Tokyo Blond Is Not Porn

Tokyo Blond is not a porn blog, about hair or even, as one pithy friend remarked, a micro beer or late 1980s glam metal band ("Dude, I just saw Skid Row and Tokyo Blond opened and played a killer set").


The purpose of this blog is to chronicle my experiences in Tokyo - poignantly, visually, irreverently - for fun.


Anybody can tag along...that is if I like you. This blog will endeavor to be entertaining and honest and frequent enough to keep those following interested including me.


Thursday, January 19, 2012

Hunting for Roos and Wine

"Let me get this straight," I said, barely containing my disdain for the imperious Thrifty rental car attendant.

Russell was sympathetic with her.  He said it wasn't her fault she was working with idiots.  Did he mean me?  We had only been waiting in line for 45 minutes, and there had only been one person in front of us.  I thought she was a first class b&^%*.

"You would rather have a person who has never driven on the opposite side of the road in your rental car (me), than a person who has a Japanese drivers license (Russell) - where they drive on the same side of the road as Australia?"  "I can't read his Japanese license and the piece of paper he printed out confirming he renewed his U.S. license on-line is not sufficient.  I can't rent him a car, " she retorted smugly.

Right, I thought, and what does she do when a Japanese tourist shows up to rent a car? I suppose she turns him down too.  Doubtful.  Nowhere on the website did it say they don't accept Japanese driver's licenses.  I felt like we were being taken advantage of as we payed an additional $130 dollars for full insurance coverage since I would be the one driving.  I made a mental note to write a letter to Thrifty.  I hoped this wasn't a precursor to what this vacation would be like.

Thankfully it wasn't.  For the next two hours I white knuckled it behind the wheel on our way to the Hunter Valley, gripping the steering wheel so tightly my pinkies were numb.   Russell had been sworn to remain stoically mute after a hitting-the-curb incident and his panicked, heart attack inducing scream.  "Is screaming really necessary - it's only a curb."   This is why I never drive with him in the car.  Needless to say, there were no further incidents or outbursts after that, from him or me.

Well, except for almost hitting a kangaroo.  This had nothing to do with my driving.  The damn thing literally hopped within three feet of my bumper. If I hadn't been paying as close attention as I was, like a dog lusting after a bone, I would have hit it.  Kangaroos are HUGE!  I had no idea how big they are.  And they kind of move in slow motion.  Each hop seems to cover a couple yards.  I sat there, mouth gaping, as it nonchalantly hopped twice and was across the road and over the barbed wire fence as easily as stifling a yawn.  "Did you see that!  Did you see that!?,"  I exclaimed excitedly.   "Did you get a picture?"  Of course not,  he was too busy prying his fingers off the dash.

This sign does not adequately prepare you for actually seeing them.
Especially when you have to avoid one.

A couple of minutes later we checked into our accommodations at Spicer's Vineyard Resort.   A dozen or so cockatoos, aka the welcoming party, bickered amicably in the tree guarding the circular drive.


Check out these tourists.  Fresh meat.

The property was nice; the location even better.  It was in the middle of what I like to call, "Rooville."  There were kangaroos every where.  Unfortunately, they always seemed to be just shy of my camera's zoom range.  UGH.  I need a real camera.

Spicer's Vineyard

And these are a bunch of kangaroos.
 This was taken with my highest zoom setting.

We put our luggage down, toured the property and got started right away, started on wine tasting, that is.  Our first stop was lunch at the Cracked Pepper restaurant. We began with a bottle of rose and shared some pretty spectacular fare.  I had the prawns, not shrimp.  That's what they call them in Australia.

Afterwards, we went to the De Iuliis winery.  It wasn't on my carefully cultivated list of must tastes, but it was conveniently located next door, within walking distance.  After a few sips we realized we needed to adjust our expectations and palate.  While we were used to big, buttery, cop-a-feel whites, the Hunter Valley is known for its Semillons, which are basically Sauvignon Blancs.  I'd describe them as being like your little sister: really, really cute but not quite grown up yet.  But the thing is, sometimes you'd rather spend time with the innocent little sister instead of her mouthy, know-it-all sibling.

Russell trying to determine which bottle to buy
since he can only take home twelve bottles 
from the Hunter Valley.

That night we left for dinner early so we could hunt for kangaroos.  We saw several, but again, just out of the grasp of my oh-so-ineffectual camera.  I took shots anyway.

Dinner was at Robert's and it was really good.  Bread was back.  In America, most restaurants serve bread with the meal, like chips at a Mexican restaurant.  Not so in Japan.  You seldom see bread.  But in Australia they do and it's really, really good.  The bread at Robert's was house-made sourdough, sliced thick and then toasted and brought to your table hot with sea salt nuggets and locally churned butter.  "Um, I might have only bread and wine for dinner."

These three doves were waiting for us when we arrived in the Robert's parking lot.
I took it as a good omen.  Or they were waiting around for the next wedding.

The Robert's dining room might be charmingly rustic 
but the food is unapologetically gourmet.

We also noticed that portions were back.  That is, American size portions, which create American size asses.  So we decided to make a pact and share as opposed to getting our own.  That way we could try and stave off unwanted vaca pounds.  After the warm bread, we shared some oysters, then house-made country pate, followed by stuffed squash blossoms, and finally, even though we were full, we went all in, and shared the venison.  Wow!  We were just beginning to realize that maybe it's not that the food in Tokyo is so good; maybe it's just that the food in America is so bad.  Hmmm.  Food for thought.

We also realized we had eaten too much.  We decided to go running the next day.  We always start out running together.  But since I run every other day and he only runs when coerced or on vacation, he generally slows to a walk after about 15 minutes, while I keep on, keeping on.

Russell's idea of running.
It looks suspiciously like he's checking email.
But the flowers are pretty.

On that first run I discovered this vineyard called Wombat Crossing.  What the heck is a Wombat? Is it a real animal?  I had to know.  The front desk confirmed that Wombats are indeed real and that a few do live around here.  I went online later and discovered they're the closest relation to the koala and they have poop the shape of squares.  Hey, wait a minute.  Why I saw some square poop yesterday when we walked around the property.  Now I really wanted to see a Wombat.

I wonder if Wombats are as irascible as the owner of this winery.

Breakfast, which came with our room package, was a delight.  The key was getting to the dining room before they stopped serving at 10am.  Each day they served a frothy breakfast drink, fresh fruit, a basket of house-made bread and danishes, in addition to quiche.  Yes quiche.  It was awesome.

I could get used to this.

Here's to another day of wine drinking.

After each breakfast I would go visit the pigs. No, I'm not trying to be funny.  Next to the restaurant garden there was a pen with three pigs.  They were adorable. The big one's name was Salami.  I guess the chef thought that was funny.  I don't know what the little pigs' names were.  There was no sign for them - not a good sign.


Got slop?

The weather was sublime.  When we left Tokyo it was 41 degrees and scarves were required.  In the Hunter Valley it was a balmy 75.  It was Summer here.  Suddenly we felt like we were on vacation.

We hit four wineries the second day (Tower, Paul Sobel, Brokenwood and Mistletoe) and one craft market.  We were only planning to hit three, but Russell made me walk into the winery adjacent to the Craft Market.  The wine wasn't good, but the guy pouring the wine was great.  So funny.  He gave us several suggestions and made us laugh, a lot.

We had two "aha" moments at the Tower Winery.  First, they had a really yummy shiraz.  Now we're talking.  It was the best thing we'd tasted in the valley so far.  And they had a really shitty, and I mean shitty, sparkling Shiraz.  

We love sparkling shiraz.  Ever since we had Rockford Sparkling Shiraz we've been smitten and buy it whenever we can find it. Which is pretty much never in the States and out of the question in Tokyo. So of course we were on the hunt.  There was a sign. It said they were having a special.  Only $10 a bottle.  Today only.  When we inquired, the wine representative gave us a rueful smile and asked if we wanted a taste.  She explained how they had "found" one forgotten case of the stuff in the store room and that's why it was on special.  While we swirled it around in our glass relishing that first taste, she expounded, "You'll notice it's rather, um, dry."  I smelled it and was assaulted by the scent of chaps and hay.  It smelt like a barn.  It tasted even worse.  Ugh!  "It smells like a barn."   She came clean and concurred, "yeah it has that ridden hard, sweaty saddle smell."  

"Found" huh?  More like they were hoping it would get better with age.  We poured it into the spittoon. "Nope, still shitty."

We realized you should trust your own palate  - never someone else's opinion.

Tower
Stay away from the barn.

Then we went to Brokenwood and Russell had a hard time choosing just one bottle.  So we had to buy two.  We assured ourselves we'd be able to find room.  Their wines were lovely and the women (all women we noted - a first) were very friendly and sagacious. 

For lunch that day we ate at a gorgeous restaurant overlooking the valley called Esca at Bimbagden.  They had a helicopter and amazing food.  They also had the most astute idea for wine tasting.  On their extensive lunch menu they offer two wine tasting choices: one for white and one for red.  For example in the white tasting you get three glasses of white, which are paired with three sample size dishes.  Similarly on the red.  We ordered one of each and shared.  It was a great way to sample their wine and their food.  More wineries should do this.  It was brilliant.  Course it helps if the food and wine is good - which it was.

My ride...I wish

View from Esca at Bimbagden Winery

Last on the list that day was Mistletoe Wines.  Our wine server was quite a character.  He seemed to know everyone in the valley.  He was highly entertaining and knowledgeable.  We remarked on what a difference it makes to have a wine pourer who is so enthusiastic and experienced.  Very different from the winer pourers in most of the wine regions in California.  "Yeah, this one's white."

Mistletoe had an equally interesting sculpture garden but you're not allowed to take pictures of it.

We were however, allowed to take pictures of the entrance to the winery.

That night we ate at the Spicer's Restaurant Botanica.  Dinner was included in our package.  Compared to all the other meals we'd eaten it was mediocre.  It tasted like American food. We concluded the chef wasn't aggressive enough with salt.  I wouldn't go back, when there are so many other exalted choices.  

It didn't help that the woman next to us had so much perfume on, you could see it, like the movie the "Fog", mangling appetites as it obscured the room.  I've noticed some of the more high end gastronomic restaurants in Tokyo don't allow perfume, in addition to no smoking.  Smart.  I wish more restaurants would do that. Or maybe they should just start including directions with bottles of perfume.

And on the third day, we went to McWilliams.  First of all, it was on a side of the valley we hadn't visited yet.  This part of the valley was hilly and the views of the vineyards were expansive.  It was like discovering the St. Helena side of the Napa Valley for the first time.  The wine was great and so was our server.  He spent a lot of time with us, taking us through an animated tour of their vast wine sample menu.  He was funny and generous.  He had long, careless sandy hair and a face that boasted a life well lived.  He struck me as a retired surfer, who smoked pot, while sipping the best shiraz in the valley.  Turns out he used to be an accountant and wore a suit everyday.  Now he flies hot air balloons in the morning and pours wine the rest of the day. 

At first I thought he said "Cherry Wipe".  I knew I was buzzed but really?  "Cherry Wipe?", I asked dubiously.  He laughed indulgently.  "Nah, I said Cherry Ripe.  That's just my thick Aussie accent.  Cherry Ripe is my favorite candy bar - cherries coated with coconut and dark chocolate.  The wine you're about to taste reminds me of it. I love it."  We wrote it down and bought some later.

He also recommended, as he put it, the best restaurant in the valley.  It's called Bistro Molines.  The owner, Robert Moline, was the original "Robert" at "Robert's Restaurant" before he was jipped in a business deal.  We felt like insiders suddenly.  Remember Roberts; where we had eaten the first night.  Remember the toasted sour dough?   Yummy!

We called the Bistro but they said they were fully booked.  So Russell suggested we drive up to the restaurant anyway.  What did we have to lose?  Our new Cherry Ripe friend told us it was a beautiful drive anyway.  It's much harder for them to turn you away when you show up at their door.  

We showed up and after a few minutes, they made room for us and it was sublime.



Heaven found.

The drive is pretty.

Charming


Uh, yeah, this will work.

Amuse Bouche - a cheese croquet

I didn't care for the ice cream scoop presentation
but the creamy pate was heavenly.

I do love oysters.

A local.

The last winery of the day was Audrey Wilkinson which is one of the oldest.  We were pretty much toast by then but that didn't stop us from buying another bottle.

Audrey, in this case, is the name of a man BTW

Nice grounds

Our last night in the Hunter Valley we ate at Muse.  Lovely location, good food AND kangaroos welcomed us from the adjacent vineyard.  Which is nice.

Yep, there's a roo on each side of this row of grapes.

Cool restaurant architecture at Muse

We decided to go for one last run before we departed the Hunter Valley for Sydney.  As usual, I was out of the room first, waiting impatiently for Russell.  To my joy, I spotted two kangaroos hiding in the bush on the adjacent property.  I zoomed in on them as best I could. 


This was taken with the highest zoom setting 
 and then cropped for maximum proportion.
They're looking at me kind of funny.
Probably noting what's behind me.

As I was struggling to get the best shot, Russell showed up.  I waved at him frantically as he approached, gesturing towards the roos so he wouldn't scare them.  He started gesticulating wildly too.  I didn't understand.  Finally he yelled, "Dawn, turn around!"

I spun around and there, standing no less than fifteen feet from me, were two kangaroos, cocking their gigantic ears at me, wondering if I was crazy.   I couldn't get my camera pointed in their direction fast enough.  They bounded away right in front of me.  All this time I've been trying to get a picture of roos up close, and there they were, standing right behind me!!!!  Oh the humanity!

Right under my nose! Geez!







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