Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill

I don't remember specifically where I've come across references to Boone's Farm, only that it's almost always mentioned with an amusing blend of nostalgia and mock contrition. Long Island, where I grew up, didn't have Boone's Farm, and so my curiosity about it was really strong. There are many flavors in the Boone's Farm family of wines, but the one with the most dedicated fans seems to be Strawberry Hill. There's even a dessert recipe for it. Fascinated, I had to learn more...

Priced at less than $3.00, Boone's Farm falls into a cheap liquor category often referred to as bum wines or bum liquors. Google 'bum wines' and you will find yourself at the threshold of a carnival of brazenly artificial alcoholic beverages that is a marvel to behold. Think Fla-Vor-Ice bars spiked with varying levels of alcohol content. In the context of the cheap wine world, Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill stands out as the fairy princess of the bunch. Its faint pink blush and white label called to my inner girlishness like an Easy Bake Oven. After some online searches, a visit to Trader Joe's and Astor Wines, it was apparent that this wine is not available in Manhattan. Inquiries at wine stores in Park Slope drew baffled smiles but no bottles of the precious strawberry-flavored fluid. So I ordered a bottle online and it arrived three days later.



The crisp, clean bottle arrived cold from the wintry weather—very convenient since I was dying to try it. A quick twist of the white aluminum cap and my curiosity was just a short tilt of an espresso cup from fulfillment. I drank in the chilled pink liquid and a pleasantly familiar candy flavor swelled inside my mouth. Not cotton candy, not lollipop...what was it? Aha! I thought. Watermelon Jolly Rancher! Yes, that was it!




More sipping. The vaguely berry but undeniably pink taste brought to mind the Barbie perfume maker my next door neighbor Helen had and how we'd spent an afternoon cranking these plastic wands filled with various colored fragrance concentrates that would transform tap water into colorful scented elixirs such as rose or strawberry. The more you cranked, the more turns of the wand, hence the darker the color and the stronger the perfume. Needless to say, we cranked those wands like mad alchemists—sampling, at times gasping at our Barbie creations as if we had just created Chanel No. 6 through 10.

How long my mind drifted back to recollections of immortal childhood memories, I don't know, but this stuff is delightful. No, it's not Chablis, but put me back in college with a bottle of this, a Justin Timberlake CD (???), and any one from my top 10 list of favorite guys at school, and years later, I'd probably perk up at the mention of Strawberry Boone's Farm with amused nostalgia and mock contrition, too. And that, to quote Martha Stewart, is a good thing!

The Deal Closer @ The Standard Grill

Square of Chocolate from the Standard Grill in NYC, under the High Line. This is not the dessert showcased in this blog post; I thought it best to leave that as a surprise.


At the Standard Grill, executive pastry chef, Frederick Aquino, has loosened chocolate cake's corset to create a fun and flirty chocolate burlesque called the Deal Closer. A king's portion of fluffy chocolate mousse covered with generous mounds of unsweetened whipped cream and sprinkled with thick chocolate shavings, arrives in a large glass kitchen bowl with two rubber spatulas. One taste and I said to myself about Chef Aquino, I like this man's joie de vivre!

First there's the eye-popping excitement of a big bowl of chocolate mousse. And spatulas, not spoons—what more do you need? Beyond the feast for the eyes, there's the titillating sensation of delving deep into a rugged heap of whipped cream followed next by billowy mousse, and then, fathoms below, a rich bed of chocolate cake. If you decide to tackle this mountain of mousse with a metal spoon, as I did, you can add to your sensory enjoyments, the muffled, hollow, tapping sound of the spoon hitting the bottom of the glass bowl somewhere beneath all that mousse.

As mentioned, the whipped cream is unsweetened, which is brilliant because given the portions too much sugar would really slow you down. The mousse is sufficiently chocolatey with little sprinkles of salt to keep things from getting monotonous. The chocolate cake is actually the most rewarding part of this whole extravaganza, it's like the rich soil you've been mining through all this mousse for.

Tacombi on Elizabeth Street

Food served from the tacomobile at Tacombi.

It was on a very cold night that I went into this exciting new Mexican eaterie, a beachside-themed taco place that embodies the spirit of a long hot summer, even in the dead of winter. Folding aluminum chairs, backyard lights strung across the walls, and, at the very heart of it all, a Volkswagon Kombi, out of which is served a daily menu of tostadas, tamales and tacos, create an appetizing ambience for sure. Inspired by the tasty and cheap street food of Mexico, Tacombi's offerings are appetizer-size and feature shredded meats and authentic-tasting moles and salsas.

Pollo con Mole taco, Tostada de Aguacate and a cold glass of horchata.


I so wanted to pig out at this place, but a couple of factors prevented this from happening. First, the food is tasty, but not mind-blowing. Also, $4 is a lot to pay for miniature portions. After four tacos, i.e. $16, I was still hungry.

That said, the vegetarian Maiz y Poblano tacos are extremely tasty and the Pollo con Mole is...interesting. That's obviously not the greatest of food accolades, but the chicken and brown sauce, while fresh and savory, didn't have that soul-embracing deliciousness that makes tacos and other street food so irresistably awesome. I also tried the Tostada de Aguacate—a crunchy corn tostada topped with mashed avocado, tomatillo and cilantro. I enjoyed it but had to roll my eyes at the reality of paying $4 for a glorified chip with guacamole.


Drink stand where homemade drinks, bottled sodas and tokens for tacos, tomales and tostadas are sold.



Maybe I'll have better luck with Tacombi's breakfast menu...next time.