville is ready.

On being part camel

I had a fun post planned for tonight, but it will have to wait until tomorrow because I am an idiot.  An idiot who apparently has yet to master the most important activity of humankind – nay, of the entire animal kingdom: drinking water.

Here was today:

Around 7:30, I woke up and didn’t drink any water.  (Maybe some splashed in to my mouth while showering but it was unintentional.)

Around 9, I had a meeting and didn’t drink any water.  (I did drink a ginormous cup of iced coffee, though.)

Around 10, I went to work and didn’t drink any water.  (In spite of the fact that I’d tossed an empty bottle into my bag specifically for the purpose of filling it with water and drinking it.)

Around 3:30, I left work and went to do a couple of errands and didn’t drink any water.  (At one point it occurred to me that I had not consumed any liquids that day, aside from iced coffee.  But I wasn’t really thirsty so I figured it could wait until I got home.)

Around 5, I got home and chugged a big cup of water before heading out to my workout.  (Wow, this sounds like such a bad idea now that I’m sitting here writing it out.)

Around 7, I found myself collapsed on my bed in a bloated heap, crying into the ice pack I’d laid over my eyes in an attempt to shush my pounding head, and trying not to barf up the gallon of water I’d consumed after my run in a feeble attempt to re-moisten my shriveled insides.

I’d probably still be there, if I hadn’t had to deal with this little shit, who not-so-politely pointed out that I’d missed dinnertime by climbing onto the bed and screaming in my face.

(Oddly enough, my cats are usually remarkably adept at picking up on my emotional state: if I’m sick, they’ll curl up and give me sympathy snuggles rather than howling about their food.

But today, Parker must have totally been all like: “Whatevs, it’s your own damn fault you feel like shit, you dumbass.  Get up and feed me.”)

Anyway.  Lesson learned.  As it turns out, I may be able to get away with eating like a python, but hydrating like a camel doesn’t work quite as well.

Tomorrow?  I shall drink water.  And then perhaps I’ll be able to have a more exciting evening than this:

Good night!

Drunken Tomato Sauce (for one)

Sometimes, I’ll be whipping up something easy and Italian-ish for dinner on a random weeknight and I’ll secretly pretend that I’m Giada De Laurentiis.   And fancy that a group of wealthy and ethnically diverse friends, all of whom have perfect teeth, are on their way over for a beach picnic in which we’ll eat “spah-GHETT-eee” with “roh-MAHN-oh” while sipping infused cocktails and laughing carelessly about how wonderful our lives are.

And then I remember that I don’t live on the beach.  And I’m dining with my cats tonight.  And most of my friends live in my computer.

Oh well.  It’s probably a good thing I’m not Giada anyway.  If I were, I’d be standing in front of my bathroom mirror admiring my boobs right now instead of writing this post.  And where would that leave us?

Probably not collapsed on the couch in a carb coma with some kickin’ garlic breath.

I whipped up a no-cook Drunken Tomato Sauce for dinner tonight and it was simply delicious.  Just tomatoes, fresh basil, crushed garlic, a generous splash of white wine, a drizzle of olive oil and salt.  Processed until smooth. Almost.

With some fresh (from the freezer) pasta and leftover Italian sausage balls.  Quick.  Easy.  Garlicky and carby and absolutely delightful.

Take that and shove it in your push-up bra, Giada!

Cooking with wine –> wine with dinner.  Since the bottle was open and all.

What the heck is a cococciola? Apparently it’s a grape from the Abruzzo region in central Italy.  (Giada would probably know how to pronounce it.)

This bottle of Terre di Chieti Cococciola was a recommendation of the guy at one of the local wine shops here.  It’s a fairly dry, light-bodied white: some lemon, some apple, some peach/apricot and just a little bit of something zesty, like ground white pepper.  Quite enjoyable!  And I’m always happy to try something I’ve never heard of.

Bottom line: If you like Pinot Grigio, you’d like this!  Worth buying.  (Purchased at Seaboard Wines, $11.)

Well, the hot weather has returned here and a morning run awaits.  Goodnight, friends-who-live-in-my-computer!

(Thanks for not judging my garlic breath!)

Crackin’ a forty

No, we’re not talking about beer.  (Not yet, anyway.)

We’re talking about mileage!  And about how great it feels to build it back up a little bit.  My first 40+ mile week since, uh…May?  Wow.

M – 5 mi easy (treadmill, 1% incline, 41:50, 8:21 pace)
Tu – (AM) TRX + intervals at HEAT, total ~2 mi; (PM) 3.5 mi easy (group leader for social run, 35:00, 10:00 pace)
W – 5 mi easy (45:00, 9:00 pace)
Th – 7 mi easy, met up with with Jenny and Lisa (1:01, 8:42 pace)
F – 5 mi easy, thought about doing a tempo-ish run but then just decided to do a medium-paced run, it was a gorgeous morning and I just wanted to enjoy it! (40:57, 8:11 pace)
Sa – 11 mi easy (long run w/hubs, 1:45:00, 9:30 pace)
Su – Intervals at HEAT (total ~2.5 mi)

Total: 41 miles.  Yay!

A few notes:

  • The weather was freakin’ GORGEOUS this week.  GORGEOUS.  Low humidity and everything.  It was enough to get me out of bed for a record FOUR morning workouts this week.
  • I’m still running naked and really enjoying it.  Nope, I don’t miss the Garmin at all.  It’ll continue to hibernate in my underwear drawer for a few more weeks.
  • Those HEAT classes?  Are continuing to kick my ass and I’m totally loving it.  I’m going to try to go twice a week for the rest of the summer.  Yeah, it a little expensive, but I like the format of pay-per-use better than a gym membership.  Because the fact is that I simply am not going to go lift weights.  And committing to a gym for a whole year is scary anyway.  I’m hoping these classes help my strength a little bit so I don’t get those pathetic sore abs and arms after every race this fall.
  • I can haz new shoes?

I need another pair of running shoes like a turkey needs a popsicle.  Buuuuut…this adorable pair of Brooks Green Silence was a random special order for my co-worker’s girlfriend and she decided to get a different color so these were just sitting in the stockroom, whispering my name every time I walked by them.

“We’re your size,” they hissed.  “We’re adorable.  We’re baby blue.  We’re imprinted all over with flower cutouts and would be perfect for speedwork.”

So much for silence.

I’ve worn these to my last couple of HEAT classes and I love them!  They’re lightweight (6.9 oz) and have a relatively shallow heel-to-toe drop (8mm, versus 12mm in my Ghosts and most other running shoes).  There’s not much cushion, so you definitely feel the ground a little, but I like that kind of ride.  I’m not taking them out on a 20-miler any time soon, but I think they’ll be great for speedier stuff!

Also, they are made from recycled plastic bottles or something.  And obviously, they are baby blue and cute as hell.  (They are not “Carolina Blue” as everyone around here claims.  Hello, I am not from these parts. Don’t drag me in to your college sports wars.  I just like the color blue.)

Anyway.  Another W for Brooks in my book!

So.  Now we are gonna to talk about beer.  I wish I had a FOUR-TAY of this Victory Summer Love Ale:

I’ve never been disappointed in a Victory beer, and this one was no exception.  The bottle’s kitschy label, featuring scenes from beaches and ballparks, shrouds the contents in mystery, giving no indication of the beer’s style.  I expected something pretty light.

But actually, it was more like a Pale Ale.  (Technically, it’s a Blonde.)  Everything about its flavor evokes the outdoors: you get plenty of grass and pine along with a distinct floral flavor, but on a softer level than other Blondes/Pales.  It was definitely an enjoyable beer and a refreshing break from the normal summer seasonal lineup of wheat and fruit beers.  5.2% ABV.

Bottom line: Get it!  (Purchased at I-don’t-know-where since my coworker gave it to me.  Victory is out of PA so I imagine you can find this readily at specialty shops and higher-end grocery stores on the east coast.)

Alrighty, kids.  That’s all from me for now.  We had a sidewalk sale at work this weekend and I’ve been husslin’ my butt off ringing up $2 tee shirts for the last three days.  (Yes, it was the pinnacle of my young career.)  I’m off to throw a cattle slab on the grill with some veggies and call it a week.  See ya tomorrow!

How was your weekend? And how was your week last week, workout/mileage-wise?

Slump chump

Don’t you hate it when people are all like:

“OMG, I’m such an amazing cook, but I suck at baking because it’s too hard to measure things! My genius must not be hampered by recipes that require exactly two teaspoons of vanilla!  I’m just too zany and impulsive in the kitchen to tolerate the dull exactness of baking!”

Me too.  But: I’ll admit that I’ve uttered words like these on more than one occasion.  My eyes glaze over when I read things in recipes like: “Four-fifths of a cup of enriched but NOT bleached cake flour, sifted three times and then leveled with a knife.”

Uh, yeah…I think I’ll just go buy a cupcake or whatever.

So as cliche as it is, I’ll own the fact that baked goods with loosey-goosey instructions very much appeal to me.  Because measuring is, in fact, kinda hard.

This is why I love a good slump.

A slump is a a bunch of fruit topped with sugary biscuit dough, baked until the fruit is delicious and mushy and the topping is crumbly and brown. The bready part doesn’t have to be perfect because it’s gonna get all mixed up with the fruit and juices anyway.  Fast and loose.  My kind of baked good.

You could even make this with sugared-up Jiffy biscuits.  Or leftover KFC biscuits.  (Which are, hands down, the best thing about KFC.)  Making the whole thing from scratch us super easy, though.  It only took me about ten minutes to prep this summery dessert!

Recipe: Peach Raspberry Slump [via Martha Stewart]

Good carb loading for a pre-breakfast speed workout tomorrow?  Let’s hope so! Apparently the temps are gonna be in the 60s in the morning (OMG).  I plan to take full advantage!

Booze School: the Pinks

First of all, thanks everyone for your support on my Epic Fry-Free Summer Program.  And especially to Megan who just tweeted at me that today is National French Fry Day.


I will not celebrate with a trip to Chick-Fil-A….I will not celebrate with a trip to Chick-Fil-A….

Since I am definitely NOT giving up the sauce this summer, I want to dedicate today’s post to one of my favorite summer beverages: PINK WINE.

Oh, rosè.  Is there anything more refreshing on a hot day?  Nay, I say.  Nay!

Enough with the rhyming, hey?  Okay.

Anyway.  (Gah!)

What is it? Pink wines are most commonly labeled as rosè, blush, or the oft-maligned White Zinfandel.  What’s the difference?

Before getting in to that, let’s briefly discuss the broader issue of color in wines.

Wine gets its hue from the skin of the grape.  So red wine is made from purple/black grapes, and white wine can either be made from green/white grapes or from purple/black grapes that are fermented without the skin.

Rosè is typically made by crushing purple/black grapes and then leaving the skins in contact with the juice for a very short time during fermentation, allowing them to impart some of the color and intense flavor of the grape.  So a well-made rosè will have all of the taste characteristics of its red counterpart, but on a more subtle scale.

Blush is a term used primarily in the U.S.  It usually refers to rosè wines with relatively high residual sugar, making them sweet rather than dry.  Some winemakers also use blush to refer to a blended wine made by adding a small amount of red wine into a batch of white wine, although as I understand it this is fairly uncommon.

White Zinfandel is a type of rose made from Zinfandel grapes.  Largely an American/California thing, White Zins are often sweetened or blended with other sugary grapes like Muscat, making this punch-like wine popular with non-wine-drinkers, and subjecting it to scorn by aficionados.

Origin: C’est francais.  Rosè was first produced in Bordeaux in the form of a light Claret that would be considered a dark rosè by today’s standards.  Until the mid-18th century, it was the Bordeaux region’s biggest export.

Blushes and particularly White Zins became popular in America in the 1970s.  Apparently people really started to dig white wine.  But at the time, there were far more red wine grapes available.  Simple supply and demand: winemakers began trying to figure out new ways to turn red-wine grapes into bottles that the white-wine-hungry masses would buy.  In an accidental stroke of…something, the Sutter Home winery was fermenting a batch of Zinfandel grapes when something went wrong with the yeast, leaving a bunch of sugar in the wine that hadn’t yet turned to alcohol.  And thus, sweet White Zinfandel was born.

So you can thank your high school economics class – and a bad batch of yeast – for that box of Franzia Blush.

Buy it and drink it: Rosè has definitely increased in popularity over the last decade or so!  Whereas grocery store shelves once stocked only a few bottles – usually of that punchy Sutter Home variety – great pinks are easy to come by these days.  It’s a great choice when you want a something more complex than – but just as refreshing as – a traditional summer sipper like Sauv Blanc or Pinot Grigo.

Rosè wines go well with food, and in particular with summery fare like hamburgers and grilled sweet corn.  But they’re usually light-bodied enough to sip on their own as well.  Serve ’em chilled, but not so ice-cold that you can’t taste ’em.  (As with any chilled wine.)

According to my dude at Total Wine, French pinks are the way to go.  They’re a little harder to find in grocery stores, but most wine shops have a great selection, especially at this time of the year.

According to me, French pinks are indeed awesome but there are some great American and Spanish bottles too!

Here are a couple to try:

This Trader Joe’s Petit Reserve 2010 Napa Valley Rose definitely has one toe in Hawaiian Punch bowl with its sweet, fruit-forward flavor, but for the price it was an enjoyable wine.  A blend of who-knows-what, it greets you with lots cherries and strawberries before mellowing out to a mild punchy flavor.

Bottom line: Yeah, why not?  For the price, it’s not bad. I’ve definitely had worse pinks! It’s nothing special, but it gets the job done. (Purchased at Trader Joe’s, $6.)

And on the other end of the scale, we have a dry French rosè.

This Les Vignes des Precheurs 2010 Tavel Rose was delightful.  Crisp and refreshing with earthy black cherry undertones.  The Tavel region in France does pinks exclusively and it does them well.  According to Total Wine Dude, a Tavel rosè will rarely leave you disappointed.

Bottom line: Get it!  Worth every penny. (Purchased at Total Wine, $17.)

Do you drink pink?  Do you have a favorite bottle? Personally, I can’t wait to spend the hottest months of the summer sipping this stuff.  Rosè us up there with beer for me on the refreshment scale!

Sources and more fun reading: Wikipedia on RoseClaret, and the Tavel AOC; DCFoodies on Roses (good discussion in the comments); and In Vino Veritas’ Rosy View

No more fries

Alright.  It’s come to a point where I’ve admitted that something has to give.

I haven’t blogged about this because it isn’t the sort of thing I really enjoy writing about, but: I’m holding on to a couple of extra pounds right now and I’m kinda ready to say 23 skidoo to them.

I’m not going to waste any time and energy whining about how unfair it is that they are there.  I mean, it’s like five pounds.  And I know why they are there. They are there because my running mileage is down and I have a fondness for potato chips.  You probably know this by now.

At various points over the last few weeks, I’ve fleetingly entertained the idea of taking action.  And by that I mean: giving up something (or category of things) that I enjoy consuming.

Booze? Not going to happen.  (Although I have cut back.  You may have noticed that I don’t do the TODAY’S DRINK thing anymore.)

Bread? Nuh-uh, no way.  I love bread and it’s freaking everywhere and way too hard to avoid.

Candy? I don’t eat much candy anyway, so this wouldn’t do much good.

Ice cream? You may as well stab me to death with a dull pencil.  It’s summertime, dammit.  I will eat ice cream.

Then, on Sunday afternoon, the hubs came come from running some errands with a bag of McDonald’s french fries.

I don’t even remember what else was happening at the time, because within moments I was happily plucking those salty little sticks of heaven from their bright red carton, dragging them through the ketchup pile, and popping them into my mouth.  I love deep fried potatoes.  In fact, I love just about anything deep fried.  (Except pickles.)

And, you know what?  Most things that are deep fried taste pretty decent grilled, broiled or baked, too.

I found my sacrifice.

So while generally speaking I am not a fan of food vows, I’m making one: no more fried foods.  Not this summer.  Not until the first day of autumn.  At which point I will hopefully be able to pick up my running mileage again and not have to worry as much about this little gut.

I have no idea whether this will actually make a difference, but I think it’s worth a shot.  Right?

So, in an immediate attempt to replace the craving, I kicked things off tonight by making grilled fries.  While they weren’t as good as the red carton, they were pretty damn tasty:

(With an open-faced “caprese sandwich”…grilled marinated chicken, tomatoes, fresh mozzarella and greens on toasted sourdough with a balsamic reduction.  OMG.)

And at least I don’t have to give up TEH BOOZE!

From Rabbit Ridge Winery in Paso Robles, this Le Lapin “Ingenuity” White blend is indeed a smart wine.   A blend of Sauv Blanc, Chenin Blanc and Pinot Grigio, this wine was light, crisp and easy to sip!  Green apples, grapefruit and a bit of apricot dominated, making it a great bottle to sip while nibbling on something fruity.

(Or while plowing through a plate of grill fries.)

Bottom line: Get it!  A very nice summertime wine at a great price.  (Purchased at Whole Foods, $8.)

And finally, here are some boring running stats…for the last two weeks, since apparently I never posted them last week.  (Oops.)

Week of 6/27 to 7/3:

M – 50 min easy (~5.5 M)
Tu – 30 min easy (~3.4 M)
W – AM: Tempo run on TM, 3 M, 22:45 (7:35 pace); PM: 55 min easy (~6 mi)
Th – 45 min easy (~5 mi)
F – HEAT workout (strength + TM intervals) plus run to and from studio: overall 5.5 mi (43:30, 7:53 pace)
Sa – OFF
Su – Easy run w/hubs (1:17, ~8 mi, 9:45 pace)

Total: 37 miles

Week of 7/4 to 7/10:

M – OFF (Hike in Asheville)
Tu – 30 min easy (~3.4 M) + core class
W – Godiva track meet, 3K race + WU/CD, 5 miles total.
Th – 50 min easy (~5.5 mi)
F – HEAT workout, strength + TM intervals, total 3.5 mi
Sa – 10 miles long on hills (1:35, ~9:30 pace)
Su – 5.5 easy (treadmill, 45:00, 8:11 pace)
Total: 33 miles

Aaaaand I’m off to bed because something possessed me to sign up for the 6 AM “Tread + Shred” TRX class tomorrow morning at 6 AM at HEAT.

I might actually die.

At least if I vomit, it will be homemade grilled Yukon fries and not that Mickey D’s shit.  I’m sure that will be a lot more appealing to every else in the class.