Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Why We Can Drink California Wine on Sunday and the Northwest Wine Academy

My wife has been taking courses at the South Seattle Community College at the school's wine program, the Northwest Wine Academy.  We both love wine and sometimes have fantasies about becoming part of the wine life.  Naturally, I require a debrief after each class and sometimes I go along with her when she has a class project or volunteers at the school.
That’s where we are now, at the wine program’s brand new winery and classroom building, a simple, lovely design with classrooms, a lab and a tasting room for the student-made wines. There’s also a place where the wines of the school’s alumni are available for sale, many of them very good and hard to find elsewhere because some are yet very small. It is a big improvement over its first building back in 2005 when it started. Among the drawbacks of the old building was that it shared space with the welding program, which gave a metallic nose to most wines tasted there.
Barbara is volunteering for this year’s release of new student wines and the first Fall release in the new building on November 21-23. People are scurrying around the place, tasting wine, giving informal tours to family and friends and admiring the new production gear and the obvious care of the building design. Boxwood, an architectural firm renowned in the winery world, is re-using old materials in different ways. One wall is ground up shipping pallets glued into brick forms designed to insulate the barrel room where the wine ages best at consistent temperatures. The tasting room bar is
a rectangle of galvanized fencing full of eastern Washington rocks with a gray slate tabletop. If you’ve ever been to Carlton Winemakers Studio in the Willamette Valley, you’ll have a feel for the design of this one. Boxwood did both.
South Seattle’s wine program is one of several that are training participants for the growing wine industry in Washington State. Community colleges in Walla Walla, Wenatchee, Yakima, Tri-Cities, and four year institutions Washington State University and Central Washington University are offering a variety of courses covering many aspects of the wine industry. Some feature a greater emphasis on the growing of fruit and the making of the product while others focus on marketing, distribution and the interface between wine and food.
There are 28,000 full time equivalent jobs in the Washington state wine industry, about the same number of employees working at the University of Washington, and there is demand for more people. A quick peak www.winejobs.com tells me that 26 jobs are open in the Northwest this morning and another 279 openings in California.
In addition to the community colleges and four year institutions, there are other groups playing roles in developing talent. The Boeing Employees Beer and Wine Club, organized in 1978, is a powerful education resource which has spun off 20 or so wineries in Washington and many second careers in the wine business. The Washington Athletic Club has a wine club for the past seven years that shows off its extensive Washington state collection and provides wine dinners and wine tours for its members. Nearly all decent wine stores create opportunities for expanding the tastes of their customers and for producers to meet consumers. In Prosser, the Port of Benton County has just opened The Walter Clore Center, a kind of wine museum and gathering place for special events that the wine country businesses thrive on.  In Tri-Cities, WSU has broken ground on the Wine Science Center, offering four year degrees and the link to research that the wine industry, and indeed all agriculture, thrives on.  
Clore was a very particular and detailed researcher from WSU who soon fell in love with the structure of the ground he was walking on – scoured by the many glacial era floods and then dusted by Loess, the wind-blown soils that settled at depths deep enough to feed the vines at a deep down, allowing them to better survive the cold winters. He became aware of the climate pockets that gave further protection to the fruit and documented how the soils changed as they rose above the historic floods.

His experiments moved to other species of grape, European varieties that produced premium wine where conventional wisdom held that Washington’s climate wouldn’t support grapes that then grew in temperate environments like Napa, Sonoma and Santa Barbara. But all these different climates and soils and the Frenchy latitudes running across the state told Clore a different story, that this was wine grape country that the world would come to know soon enough.
California Grower
During Prohibition, grapes of any kind were in considerable demand because home winemakers could produce up to 200 gallons of wine for personal use. In fact, US wine consumption per person doubled between 1915 and 1925, the first ten years of Prohibition in Washington. California wineries shipped not only grapes for these “kitchen wines”, but bricks of grape concentrate – just add water. In the Northwest, the transportation issues made California wine grapes more difficult to get whatever their form, so drinkers made do with what was close by – Concord grapes along with any other fruit that would ferment, particularly apples.

Post Prohibition, tastes for the cheaper, sweet stuff hung on, in part because wineries in California were now consuming all the grapes being grown there. A half gallon of Apple Andy, a very hard cider produced by Pommerelle, provided an effective alternative and sold for $1.32 in 1950.
The National Wine Company, Nawico, had a big shop in the Fremont district of Seattle where they mixed various fortified wines, ports and sherries. Their neon sign was a local landmark. In 1965, the company advertised its version of the perfect accompaniment to that year’s Thanksgiving.


“Heat together in a sizeable kettle one bottle of Nawico Port Wine, one bottle of Nawico Burgundy wine (.84 cents!), one bottle of Brandy and a half pound of seedless raisins. Boil for several minutes, then add a hand full of cloves, a stick of cinnamon and 4-5 twists of lemon peel. Serve in a glass with a handle on it and put an almond in each cup.”

Triple Yum!!!  Not.

There are many avenues from the past that lead to today's Washington wine industry -- geologic, business, academic, cultural and political -- avenues that bring us to this wine tasting room at South Seattle Community College. I’m interested today in the political avenues that lead to the energy in this room. While wine’s antecedents in the Northwest date back to the Hudson’s Bay Company, I’m going to begin with the political narrative that started in 1966.

An unlikely combination of interests in that year made it possible to change the law making purchase of alcohol on Sundays illegal, a big impediment to the food and entertainment industries. Soon after, the Washington State Legislature of 1969 put the laws governing alcohol consumption closer to the evolving attitudes of its citizens. At that same session, legislators settled on a crucial and controversial economic choice for the state’s wine industry. In those three years at the end of the 60’s, the political and economic foundations for today’s industry formed.

After 1909, one could not legally buy alcohol on Sunday in Washington State, nor could citizens enjoy dancing, horse racing, selling cars, boxing, or other “loud, noisy or boisterous sport or amusements.” Promptly at twelve o’clock on a New Year’s evening, the drinks were picked up before the patrons could get through one “should old acquaintance be forgot.” Wine with dinner on a Sunday had to be at a private home and you had to remember to purchase it the day before.


A young man from California, former Seattle sportscaster Rod Belcher, spent 1943 in the Army Air Corps at Paine Field in Everett and once wrote a parody of Rudyard Kipling's "Road to Mandalay" on the difficulty of getting a drink on Sunday in Washington state:

"On the road to Puget Sound, where the fog and rain abound, and to get a drink on Sunday makes a man go underground."

The implementation of state laws at the end of Prohibition, the 1933 Steele Act, created other restrictive statutes that forbade patrons to drink while standing or walking and barred women from sitting at a cocktail bar though for some reason it was okay in a tavern. The interior of taverns had to be visible from the street, the better to see ladies illegally moving their drink to the pool table. What would have happened to grunge if musicians under 21 could not could not play in places where liquor was sold, another restrictive law of the time. And there was that pesky law that forbade alcohol within a mile of the University of Washington campus. Some of these laws were ignored, but sometimes the cops would show up and ruin an evening.
Lem Howell
Two young political activists surveyed this scene and saw opportunity. Lem Howell, an attorney and president of the Washington Young Democrats, was looking for an organizing opportunity that could energize Democrats in the 1966 election and recruit people for the 1968 presidential cycle. He settled on an initiative to open up Sunday alcohol sales. Howell, intimidated by the job of collecting well over 100,000 signatures, looked for help from an activist Republican and found Camden Hall, who headed up the young Republicans at the University of Washington. Unlike today, lots of Republicans roamed the Seattle savannah and there was a sturdy balance between the two parties and a willingness to work together if the opportunity was right.
Camden Hall
Both men were smart and creative and took a bold turn in forming their coalition. They approached the Seventh Day Adventist Church in Washington with the argument that the Washington State blue laws were discriminating against their church, whose services were on Saturday. Turns out that ignoring their Saturday Sabbath also grated on them. So, this coalition of Republicans, Democrats and fundamentalists went to the field, collected nearly 200,000 signatures and won the election handily, losing just seven rural counties. Some counties were close, but King and Pierce had overwhelming margins, close to three to one, and the Liquor Control Board, formed after Prohibition, long a bastion of the Alcohol Problem League, the successor to the Temperance Union, agreed unanimously with the vote on Hall's and Howell's initiative and opened up sales of alcohol on Sunday.

In the 1969 session of the Washington Legislature, the alcohol laws were reorganized and made less intrusive. More important in that session, however, was the legislature’s willingness to take on the entrenched, protected sweet wine industry within the state and open the state to 
California wines even when their industry was far ahead of our own. Alcohol was still dangerous political territory in a state that had adopted Prohibition in 1916 ahead of most states, but after the success of the Sunday sales initiative, the Wine Institute of California decided on a full court press to ease the restrictions on its wine products.
Unfortunately for its supporters, this bill became known as the California Wine Bill which made it even more controversial. California and the Pacific Northwest had an uneasy relationship, particularly in that year. Governor Dan Evans campaigned in 1968 on a pledge that “California will not get one drop of Washington water.” Governor Tom McCall, in Oregon, was telling Californians to “Visit, yes. But for God’s sake don’t stay!” Time Magazine first used the word "californicate" in 1966 and by 1969 northwest states had thousands of bumper stickers urging its citizens not to do that awful thing to themselves. A purchase of 4,000 acres of Concord grapes in Yakima had people thinking that Ernest and Julio Gallo were going to start controlling this state’s industry as they controlled California. Alas, it was only to make Andre Cold Duck, a red, sweet, bubbly wine synonymous with celebratory events for the average Joe.
California's problem was that their wineries could only sell wine to the state Liquor Control Board which applied a tax and marked them up for the trouble of storage, distribution and shelf space in the state’s liquor system. The markup was, on average, about 84%. A two dollar California varietal presented itself to a Washington consumer at about $3.50. Choices of which California brands the Liquor Control Board would buy were also unfair. On the other hand, Washington wines, still mostly sweet and fortified, could be sold directly to wholesalers and grocers after paying a ten cent a gallon tax and were broadly available on most grocery shelves.

By 1969, there were only eight wineries in Washington, mostly big and producing sweet wines, but pathfinders in the new industry of premium wines were beginning to make good wine and believed they could compete. They liked to say that when Washington was done, Californians would be making raisins.  
While overblown, the sentiment had considerable energy behind it.  The Leonetti family in Walla Walla, for years made lovely wine mainly for its own use. Others, like Professor Angelo Pellegrini, by now a famous cook and food writer, would get shipments of grapes from his friend Robert Mondavi and produce his own.  A club of six University of Washington professors and four other friends began making their own fine wines -- Associated Vintners -- with Pellegrini’s help, in 1962. First in the Laurelhurst neighborhood and then in Kirkland, they bought grapes and made good wine. With Doctor Clore’s help, they bought land in the Yakima Valley and planted their own grapes. A production error blew out their first vintage but they offered a Riesling in 1967 that had critical praise.  In 1967. Ste. Michelle Winery, the successor company to Nawico and Pommerelle, offered its first Cabernet Sauvignon in 1967 and planted its first vineyard in 1972.
Most legislative victories start with a great lobbyist. When the California wine industry made its first attempt in 1967 to get rid of the preferential treatment of Washington wines, Ivan Kearns was the lobbyist for the Washington Grape Growers Association and and was famous for his deep friendships in the legislature. In that session, Kearns kept the Californians at bay.
Tom Owens
But Kearns retired at the end of the 1967 session and the California Wine Institute had a great lobbyist of its own ready for the 1969 session, Thomas J. Owens, known as Tommy Raincoat, for his very fine London Fog with what seemed to have a hundred buttons on it. There would be a perfectly put together suit underneath, usually a crimson tie with silver stripes over a perfect white shirt. He liked a vest and looked trim in it.

Tom brought a full bag of skills to the California Wine Bill. He’d worked in the Seattle City Attorney’s office and knew local government. He was a cocky advocate and highly competitive. But he was also a lot of fun. His approach differed from the low key Kearns, but it still developed and maintained relationships. He was also married to wine and the good life. His wife was Angelo Pellegrini’s daughter. In one of his books, Pellegrini referred to Owens as “the scamp.”

The vote passed the House easily and found its way to Senate. It went to The Rules Committee first to see if the committee thought it was worthy of a Senate vote. The Rules Committee at that time acted in secret, alleging that a little secrecy was the way to avoid political pressure. In fact, they were really not avoiding pressure, but keeping control of everything the legislature did.

A few years later, as a young man, I was told by my editor to go into the Rules Committee room before the meeting and refuse to leave.

Puffing up, I said: “I’m not leaving until the meeting is over.”

“Well, the meeting is over,” Chairman of Rules and Lieutenant Governor John Cherberg said, banging down the gavel. The committee convened elsewhere in a few minutes. I realized that they had done this before.

As the regular session of the 1969 Legislature ended on Friday, The Rules Committee listed the bills that would be voted on during the Senate’s last day. The California Wine Bill was not among them. Papers at the time recorded the vote as 9-8 against sending the bill to a vote, though, as per the rules of the day, no names were associated with the votes.

Governor Evans called a special session immediately as several other important bills, abortion rights, for example, had not been acted on. Two weeks later, as the special session wound down, the California Wine Bill was back in Rules and was subject to the same close vote, 9-8. Only this time, the wine bill had the nine. It passed the Senate easily.

Talking with a friend when I was thinking of writing this piece, he said:

“Do you know, that was a $20,000 vote to get out of Rules?”

We will never know whether there was cash moving that day or not, though we should not be surprised. We do know that the bill worked as advertised. The cheap, sweet and heavy alcohol wines lost market share and California wines replaced them on the shelves. But the Washington state premium wine industry exploded, taking back market share over the years from the California colossus and is a $14 billion dollar industry today.
The Wine Academy’s winemaker, Peter Bos, is supervising the crush of the Cabernet grapes that have just come in from Eastern Washington. Bos has worked in the Washington industry since 1977 and, because of his extensive connections with growers, the grapes crushed at the school are all donated. Donated grapes are welcome, but come with issues. Perhaps they are picked a bit late, or sat in the field for a few hours longer. But Bos looks at problems as a set of questions his students can answer.

“Perfect grapes don’t have as many unique problems that need to be solved. Lots of things can go wrong with grapes, but many of those problems can be dealt with. The more problems, the more solutions my students can find and the smarter they’ll be.”

As we walk around the filling tanks, we chat up some of the students, a broad spectrum of professions and ages. One is a pathologist, another a student getting an interesting credit. A third is a winemaker himself. He owns an upscale Pioneer Square deli, Delicatus, and produces his own wines there.

“Why wouldn’t you want to work with a guy who has worked in the Washington wine industry for the last forty years?” he says.

Reggie Daignaeult is the manager of the wine program and brings distribution, wine buying and restaurant expertise to the program. She’s got a great nose, honed while growing up in Philadelphia where her Dad made dinner rolls for local restaurants in her basement. Along with the business side of wine, she teaches sensory evaluation and a course Barbara and I hope to take together next year, Wines of the World.

I like the atmosphere she and others have helped create here. There is absolutely nothing stuffy about the place and the mix of professionals and amateurs among the students creates an additional and very rich level of learning. These are the people you will one day see in the terrific wine industry that has grown up in this state. Some will serve you, others will be that knowledgeable customer next to you.

They are the people who populate that not-so-mythical winery down the road on a perfect day. You sample some wines, learn from the conversation and, upon leaving, exchange a knowing look with your partner, saying:

“You know, I really liked that."

The Northwest Wine Academy at South Seattle Community College will release six of its student wines November 21, 22, 23 and also show you around their new home. The wines are:

· 2012 Chardonnay
· 2012 White Merlot
· 2010 Petit Verdot
· 2011 Lemberger
· 2011 Mourvedre
· 2011 La Scuola (an Italian blend of         
Sangiovese, Barbera and Nebbiolo)
They will be open between 2 and 7PM.
On Friday, November 22, Wine Academy alumni winemakers will offer their own wines for tasting between 5PM and 7PM.
South Seattle Community College is at 6000 16th Avenue SW.
There is no charge.


Northwest Wine Academy









Monday, March 12, 2012

A New Face of the Poor


I came across a World Bank study last week that tracks extreme poverty in the developing world and its results, driven by China’s amazing 30 year economic run, got me thinking and reading about measuring poverty. 

The World Bank has been tracking extreme poverty in the developing world since 1981 and has created a measurement, surviving on less than $1.25/day, as its threshold measure.  The World Bank’s policy goal when it started was to reduce extreme poverty by half in the year 2015.  It appears to be ahead of schedule and may, with these results, have achieved its goal. 

It was astounding to learn that since 1981, China has moved nearly 700 million people out of the extreme poverty definition used by the bank.  The percentage of people living in extreme poverty in China during that time has gone from 84% of the population in 1981 to just 13% in 2008.  In fact, China has moved nearly as many people beyond a $2.00/day threshold in that time.  Other countries in that region which includes Malaysia, the Philippines, Indonesia and Vietnam, as well as India next door, showed remarkable movement as well, pushing hundreds of millions of the poorest of the poor into a slightly more stable life. 

Brazil and the relative economic health across South America is also a good story for the very poor.  In fact, for the first time, extreme poverty rates fell in all regions of the globe, even in sub-Saharan Africa, now the world’s greatest basket case.  Its poverty rate declined slightly.  Among several pieces of news in the World Bank release are these:

1.   The World Bank’s goals of reducing extreme poverty by half in the year 2015 have likely been met.

2.   The Great Recession, against conventional thinking, has not impeded the reduction of extreme poverty between 2008 and 2010.

3.   A separate goal, shared by the World Bank and the United Nations, has it that nearly 2 billion people gained access to better drinking water between 1990 and 2010.

In a certifiably crazy world, it is good to see a measurement that brings, even in small increments, some good news. 

Mollie Orshansky
Social Security Administration
Reading about poverty measurement in the United States brought me to Mollie Orshansky.  She started her professional life as an economist when the measurements for well-being in this country were off-the-charts-low, in 1935.  Unemployment was just over 21%.  The Gross Domestic Product of the country was coming back from its low of 50% of pre-depression levels in 1933 to 30% in 1935.  Perhaps she had a slight burst of pleasure at that news, but I doubt it.

Even if you thought, in 1935, that women had an important place in the workforce, a single professional woman looking for work then was competition to the out of work head of household breadwinner, even if the woman was an economist and the head of household a plumber.  For many people, something was just not right about it and that led a lot of talented women like Mollie to the Department of Agriculture and the brand new Social Security Administration, where as an analyst, she was present at the creation of today’s modern poverty line. 

Her statistical analysis provided the background for the Johnson Administration’s most basic policies dealing with the poor.  The timing of her work, coming as the new Johnson Administration was embarking on its War on Poverty initiative, could not have been better.  Sargent Shriver, head of the Office of Economic Opportunity, and Joe Califano, Secretary of Health and Human Services, were the leading generals of the War on Poverty and were looking for ammunition that would feed the onslaught of legislation Lyndon Johnson had in mind.  Then, one day, these giants of the administration came across a modest looking Social Security Bulletin, produced by Orshansky, called “Children of the Poor.” 

She based her numbers measuring poverty on the monthly diets developed by the US Department of Agriculture beginning in the thirties.  By the 1950s, she was finding a statistically important mark, how much poor people spent on food. The concept of the food basket she worked on then presumed four levels of food consumption based on the economic standing of the presumed purchaser.  These food baskets gave direction to people who sought a nutritious diet, whatever their income.  People with higher incomes purchased the Liberal Plan, lower incomes the Moderate Plan, the third Low Cost and the fourth, Thrifty, a diet that would reflect very tight times that could be survived, with the bare necessities, over short periods. 

These market baskets had a role in determining a fair amount of public policy having to do with the distribution of crop surpluses, relief, guidelines for other social service agencies, the introduction of food stamps in 1961 and other programs across the country providing a safety net under the very poor.

Other parts of sustaining a minimal life for poor Americans were not as fact-based as the nutritious market basket consumed by all levels of society.  How much clothing do people need?  How much transportation?  How much housing? 

Lacking consensus information about these features of life, Orshansky stuck with what she knew, the food basket.  She had shown, in the fifties, that low income people spent one third of their after tax income to purchase food and that the amount of food and its cost vary with the size and age of the families. What food would an elderly woman purchase?  What would a family of four with two children need?  What is the cost to a single mother with two toddlers?  Using her food expense information as a base, she created a multiplier to become a proxy for those other, ill-defined needs like clothing and housing.  Applying a multiplier to the food cost produced a dollar value for the annual cost to many different types of families.  In 1964, Orshansky’s calculations resulted in a cost of $3,135 annually for a father, mother and two children.  That became the poverty line for that demographic.  She actually built out some fifty different demographic scenarios and created a set of scenarios distinguising between farm families and urban families. 

Using a completely different methodology, the Johnson era Council of Economic Advisers came up with a similar figure of $3,000 a year, but it had no demographic flexibility.  According to their measure, a single person living on $2,900/year would be classified poor while a family of five living on $3,100/year would not be.  Orshansky’s work made things fairer and was enthusiastically adopted by the War on Poverty.

For thirty years, the government struggled to find another basis for calculating its poverty index by adding specific assumptions about clothing, shelter, utilities, plus other needs like household supplies and non-work-related transportation.   Finally, the new base case poverty index was ready in 1990 and used a percentage, somewhere around 75%, of an average cost of living for middle class family of two children and two parents.  It did not include all things – health insurance and medical care among them. 

Using the revised structure, a little over 13% of the population, about 40 million people, are classified as poor and have access to various low income benefits provided by federal, state and local governments.   

At the end of last year, however, the Obama Administration made another effort to define “poor.”  The Bureau of the Census updated the poverty thresholds by adding in more “modern” costs – particularly medical costs, which had been ignored by the 1990 update and which have a disproportionate effect on seniors.  The sum of it all is that the level of poverty has grown to nearly 16% or slightly more than 47 million Americans.  While the figures from the Census Bureau increase the rate of poverty we recognize, the numbers are not used for calculating benefits, that’s done over at Health and Human Services, which will continue to use the previous guidelines for the time being.  However, the push and pull between the Census Bureau trying to get things right and the Department of Health and Human Services trying to do the possible is an interesting and healthy tension and one that at least strives to be fair.

Analysts like numbers that show the dynamics of the time they are trying to measure.  Measurements like the unemployment rate or inflation rates produce useful information but don’t offer the kind of three dimensional views that show more clearly how the economy is affecting people’s lives. 

Efforts to combine information have produced numbers like the “Misery Index,” a combination of unemployment rates and inflation that surfaced in the late seventies.  While showing the dynamic of a weak economy buffeted by inflation, it was really a political tool, not an economic one. 

Recently, a new measure of the Great Recession’s misery, the Economic Security Index, was unveiled by the Rockefeller Foundation and a prestigious group of scholars assembled by the foundation.  Its policy purpose is to raise the issue of economic security among policy makers and thought leaders.  The foundation thinks that many Americans are walking along the edge of the economy and wants to know just how many there are on that precipice, who they are and what policies can we think about that might make their lives and the lives of their families less perilous. 

They idea is to measure what happens to Americans whose household income is falling dramatically and, at the same time, they are faced with high medical bills or some other calamity and their savings are insufficient to offset the sudden storm.  With this index, the foundation can tell us that the proportion of Americans economically insecure has been higher in 2009 and 2010 than at any time in the previous 25 years. 

The premise is that bad news comes in bunches.  The scholars define bad news as the loss of more than 25% of existing annual income, either through loss of work or medical costs or both and with no savings to replenish the loss.  Having put the Economic Security Index together, the scholars can now go back, apply historical data, and get a picture of insecurity over time. 

Their analysis shows that economic insecurity has risen quite dramatically over the last 25 years.  In 1985 the ESI Index showed that 12.2% of Americans experienced a major economic loss that would classify them as insecure.  At the beginning of the 2000s, 17% suffered the loss of at least 25% of their income in a year.  Before the most recent downturn, in 2007, it reflected the better economic times, dropping to about 14%.  The first two years of the Great Recession propelled the index over 20% in ‘08 and ’09.

Comparing the ESI Index to the Poverty Index and the Unemployment Rate shows that economic insecurity is still highly significant even when times are very good, say in the years between 1997 and 2007.  Also, their data shows that the size of the losses over 25% has increased steadily over the past 25 years, meaning the losses are significantly more severe.

Also telling is the percentage of demographic groups most affected by the big loss of income in a given year.  The single individual without children does best and doing poorly are people with children and single parents. 

There’s something about this measurement that is particularly compelling to me.  It captures an intuition from this recession that there is a thin line between being middle class and falling out of of the middle class into near poverty or worse.  Anecdotal information from people who run food banks, manage low income housing and run a variety of charities seems to confirm the idea of the Economic Security Index, that being middle class is far from a permanent status and that new faces are showing up where the poor gather.

World Bank Extreme Poverty Update

Rockefeller Foundation Economic Security Index

Sunday, January 8, 2012

San Francisco For The New Year

We went down to San Francisco over the holidays and spent New Year’s Eve – and way too much of New Year’s morning – at the last performance there for a time of Teatro ZinZanni, the mash up of dinner theater, European circus arts, musical comedy and all of it gender optional.  It’s a performance where you never sit in the front row, lest some androgenal performer makes you a part of the show like reaching into your shirt, stroking your nipple and narrating the physiological consequences. 
Norm Langill, founder of One Reel Vaudeville, started ZinZanni in Seattle back in 1998 as a short term, holiday event.  It stayed sold out for more than a year and he opened a San Francisco venue after two years.  The 19th century tent in which the performance occurs is located near what will become the finish line of the America’s Cup sailboat race which San Francisco hosts in 2013, so he has to move the production. 

We also spent some time closely observing the traffic and development on the Embarcadero.  It has some similarities to the Seattle waterfront that will evolve once the tunnel is finished and the big ugly viaduct gets torn down and recycled.  The Embarcadero once was home to an ugly fifties style viaduct of its own that was damaged by the Loma Prieta Earthquake of 1989 and removed.  We also spent quite a bit of time in the San Francisco Ferry Terminal, the new first citizen of the Embarcadero, that is now recast as a kind of Pike Place Market and beautifully done.

Finally, we drove out to Healdsburg in the Sonoma Valley about sixty miles North of San Francisco, a place we’ve been going for thirty years, just to see how the little square was holding up to all the cool foodies and high end hotels and artists.  Okay, maybe the other reason was to drink some wine in the Alexander and Dry Creek wine appellations and drive through the vines along the country lanes that break your heart when you turn around and head for home. 

Norm Langill
Teatro ZinZanni
Langill started One Reel Vaudeville in 1972, performing sketches, music and satire on a stage that folded out of the back of an old truck.  I once hired One Reel for a campaign event and spent the afternoon wondering what it would be like if I hid under the stage and rode off with these clever people.  Of course, I chickened out.

One Reel developed into Seattle’s special events manager and created the events we all grew up with and took our kids to – Bumbershoot, Family Fourth at Lake Union, Summer Nights at the Pier.  Langill has had a much larger effect on our community culture than most people understand.  His events have defined the lives of many thousands of people across several generations.  Last year, Langill left One Reel to focus on ZinZanni and other event ventures across the world.  He has found a new place to put his tent in San Francisco, but developing it will take most of 2012.  They plan on opening sometime in the Fall to be ready for the monster event the America’s Cup will be in San Francisco Bay.

Viaduct in 1960
Port of San Francisco
During the ferry terminal’s centennial year, 1998, the Port of San Francisco put out a request for proposals to redevelop it.  The San Francisco Ferry Terminal sits in the middle of the waterfront and it had deteriorated, along with its other finger pier neighbors, during the viaduct days.  The Embarcadero Freeway was part of a 1951 master freeway plan for San Francisco that envisioned a ring road around the commercial core and elevated connections between the Bay and Golden Gate bridges. 

As the plan took concrete form, however, neighborhoods and preservationists organized, culminating in a full revolt in 1959 that stopped several projects, including the Embarcadero Freeway, where it lurked, mutely, awaiting its date with Loma Prieta. 
By 2003, a public/private partnership had renovated and reopened the ferry terminal, investing $140 million to create a space that looked, the day we visited, very much like our Pike Place Market.  It brings 6,000,000 people a year to visit – 75% of whom live in and around San Francisco.  It is also in the pathway of another 1,000,000 foot ferry passengers who come through. Friends we visited say they buy their dinners many nights on their way home across the bay. It has also become one of San Francisco’s top five tourist destinations. Every other day, the front of the terminal is home to a classic farmer’s market which complements the more permanent markets inside the hall. 

In addition to the market, there are 175,000 square feet of office space in the terminal (think 12% of the Columbia Tower) and the office spaces are equally wonderful.
The accomplishment in San Francisco is even more impressive when you consider how many markets just don’t get off the ground. Other communities in California like Oakland, Napa, Santa Rosa in the Bay Area are all struggling with their efforts to mimic the ferry terminal.  The public market in Los Angeles remains second class at best. 

It’s hard not to wonder, standing in the middle of such a lovely space, how Seattle’s Colman Dock Ferry Terminal will likely evolve on the new waterfront that takes place once our viaduct is finally gone.  One certain lesson from San Francisco is that our waterfront will evolve slowly, likely more slowly than we would prefer.  The Embarcadero Freeway was damaged in 1989, torn down in 1992 and the RFP for ferry terminal development was issued in 1998.  Five years later, it opened – fourteen years total. 

Because of the volumes of money involved and the sensitivity of the areas involved, slow and steady is not a bad rule for our waterfront development.  Twenty years from now Pioneer Square, for example, will house many more people and be a different place with different possibilities for the waterfront's south end.  Similarly, development just south of Colman Dock -- Pier 48, owned by the State Department of Transportation and Pier 46, still owned by the Port of Seattle, will have a lot to do with what happens at the ferry terminal.  The reverse is also true, putting a little urgency into coming up with a big idea for the terminal, even if we can't afford all of it just now.
City of Seattle, Colman Dock in the foreground

There is no proposal yet for Colman Dock in the evolving waterfront plan, just a set of ideas and concepts put together by the design consultant.  One of those concepts has Seattle’s terminal as a platform for a large, outdoor space constructed on the ferry terminal’s roof. 

The Seattle terminal brings some impressive pluses to any development.  It gathers lots of people.  About 200,000 ferry customers walk through the terminal each week, more than 8.5 million people annually.  The ferry system thinks 25% of those are tourists.  

It also has some negative numbers.  There are a lot of cars – nearly 700 cars an hour at peak -- so that whatever happens there has to rise above the cars.  In San Francisco, all the ferries at the terminal are passenger-only.  Colman Dock is not at the center of the waterfront as is the San Francisco terminal, but rather at its southern end.  It could use some permanent people productive activity to its south so that it is not the last stop on the waterfront.   With Seattle already having the Pike Market and with its connection to the waterfront considerably enhanced in the future waterfront design, it is unlikely a market would be a part of a revised use of the terminal.  But you can feel how cool it would be to have something that is equally as dynamic on the south side of the waterfront.  Thinking big is my thought for Colman Dock.

Healdsburg Museum
About the same time the San Francisco Ferry terminal opened, the little square at Healdsburg had a spare kind of look, geometric. But it was a prospering community, soon to lose its naked look to something more lush.  The founder, Harmon Heald, had plated the town right after statehood, in 1850, and had sold his lots at a brisk pace. 

The Russians, back in the early 1800s, planted grapes and made wine and noted that wine grapes were a good fit for the area.  However, when Agostin Haraszthy, the Hungarian immigrant, established the Buena Visita Winery in Sonoma in the 1850s, the idea of growing wine grapes started on its track to became an industry.

By 1920, at the cusp of Prohibition, Sonoma had 256 wineries and was farming 22,000 acres of grapes.  While tough on wineries – when repeal finally came along, just 50 wineries were left in Sonoma – the household individual exemption of 200 gallons a year of home made wine meant that farmers did well and their acreage had increased to 30,000 acres by 1933.

By the sixties, Sonoma wines were taking off, led by the Gallos, Sebastianis, Foppianos, Seghesio and other farming/producing immigrant families in the valley and followed by younger people who craved the food-centered lifestyle.  By the eighties, wine was pushing away dairy and the county’s considerable plum industry – the fruit of which the locals still call prunes – becoming the leading economic activity in the county.

Today, 49,000 acres are dedicated to grapes and 170 wineries are operating.
 
When I first started going to Healdsburg, in the late seventies, the little square wasn’t as prosperous and was home to a highly popular biker bar where no one really cared what the temperature was when the grapes were picked.  They were a hop crowd.  The tourism and lifestyle parts of the wine boom had not yet caught up to its production or quality.

By the 90s, you could get lovely food on the square and the Wine Country Inn, a Best Western in disguise, had a corkscrew everywhere you turned and rented us the top floor at a rate you'd die for today. This time, after an absence of ten years, the square is dominated by two large hotels, the Hotel Healdsburg, a Four star place sporting a Michelin star at its Dry Creek Kitchen and H2, a Euro-cool outfit next door.  The only bikes on the square today are little white Schwinns with front handlebar baskets at the H2.

There are 13 different wine appellations in Sonoma and we headed first for the Alexander Valley with a plan to cross over to Dry Creek after that.  However, just after we crossed the river, the alarm bells started going off as the Alexander Valley Store and Bar came into view, now disguised as a winery.  This better be good, I thought to myself as we circled the building.  The building is an historic part of the valley culture, plus it has a cool bar out back.  It is one of three historic country stores around Healdsburg and all of them look and feel like they belong right where they are just the way they are.

We walked in to the Medlock Ames tasting room and settled into a conversation with Victoria, a lovely and articulate woman who was a physics major from the University of California.  After trying to balance her paid job and her job of being a mother to four children, she dropped the balancing program and focused on the kids.  She now works a day a week at the tasting room.  Her father was a Bracero, the World War Two and post-war guest worker program the US started in the late thirties with Mexico.  Designed to bring workers from Mexico to places where they were needed in the US, Bracero means “strong arm.” Her Dad proved a strong arm and ultimately became an engineer and gave this country four children who found their way into the sciences and technology and also to the little tasting room near Healdsburg.

Victoria’s pours were sturdy and we were soon warming to the wine, the owners' story, the Bracero narrative and the wonderful job these young men had done with the Alexander Valley Store and Bar and with the organic grapes they grew, crushed and poured into bottles, apparently using little but gravity! The Bar doesn’t open until 5 PM, after the tasting room closes, but Victoria assured us that it was an equally good job and it remained a popular hangout for the locals.

We crossed over to Dry Creek, a tiny valley just a couple of miles wide and 11 miles long and home to Preston Vineyards, a time capsule of a place, pretty much unchanged from the time I first visited, seven years after Tom and Lori Preston first started taking out the prune orchard and putting in their grapes in 1972.  They would say it has changed a lot since they went organic, cut their grape production from 25,000 to 8,000 cases and started farming other products – vegetables, fruit, chickens, pigs, olives.


They are probably right about the changes in their business, but the physical venue is the same.  The old farm house tasting room is down a half mile long road, making a separation from the rest of the world and providing a bumpy journey back in time.  Cats are everywhere and require vigilance at the picnic table.

They still sell the jug wine, three liters for $36 dollars, made from odd lots of grapes tossed into bins during the crush, a bouillabaisse of a wine,
sold only on Sundays. 

Plenty has changed in Healdsburg, but it still keeps its authentic vibe.  The place carries its earnest demeanor even if many of the rooms now start at $400 bucks a night and the menus can come with a double-take.   It is still farm country.  There is still a barbershop and a tavern with a TV on the square.  And when the time comes to pull the rental car onto Highway 101, I'm still reaching for the Kleenex. 

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Dinner With Angelo Pellegrini

Lean Years, Happy Years
©Bob Peterson
Over Thanksgiving, Angelo Pellegrini popped into my mind and wouldn't leave.  Pellegrini is the famous food writer, immigrant and teacher -- of English at the University of Washington and of the good life through his gardening, wine making and cooking.

I think he got in there because I started leafing through a book he published in 1983 called "Lean Years, Happy Years."  It's about living the simple life in difficult economic times and how rich and satisfying the simple life is – and how available it is, no matter how chaotic the economic setting.  He started writing the book during the Reagan Recession in 1981, a pretty hard hit but certainly not as rough as today's economy.  His message of simplicity and self-reliance plays even better in the tougher time.

He’s also in there because of the Republican immigration debate and how we have so demonized immigrants and how much we depend on them – people like Pellegrini, who at ten years old moved to McCleary, Grays Harbor County, without a word of English, or like Ark Chin, the very sweet man and civil engineer from the firm Kramer Chin and Mayo.  Chin died last week and also was ten years old when he came to Grays Harbor County with no English.

These faceless and different creatures, rising from as humble a county as we have in Washington state, ultimately became teachers to their fellow Americans, one describing how to assemble the bounty everywhere around us and turn it into healthy food and a simple, satisfying life and the other helping us understand the meaning of community and public generosity. 

How thankful we are to have had these people and to have had the University of Washington to nourish them.  I don't know enough about Chin's early life to write about it now but I've read Pellegrini's books and know that Pellegrini speaks for all immigrants when he tells his stories.  He recounts his growing up, essentially a serf, in Italy at the beginning of the 20th century. If he were at dinner over the holiday weekend, we might have coaxed out of him a story about one of his many jobs as a child, collecting manure from goats and sheep with other boys in his village.  It would be mixed with straw and turned into a soil amendment, a critical job in a food system stressed to its edges to produce enough.  The boys recognized the expectations of their families and frequently fought over which turds would go into which bag.

Their solution to this fighting problem would make us laugh, the creation of an allocation system in which individual boys got the output of individual animals.  You could imagine the crowd of boys following a flock to where it was grazing that day, eyes scanning the butts of their chosen animals in front of them. 

We would hear about McCleary when, at 10 years of age, Pellegrini was put in with the first graders to develop his English, and how he quickly rose as the star pupil in his little school, becoming a top debater.


Great Northern Railway workers.  Pellegrini, about 15, is
second from the left of those standing
University of Washington Collection
We'd learn about his amazing discoveries around McCleary -- the mushrooms in the woods he gathered, salmon he caught in the local streams, ducks and pheasant he shot and brought home, the way vegetables popped out of the ground.
 
How cool it would have been to have Pellegrini to dinner.  When he first got there, I imagined, we likely would have offered Pellegrini a drink -- "A martini, perhaps, Angelo?"  In a kind way, so as not to offend, but firmly, he'd tell you what was wrong with martinis, how they robbed of any coherence the beautifully educated minds of his colleagues at the university, standing as if hit by a hammer, unable to talk, or even further stunned, after a second martini, incapable of tasting the wonderful food he had prepared. 

Still in the small talk phase, we'd chat a bit about his garden and how much it supplied his table and, of course, about this year's wine and what would distinguish it in a year or two.  He'd tell us how he'd get grapes from his California friend Robert Mondavi before many wine grapes were growing in the Northwest.

We'd talk about "The Scamp," what he called his son-in-law, Thomas J.  Owens, one of the great lobbyists in Olympia who loved food and drink and literature and the law and the crazy quilt of talent and neediness that made up the elected legislators of the state of Washington.  It was Owens who made a great contribution to the state when he helped break the protective tariff on out-of-state wines, an accomplishment that led to the development of Washington's wonderful wine industry. 

When State Senator Gordon Walgren of Bremerton finally ascended to Majority Leader in 1976, Tom knew he was a cook, (foodie wasn't used then) because they'd cooked together at Tom's little place in Olympia he rented every session.  So Tom collected a few of Walgren's recipes and made a kind of book of them called "The Majority Leader's Cookbook."   Tom had just the right idea for who would write the introduction, the famous professor, Angelo Pellegrini!  Tom was a hell of a lobbyist.


Pellegrini in about 1965
University of Washington Collection
As America began to lead the fast food world, Pellegrini was becoming the spokesman for slower foods, terrific local ingredients, cooked or processed where you lived, in the right way, simple and clean.  In 1946, he wrote a recipe for Sunset Magazine that was the first recipe for pesto published in the United States.  Years later it caught the eye of a young Ruth Reichl, for many years editor of Gourmet magazine, thumbing through old magazines while a young woman in Berkeley.  "Who is this guy?" Reichl thought.  At the time, basil was almost unknown in the US.  She found his book, Pellegrini's 1948 book "An Unprejudiced Palette," in the library.  It was so affecting to her, making the good and ethical life built around food, the life she craved so much, seem within reach.  It was also affecting to Alice Waters, MFK Fisher and many others who had specific ideas about the meaning of food.  Reichl re-published it a few years ago with a forward by Mario Batali.  Batali is a Northwest kid who grew up in Seattle and Yakima while his dad, Armandino, second generation Italian, worked for Boeing and founded the amazing Salumi's in Seattle.

Many of Pellegrini's other books -- "Wine and the Good Life," "A Food Lover's Garden," "Lean Years, Happy Years," expand with greater depth on the idea of a life well-lived that so resonated to later generations after 1948.

Canwell Holding Card
University of Washington
While that year made Pellegrini in the food world, it nearly took him down in the political and academic spheres.  Senator Albert Canwell, a state legislator from Spokane, began investigating what he believed to be a hornets' nest of communism at the University of Washington.  He and his staff began assembling note cards detailing names and relationships of UW staff who belonged to the party or were sympathetic to communism.  While not illegal, many people ran for state legislative and other positions as communists, Canwell believed it should be illegal and was not in the interests of a great university.

Canwell's investigations produced subpoenas to eleven professors, Pellegrini among them.  In the Summer of 1948, in a room in what is now the Seattle Center House, Pellegrini, among others, testified and were questioned by the Canwell Committee.  Pellegrini said he went to some meetings in 1935, he was then 31, and attended meetings infrequently for a year.  His principal memory was a book he reviewed that others thought was not communistic enough.  Pellegrini said that he had enough of their zealotry and stopped going to meetings after a year.

While it was old news to him, it was a challenging time.  Pellegrini was among the most popular professors at the university and his photo in front of the committee was on the front page of the Seattle Times.  He said he could remember the names of just two professors, both long dead in 1948, and no other names.

The committee wanted more names, something he found repugnant, but he said he could remember no others.  Ominously, Canwell insisted that Pellegrini remain under subpoena, the better to jog his memory, but the very next day, a handful of lives in tatters, the committee disbanded and the subpoena disappeared.

Dinner over, Pellegrini would happily put aside those mean days and sit with cognac and turn the conversation to better things -- how to find a morel hiding under the forest duff, the techniques he found best for keeping the fruit forward when making wine, how best to compliment the winemaker for a fine bottle.

"Don't smack your lips and wave your arms!  Look them square in the eye, offer a big smile and give them a wink!"

KUOW interview with Pellegrini's grandson, Brent