Moonshine Revelations

 While navigating Hopper Creek in the   backwoods of Yountville, grappling over mosses, rocks and entwining  ivies and vines, I came upon something shiny buried in the mud. Thinking it was a bit of brown glass from an old Shlitz bottle, I almost passed it by, but something made me bend down to it, as it caught a small ray of sunlight in a comely golden fashion. Trying to pull it up, I soon unearthed the placid face of a straining Indian- then a rusted out and mildewed Pontiac sedan that had obviously been used to run moonshine from the hills to the city during prohibition. I knew this because inside the decaying chassis, still clutched by the skeletal hand of the speeding hooch runner was a large glass jug crudely marked with the name “Hattie’s Old Crow Hooch”. After several minutes of detatching the jug from the bony hand and from a clutser of shimmering purple mushrooms that were growing both around and inside the lip of the jug, I immediately drank half its contents without any thought. From here my memory gets very cloudy, but of one thing I am clear. The Indian spoke to me, revealing exactly 29 and a half aphorisms, in a creaky voice somewhere between Tommy lee Jones and and the old heater that was in my college dorm room. I can also say that these seem all true, though some are strangely syntaxed. Thanks to the Great Spirits, and I will be sharing them with you soon.
The hooch tasted of liquified Ben-Gay and old Gefilte Fish. Fernet basically. Perhaps you will doubt that the Indian spoke to me, but truth is truth, no? (As for the last half of the Hooch, I gave to Thomas Keller who who put on digestif menu of French Laundry, 500.00$ for a thimblefull)- Zamboni
Advertisements

Total Polenta Heaven

Many readers have asked me, “great zamboni, is there anything greater than love?” or “great zamboni, what is better than sex?” or some form of this question whatsoever. This is a difficult one, even for someone so fatuous and sagacious as the one I am, great zamboni. Though of course sex and love are two very different things, the way that a bloodthirsty jaguar and a cuddly little kitten named jinx are two different balls of wax, I can say with certainty that there is something better than both combined. This dish.

I have this today in the fog of napa valley, as great zamboni is consultant wine taster for many blenders of the grape. It was so good I ordered a second for dessert, and then a third to rub all over my ears. I hope you find your way to Hopper Creek and enjoy for yourself.