The Libertine of Judge's Hill

Brains. Yes ladies and gentlemen, The Libertine has added that to the extensive catalogue of items he’s consumed. Lamb brains, to be exact. And let me tell you, they were spectacular. Reminiscent of both sweetbreads and scallops or fried oysters, but infinitely tender, not the least bit slimy or tough. Rich beyond belief, but not heavy.

This particular meal was served with macaroni gratin and bookended by a starter of escargot with mushrooms and thick pork sausage stewed in a rich bourgogne red wine sauce and ended with fromage blanc aux lyonnaise, a sort of sour cream and chive dip to conquer all others. The vat of fried pork skins as tableside munchies was a new experience as well.

This was but one of several meals had in Lyon, the gastronomic capital of France. Having collected The Magistrate from Geneva, the decision was made to escape the confines of the swiss franc most rapidly. Lyon had never stood out in my mind as somewhere I really needed to go. I imagined it as a medium sized, slightly dirty industrial city, but I relented and we were off.

I hope the city forgives me my ignorance as I extol their virtues here.

To start, the city is beautiful. Clean, large, not terribly difficult to navigate, filling a valley occupied by the Rhone and Saone rivers, with mountains on some sides an Mont Blanc visible in the distance on clear days. Lyon also possesses easily the fastest, most efficient, most enjoyable public transportation system The Libertine has encountered anywhere in his travels. Every person of authority involved in transportation the world over should come to Lyon and just ride the metro and the trams for an afternoon.

But enough of that. Efficiency is only appreciated by The Libertine because it delivers us to our next visceral indulgence more rapidly.
That particular one would be dinner at Leon de Lyon, a former Michelin starred restaurant who gave it back to relieve some pressure. Repackaged as a traditional brasserie and located in a small alley, it was exactly the French meal needed on that rainy evening. Stewed lamb shank with perfectly finished risotto and asparagus. Hearty and rich, but not overpowering, with a staff that went out of their way to help The Libertine and The Magistrate with problems unrelated to our dining experience.

The township is young and vibrant, fun, not too expensive, beautiful, and loaded with food beyond your imagination. The Libertine will most certainly be making a return trip, hopefully for an extended time.
After 2 nights in Lyon, we continued on to Beaune, in Burgundy. After a day spent partially laughing at The Libertines hilarious lack of basic childhood skills, dinner arrived and we settled into Restaurant les Vignes Rouge.
To start, I had escargot in a light cream sauce with chantrelles while my companion dined upon eggs poached in Bourgogne wine sauce with pearl onions. The snails were perfectly cooked, fully purged, and the sauce was shockingly weightless and delicious. The eggs were, without question, the best poaching we’ve ever encountered and the sauce rich and complimentary.

Next was an amuse bouche consisting of poire williams eau de vie sorbet, more fragrant and balanced than any sorbet this gentleman can remember.

For a main course, The Magistrate ordered the classic Coq au Vin, which… was classic. Everything that dish should. I ordered a ribeye with sauce d’eppoisses(my favorite cheese.) It came slightly tough, but perfectly cooked and the sauce was divine.

We finished with a trio of desserts. A perfectly cooked anise scented creme brûlée, fresh local pears poached in Pinot noir, and a caramel fig ice cream, all served upon individual slate trays(added to the list of things needed for JHACASS HQ.)

Eastern France has charmed us in exactly the way we had hoped. Now we are off to Paris. We’ll see what sort of hedonistic darkness we can bring to the “City of Light.”
Au revoir my friends, and I suppose I shall see you all soon in the great nation of Texas.

The Libertine takes great strides to remain objective, to bring you, my patrons, the truest, purest, most honest interpretation of the things I experience. When quality is spoken of, it is true quality in the eyes of someone who, with no small bit of confidence will say, has more experience than most, and persues that respectability of experience with unrestrained enthusiasm. Thr Libertine strives to remove personal tastes and leave pure, objective judgement so as to better serve you.
But not this time.
Not now.
Yes, if The Libertine tried his best, it’s possible to objectively judge some of what is to come. It’s also possible to claw your own eyes out or castrate yourself and sous vide the remains, but why would you want to?
The words “I love” may likely never issue forth from the font of The Libertine again.
But here it is.

I love Chartreuse.

Love in the deep way you love your family or your lover. Not like a dog or favorite pair of jeans. Nor like a truly exceptional steak or your lifelong favorite team winning whichever global championship is most important. As much love as you can have for an inanimate object without approaching weird shit like the guy from Nip/Tuck.
We were met the morning after our arrival in Voiron by Florence, a beguiling young lady who works PR for Chartreuse. The days events began with some brief history of the area as we made our way up into the Chartreuse mountains(yes, even the mountains are named after the product.) eventually we arrived at the Chartreuse museum and monastery. The museum is stark and clean, and in the middle of a remodel, but still informative and interesting. We were fortunate that when we arrived, the director happened to be making an inspection if the remodel, and so we were afforded the chance to meet not only him, but one of the head fathers of the order.

After making our way around the museum(exhibits will be amazing once they’re open to the public) we made the 2 km trek by foot up the mountain to the actual monastery.
Now what I had not realized before is that this is THE monastery. The one from which all others in the world have spawned. The one that heads of the order gather at every 2 years in order to elect their leader.
No wonder they make the elixir of long life.

That phrase came up over and over whilst there. This is what the original manuscript(of unknown origin) that was given to the monks of the Vauvert pharmacy in 1605 described. All the variants of chartreuse currently produced are all based off different interpretations of this manuscript, the secrets of which lie in the knowledge of 2 monks at the distillery as well as a few predecessors(not the least of being the only completely natural green coloring in the world.)
After departing the monastery, Florence treated us to a lunch of fondue, salad, and cured meats. Never a better fondue was had by The Libertine before.

Now, Chartreuse is not produced at the monastery. True, the original secrets were uncovered there, but it has been some time since it was produced there. From 1860-1903 and again from 1929-1935 it was produced at what is known as the Fourvoiry distillery, located a bit down the hill from the monastery, and slightly above Voiron and the present distillery. In those middle years, for some of which the order was exiled from France, Chartreuse was mostly produced at a distillery in Tarragone, Spain. A landslide destroyed the Fourvoiry distillery eventually, at which point production was moved to it’s current location in Voiron.
Generally speaking, the Fourvoiry distillery is strictly off limits, even to Chartreuse staff, but… Well, what kind of libertine would pay attention to those rules? This venue for The Libertines writing exists mostly to inform and let others experience, so seeing as how no one else in the world has these pictures, I offer my best.

Having thoroughly exhausted ourselves and examined the area, we proceeded on to the distillery.
Overall, the distillery and bottling line are quite like many others. Other than the fact that the blending, maceration, and fermentation take place in a room only accessible to the 2 monks. Also, they have recently installed some new computer controlled stills so that the monks can spend more time at the monastery and not have to come into town as often. Yes, that’s right, there’s monks telecommuting to control the distillation of chartreuse.

The really impressive part is the cellar. At 164 meters in length, it’s the longest liqueur cellar in the world, holding over 2 million liters in slovenian and russian oak casks, most of which are over 100 years old.

Upon leaving the cellars, we passed through a quick exposition highlighting some of the things we’d learned and experienced that day. We then hastily proceeded to the tasting room and gift shop.
*Note: seeing as it’s 2 am and I’ve had a long day and have another tomorrow, tasting and production information will be added at a later date.

Phillipe and Florence, who I cannot thank enough for one of the most incredible days ever.

In the past I have referred to the city of Milan in a less than positive light. In fact, I had stated on more than one occasion that I quite actively disliked the city. It seemed dirty and cold, industrial and stark, full of people far more involved in themselves than any worldly endeavor.
For this, I apologize.
We all know the lengths to which The Libertine goes to to make sure the opinions expressed here are fair and balanced, and I don’t mean in the fox news sense.

Milan is amazing.

To the point that The Libertine would move there on a moments notice, should the chance present itself.

Now this style capitol is most certainly not for everyone. It’s a stretch to even imagine The Libertine would have a difficult time surviving short of a six digit income, and he’s quite adaptable. The outskirts are dirty and industrial, it has none of the old world charm of Rome or Florence. The general public is friendly, but somewhat less accepting of foreigners than other cities.
The city is insanely stylish, but surprisingly unpretentious(you’re in Milan, you don’t need to try.) It makes me think of the line about phonies from Breakfast At Tiffany’s.
Perfect.
The Libertine hates the idea of tourists. He strives in all aspects to blend in, and apologizes when he can’t. The fact that the city has not commercially(and often cheaply) embraced tourism as it seems so many of the other large European cities have is refreshing and inviting to my mindset.
Additionally, their idea of happy hour is other worldly.The whole city shuts down between 4 and 6 while people go home and nap and change and then happy hour is between 6 and 8. At most of the bars in the city outside of the tourist areas, you buy 1 drink for 5-8 euros and they lay out all you can eat platters and platters and platters of fresh, free, authentic Italian food. It’s the greatest thing in history. And the Milanese do it EVERY DAY.
Special thanks must be given to Ms. Jane Nickey, The Libertines most gracious host, as well as Ms. Nancy Hatten, our means of introduction.

After departing the fabled Tuscan countryside, The Libertine and his companion travelled north, eventually being cast upon the shores of Corniglia, the middle child of Cinque Terre, with all the accompanying quirks and complexes. After filling our bellies with pasta and pesto(it originates here after all) we set about finding suitable lodgings.

Eventually using a mix of Spanish, Italian, English, pointing, numbers, and sheer luck, we secured 2 nights at an ocean view apartment for likely half what a hotel would cost. After a quick exploration of the area and making the accquaintance of Mario, our local entoca proprietor, we retired.

The next day began with breakfast and then off to Monterosso to start the trek between villages. Unfortunately, much of the trail was closed to due to a landslide, but the space between Monterosso and Vernazza was nonetheless breathtaking.

Upon returning, we decided to take advantage of our abode and make dinner ourselves. Pesto, fettucine, pork, roasted peppers, and a bottle of wine and we were set.

Post dinner, we set out with a bottle and a half of limoncino(the local superior alternative to limoncello) and a magnum or red wine. We encountered a group of Eurocopter interns and exchange students that we got on fabulously with. Or at least that’s what The Libertine has been told. Best not to dwell on these things.

Our last full day in Arezzo was not actually spent in Arezzo, but rather in Montalcino, visiting the esteemed Brunello producer Fanti (not to be confused with villa le fonti, where The Libertine and entourage were staying.)
The Libertine is, by any measure, a fan of the English language, in no small part because of it’s complexity and plethora of synonyms and connotations. But let me say, there does not exist enough descriptive terms to properly convey the wonder, beauty, quality, and excellence to be found among the people and wines of Fanti.
DOCG Brunello producers at heart, Fanti also releases a DOC white called Sant’Antimo after the church on the property, an IGT Sangiovese rose, and a DOC Rosso di Montalcino using a blend of Sangiovese and other red grapes. They also produce grappa in house, as well as some of the most mind bogglingly outstanding, epiphany inducing DOC Vin Santo ever to be had. There’s also a seperate surprise wine to be had later.
Upon first inspection, the winery appears small and, while not lacking anything, not quite state of the art.

However, upon closer examination…
Those are completely custom fermentation tanks designed as a collaboration between Mr. Fanti and a leading Tuscan oenologist. Their design is now in use across the region thanks to it’s superior technology. Computer controlled fermentation tanks, precisely managed barrel inventory, state of the art, partially subterranean facilities. Forgo your previous judgements and believe that THIS is the way you make wine.
After the tour, it was decided tasting must commence post hast. Our gracious hosts had laid a spread worthy of royalty.

Pasta, grilled vegetables, and a veritable cornucopia of grilled tuscan meats. All, of course, paired with wines.
The white was crisp, refreshing, and deceivingly potent(almost 14%), a blend of 30% Trebbiano and another indigenous grape not commonly found.

The rose was fruity and spicy, but obviously from the grapes, not the soil as is the case with so many Rhone roses The Libertine enjoys. The Rosso di Montalcino was supremely drinkable, a suitable companion to the aforementioned pasta.

We sampled 2 different vintages of the Brunello, 2004 and 2006, with the 2006 actually be the favorite among most of the table. But it was the secret, unreleased unmarked bottle that blew everyone away.
Standard DOCG Brunello di Montalcino must be bottled at ABV 15% or less. The bottle presented before us is the unreleased 2007 Brunello… At ABV 16.7%.
It wasn’t hot or overbearing in the least. Clean, rich, full, packed with spice box flavors and shockingly well developed tannins for a 2007. Supposedly there are plans to release just as is and called something other than Brunello. If so, it shall be high on The Libertines wish list.

Even after all this, the true proof of the wineries mettle was still to come.
The as yet unreleased 2006 Vin Santo.

I am undone. At a complete loss for words. There are precious few times in my life when the walls close in, nothing else matters, and the whole concept of how I think about visceral experience changes.
This is one of those moments.

For prudences sake, we also examined the 2005 as well as the house Grappa di Brunello. While both excellent, and standouts in their respective categories, after the previous experience, most of life’s experiences paled in comparison.

Although, when one of the gentlemen at our lunch turned out to be the head of the balsamic advisory board(the board is only 3 guys. This man succeeded Pavorati) and he just happened to have a small bottle of 30 y.o. with him, that was pretty close.

After all was said and done, our appetites for food, wine, and knowledge all sated, it was, in the end, a day of days, even by the standards of The Libertine.

While not within the vein of The Libertines usual musings, those personally acquainted with him will understand the importance of this post. It is also my belief that if you examine The Libertines personal and public philosophies, interest in and love for these insanely irresponsible and indulgent machines is perfectly in line with both. So please forgive this short detour while The Libertine indulges his prurient automotive interests.

250 Superamerica

365 GTC Challenge

Seen ferris bueller?

The SA Aperto. Designed to celebrate Pinninfarinas collaboration with Ferrari. One of 80 made. No, that’s not a typo.

And, of course…

The F40. The purest, cleanest, most honest form of sports car ever created. No ABS, no traction control, no flappy paddles, no AC, not even carpets. Just an aluminum and carbon fiber tub fitted to a twin turbo V8 with staggering compression.
It’s the negroni.
The Islay single malt.
The dry aged porterhouse.
Simple.
Uncluttered.
Uncomplicated.
Perfect.

This is not “paprika.” Nor “roasted red pepper.”
I’m 100% sure its repackaged bar b q.

I was hoping for cool foreign flavors like this.

http://m.neatorama.com/2008/12/06/strange-kit-kat-flavors/

Greetings fellow gastronauts. I should hope that this posting finds you irresponsibly overserved, and if not, I’d recommend you remedy that problem post haste. I find myself quite definitely filled to the point of lethargy. Wednesday we embarked upon our venture to Vignamaggio. Stefano and his associates Ricardo and Giorgio arranged for us to visit the villa in Chianti Classico, just outside of Grebe in Chianti.
Originally constructed as an apology from a wealthy merchant to his wife for unfaithfulness, the villa is of a classical beauty remarkable even for Tuscany. Most interestingly, the gentleman also had a daughter
Named Mona.
… Mona Lisa.
Yes indeed, she was a real person. Theories abound that perhaps the portrait is many people, even Leonardo himself, but unquestionably, it was named after a real person, and Vignamaggio was her home.

Production does not vary dramatically from any other Chianti Classico in the area, but for those unfamiliar, I have provided images of the cellars and production units.

A fanciful device conceived by Leonardo in order to keep wine barrels topped off and unoxidized.

After touring the grounds, including the areas used in the filming of a certain Shakespere movie, we sat down for a meal with pairings from our hosts catalogue.
Vignamaggio produces 5 wines we sampled.
Chianti Classico
Chiant Classico select
Chianti Classico reserva
“Obsession” IGT super Tuscan(so called because the owner of the villa, an international trade lawyer in Rome, has a particular client with the familiar initials CK, and this blend happens to be his favorite.)
Vin Santo del Chianti Classico
After tasting through the thoroughly impressive main portfolio, a special blend was brought out. Our host, Ricardo, just so happened to be turning 50 the next morrow, so in celebration of his half century, an offering of a magnum of 1997 Obsession was made. It did the trick, and then perhaps a bit more.

We departed shortly after, allowing another long, winding, and painfully beautiful drive through Chianti, though with a stop in Grebe for una caffe and to view one of the more spectacular butchers in existence.

Being filled with chianti, vin santo, prosciutto, and a ramshackle bolognese thrown together with available ingredients by myself and the countess Susan, the time to retire arrived.
I suggest you Ponder the tenants of near reckless indulgence, and do the same. The Libertine and his Heritage boots wish you as much luck with your travels as we’ve had. Salute!

The way in which this exquisite venture to the old world came about is thanks to our dear friends Rick and Susan and their good friend Stefano, proprieter of Enoteca Charleston. You shall see all the trio in some of the images posted, but some of the things in Stefano’s cellar deserve their own space I believe. Here The Libertine has selected some images of interest purely to showcase the finery and variety of rarified objects available in this setting.

Gaja from The Libertines birth year.

This would be one of the few dozen bottles of Sassicaia that went to space and back. Yes, you read that correctly.

Armagnac from the birth year of The Libertines father.

My dear patrons, This trip is quite something else. After making our roost in Villa le Fonti, it was time to explore the village and acquaint ourselves with the surroundings. Fortunately, the first weekend of the month is market days here. Aged old men, doting women, and slick merchants and collectors swarm the streets selling antiques, collectibles, wares, crafts, and treasures, along with sundry and assorted minutiae best described as “complete crap.”.
Arezzo is a charming colony, best known as the hometown of “Guido.” I’m sure many will be startled to learn that before it was a term used to indicate orange hued sacks of vacuous human waste, Guido was the man responsible for creating musical notation. If not for him, so many of our great memories would have soundtracks impossible to recall.
We find walking the streets of Arezzo to be both calming and exciting. The shops open up and you fund things scattered and humble that most Americans barely understand, and those that do, hold sacred(yours truly included.)

After much adventuring, we returned to the estate with new found prizes in hand. The following days are a slight blur of hedonistic indulgence and gastronomic orgy, highlighted by watching the 78 year old father of one of our hosts hand carve an entire prosciutto leg in a matter of minutes.

Until the next time and the story of the negroni, salute!