Just a little video of me out and about doing my research. This past weekend I was tucked away at the cushy Serenata Guest House in Canada’s wine country (yes, we do have one, and stop laughing) teaching social media at EatDrinkTweet, a conference for wine pros and foodies, one of whom felt it his patriotic duty to buy me dinner, and who was I to argue? I like to encourage the spirit of hospitality as a matter of principle, as do all right-thinking people. Each evening, in fact, I encouraged it to the hilt, and was rewarded with some very painful mornings in consequence.

Thank god for the Cannery Brewing No Jail Pale Ale is all I can say; concocted in response to British Columbia’s draconian new laws, it’s a high-quality, low-alcohol craft option for people who like their beer hoppish rather than hoppy and medium-bodied. Some thoughtful elf had tucked a bottle into my swag bag, and god bless them for it. 3% alcohol makes a very satisfying hair of the dog pre-lunch. Sadly, the Powers That Be decided that this perfectly pleasant pale had to change its charming name, as “No jail” was “an implied warranty against arrest” or, like, whatever, so now it’s called No Justice Pale Ale.

No Jail Pale Ale

A reminder, from the Beer Geek blog:

1.  Yellowtail wine is NOT actually made with any marsupials- specifically, not one Yellowtail kangaroo goes in to the vat.

2.  Baby Canadian champagne is not actually made by, nor does it contain any babies (Canadian or imported).  Actually, it’s not even champagne.

3.  Dr. Pepper is not a real doctor.

4.  Ranch dressing comes from a dressing factory, not a ranch.

Oh, NOW you tell me!

He's a handsy little fellas

We’re all familiar with the tradition of leaving out cookies for Santa on Christmas Eve. Some smart households even supplement the offering with a glass of milk or eggnog, in the general interest of keeping the stealthy old bugger away from the liquor cabinet. But does anyone know why it’s cookies we offer instead of, say, aspic molds or cupcakes or platypus turnovers?

I do, and I’m here to tell you the secret.

Santa is a ninja.

No, wait, this makes total sense: Santa is a ninja, and he does not in fact eat all those cookies; goodness no! Imagine the calories in all those carb-laden treats! What Santa does is, he uses his magical powers, which already allow him to visit billions of homes leaving presents at each in a single night, to turn regular cookies into ninja cookies.

Stick with me here.

Before:

Christmas Gingerbread Men and Women, BEFORE

After:

Ninjabread Men: this is what happens when Santa gets his mitts on regular cookies

See how that works? And here’s a lovely Spode tidbit tray of Ninjabread Men, just exactly as you see them in the morning:

THIS.

The Bosch IXO Vino Cordless Lithium-Ion Screwdriver with Corkscrew Attachment. Have you ever lived through the very special Hell of having been stuck house-sitting in the house of talented and prolific winemakers? Talented and prolific winemakers, I should add, whose house has a fully stocked cellar, a hot tub, wraparound views, a fridge specially stocked with treats chosen just for you, and a fireplace?

And, apparently, not. one. freaking. corkscrew.

I tried the shoe-banging method. I tried the push-the-cork-down method. I finally tried the put a long screw in the cork and pull it out with pliers method. But this handly little gadget would have saved me a great deal of stress as well as looking innocuous and coming in handy every time I buy something from Ikea.

The Shoe-Banging Method, for those of you who are unfamiliar with it because you are not French and Desperate:

For those who didn’t grow up in the Carolinas, I’d like to introduce you to two sweet southern delicacies -

The first you’ve probably seen around, as in the last ten years, this fine, fragile flower of southern femininity blossomed from a small town girl, born and bred in Winston Salem, North Carolina, to a true big city gal.

photo, Scott Ableman

I’m talking, of course, about Miss Krispy Kreme.

You may not, however, have met this fella -

photo, r_bowley

Cheerwine, an obscenely saccharine, cherry flavored soda, from Salisbury, NC.

In a match made in Dixie heaven, the two paired for a limited run and have been gettin’ on like a house afire, selling out around the Carolinas.

photo, John Rottet, News & Observer

Classic glazed KKs, filled with Cheerwine cream and topped with chocolate frosting and sprinkles. Mmmm mmmm.

Well folks, there’s only one week left to sample the product of this sweet, sweet marriage. So get those big wheels a turnin’ and head down to the southland.

While walking in Midtown Manhattan yesterday, I stumbled upon this…

A behemoth M&M, plopped down in the middle of Herald Square to promote the new pretzel M&Ms that are slowly making their presence felt on bodega shelves and check out lines around the country. With what is apparently the most ambitious launch of an M&M product in a decade, parent company Mars is hoping the crunchy little devils will be big. Way bigger than even the bright orange monstrosity parked on 34th and 6th Wednesday morning. Perhaps even bigger than the American Idol concert that I learned was part of the festivities  (you didn’t think the cops would block off traffic just for a float sized candy coated chocolate did you? Okay, I did for a moment. It was after all, very large.)

Sadly, I couldn’t stick around for the show, but it left quite an impression, so on my way home this evening I picked up these…

I am perhaps the target audience for these new candy covered buddies. In fact, it is within the realm of possibility that some observant Mars executive actually developed the idea for the confection while watching me partake in one of my favorite snacks — a couple of Rold Gold pretzel sticks and a couple of plain M&Ms, all popped into the mouth at once, therein creating a perfect harmony of salty and sweet, crunchy and smooth. I will continue to await my royalty check.

I do love pretzels with or without chocolate. In fact, I have a lot in common with the concerned looking M&M whose mug appears on the wrapper of this new edition…

On any given day, a doctor doing an x-ray of my belly would find that, I too, have a pretzel inside me (and probably some M&Ms as well.)

These new pretzel M&Ms are bigger than both plain and peanut, and as such a disappointingly low number come in each bag (which in part explains why the packet’s contents contain only 150 calories.)

Aside from the quantity problem that results from the larger size, the girth of the candies allows them to pack the necessary pretzely-punch. They have just the right balance of sweet, chocolate, and salt.

Looks like a malted milk ball but without the cloying sweetness. A very delicious dessert indeed. I am going to go have another right now. My insides are calling out for that sweet salty pretzel love.