Saltwater Farm Vineyard, Stonington

I’ve made no secret of my love for Connecticut’s farm wineries, which made this guide to the 2012 season so easy to write. There’s a lot going on this year, from new vintage releases to special food pairings, live music and alfresco dinners.

Pick up your 2012 passport at any of the 33 participating wineries. Visit at least 16 of them, have the book stamped at each location, and you’re eligible to win some sweet prizes. Each year, everyone guns for the grand prize: the two-week trip to Spain’s Costa del Sol.

I’ll see you on the trail.

On Saturday morning, I found myself in the third row of Wesleyan University’s Crowell Concert Hall with sister-in-food Amy, when a trademark tangle of dark hair entered stage right. It was Ruth Reichl, she of the world-famous memoirs, piles of writing awards (including 6 Beard Foundation nods) and storied career as restaurant critic for the Los Angeles Times and New York Times, and editor of Gourmet magazine. Not to mention her Twitter account, full of evocative, lilting, haiku-like pearls that spawned a brilliant parody.

Ruth Reichl and WNPR's Faith Middleton

Reichl and several food stars were on hand for Wesleyan’s FOODSTOCK conference, a celebration of “books and cooks” bringing together local and national culinary figures and passionate food lovers.

During a 45-minute moderated Q&A session with WNPR’s Faith Middleton, Reichl discussed her career path, food politics and ethics, her latest project (a novel – something she said she found much tougher than nonfiction writing) and the changes in food that correspond with the economy.

Among Reichl’s most interesting responses, when asked by Middleton if restaurants had become “the primal scene of modern life”:

“That’s exactly the attitude that made me stop being a restaurant critic and go to Gourmet,” she said. “…The moment where we’re spending all of our private time in public spaces, we have lost something really important. When you invite someone into your home, it’s an intimate act. You’re becoming vulnerable in a way that you never are in a restaurant. Restaurants are safe…I think there’s something so important about having people to your home…I think it’s one of the real problems of modern life. We’ve lost some of that intimacy. I hate it. I really wanted to encourage people to start cooking and stop spending all their time in restaurants.”

Next up was New York Times wine critic Eric Asimov, who was easily my favorite speaker of the day. If anyone had license to be snobby about wine, it would be the authority such as himself, writing for the national paper of record. But he couldn’t have been more refreshingly laid-back and nonchalant about his job and his body of knowledge.

“We’ve focused entirely too much on the issue and mechanics of tasting. It almost seems as if the whole discussion of wine is taken from the methods of professional tasters…these elements are all completely unnecessary to ordinary consumption and enjoyment of wine. It disturbs me that it comes immediately to mind when we think about wine at all,” he said.

Asimov with Faith Middleton

Asimov noted that the New York Times pays for all the wines tasted (they don’t depend on receiving free samples from the industry; they don’t want to be obliged to anyone to write anything.) It also serves for a better sampling of coverage – they’ll taste a cross-section of wines that will be available to consumers in stores, rather than what’s sent to them.

He also advised the audience not to be afraid to enlist the help of a restaurant sommelier, informing them of a budget and asking for suggestions. “Most of the time, you’re going to come up with something that’s good and surprising and pleasing,” he said.

I’ve come across quite a bit of pretension and condescension among wine professionals in the time I’ve been doing this kind of work. It’s unfortunate, and intimidating. I wish more people took the same approach as Asimov, because we’d have a whole new population of wine lovers much more comfortable with their tastes and preferences.

Lunchtime was a jungle of food trucks – and long, long lines…

Munchies Food Truck, based in New London

Long lines at Lucky Taco, based in the Hartford area

I went with this creamy-sweet-tangy-gluttonous-holy-crap-delicious Brie and bacon marmalade blend from Whey Station, a Middletown-based grilled cheese truck.

(I took this pic while balancing a glass bottle of soda. Don’t ever let anyone tell you multimedia journalists aren’t multi-talented.)

The first post-lunch session, a writing seminar with Molly O’Neill, was accompanied by a handout with the title “So you want to be a food writer HAHAHA.” (Nothing I haven’t heard before.)

She counseled attendees to secure a “really good ‘B’ job” for financial security while pursuing the food writing avenue. I refrained from raising my hand to ask if journalism was considered a good “B” job.

But sobering economic reality aside, the following session, “The Business of Food,” reminded me of just why I love being a journalist.

During the hour, I got to hear the stories of Kashia Cave, a Trinidad-born chef who heads up My City Kitchen, a nonprofit cooking school and culinary education center. Then learned even more about the exciting backgrounds of Branford restaurateurs Arturo and Suzette Franco-Camacho -  I’ve interviewed them several times but never knew that Suzette worked for Disney, or that Arturo cooked in Maui, Madrid and Japan. And fourth panelist Josh Goldin of Alliance Consumer Growth, a company that invests in food and beverage products, sheepishly admitted that his firm passed on Zico coconut water.

There were sessions I missed (as a longtime Roadfood fan, would have loved to hear Jane Stern’s presentation) but I suppose that’s a hallmark of a solid event. Too much good stuff going on at once.

I’m already crossing my fingers Wesleyan will host FOODSTOCK or something like it next year. Beyond the huge-name speakers and fascinating discussions, the campus was beautiful, the event was well-organized and the student volunteers were incredibly helpful and eager to please.  I drove home from Middletown inspired, re-energized, grateful for my career opportunities thus far and motivated to emulate my food-writing idols (and of course tickled that I’d been in such close company.)

Epilogue: On the way out, Amy and I snagged cupcakes from NoRA for our respective other halves, and I’m here to tell you that you need to get yourself there post-haste to try the Irish Car Bomb. Chocolate stout cake, Jameson-laced dark chocolate ganache and Bailey’s frosting. Trust – this Irish girl will not steer you wrong.

What I will do, though, is share this very helpful guideline to new FTC regulations, a must-read for any blogger who features sponsored posts, endorsements or reviews of company-provided products and/or services. (Also, if you’re not familiar with food-writing expert and coach Dianne Jacob, she’s a great resource.)

In my view, this is a good thing – it calls for more transparency and keeps bloggers honest, which then translates to more trust from their readership/audience.

I suppose I should add: “Language not safe for work” because you don’t all work with foul-mouthed news heathens like myself.

Though I’m living kind of a weird double life right now, it’s great so far. Anyone who’s ever freelanced for a stretch of time can attest to this: working for yourself is mostly wonderful, but in some ways terrible.

I like being in a structured office setting again, and I’m back in touch with my news roots. That’s a good thing. When you spend your days writing about wacky fast food items, your brain tends to curdle a bit.

But don’t worry. I’ve been doing some of that in my new market, too. (My skills are clearly transferable.)

That was my experience at the Blue Heron in Sunderland, Mass. last night, situated in a beautiful rural area just a few minutes from Amherst. It’s an inventive place, focused on local, organic and sustainably-raised ingredients. Though that’s nearly cliche these days, you can tell when a restaurant is truly dedicated to the cause. Just look at the long list of farms and purveyors from which they source. (And they’re also known for hosting actress Jane Lynch’s wedding in 2010!)

The menu is divided into bites/small plates and entrees. It took all my restraint (and thoughts of my recent tax payment to dear Uncle Sam) not to ask our server to just bring one of each.

Here’s a look at what we devoured, between our table of 3. I wish my photos were better. The food deserves it.

Pan-fried oysters with the most insanely delicious champagne butter sauce.

A local cheese plate with selections from Massachusetts and Vermont.

Steamed bun with Vietnamese fried chicken, hoisin and kimchi

Housemade lemon chive fettuccine with lobster

Mediterranean shellfish stew with a tomato and white wine broth, served over mascarpone polenta

Smoked Niman Ranch pork chop with caramelized apples and applejack brandy sauce

Valrhona chocolate pot de creme with ricotta doughnuts

This is easily in the lead for my best meal thus far of 2012. It was an experience, made even better by the beautiful weather, our fantastically helpful server who went out of her way to answer our questions in plenty of detail and of course, moments of hysterical laughter among good friends. Fabulous night.

Blue Heron Restaurant, 112 North Main Street, Sunderland, MA. 413-665-2102, blueherondining.com.

This line of wines from TXT Cellars is some of the saddest “millennial” marketing I’ve ever seen. Let’s brand a bunch of cheap wine with text-speak and see if it sells.

Even funnier/sadder are the notes accompanying the wines: WTF Pinot Noir, LMAO Pinot Grigio, LOL Riesling, OMG Chardonnay, GR8 Cabernet Sauvignon and CYA Shiraz. Each wine label is accompanied by three (!) exclamation points but I just couldn’t bring myself to type them out.

“Total acidity: No one really cares. Residual sugar: 30 g/l (that means it’s sweet.) Serving: Serve chilled from 42-46°F or throw ice in it. We really don’t care…This is wine geek talk. We don’t like wine geeks.”

My 1981 birthdate puts me right on the cusp of Generation X and Millennial, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to cling to the former.

(With this photo, I can already sense there’s a split in my readership right now. Some of you are saying, “What in the hell is this?” and others are clawing at the screen, drooling.)

Friends, this is a bánh mì sandwich, a unique cultural fusion of Vietnamese meats, vegetables and condiments atop a baguette. The New York Times describes it as the “culinary embodiment of French colonial rule in Vietnam.” This is one of the most fascinating pieces of culinary trivia I’ve ever heard, and I guarantee you I’d have paid more attention in my history classes if every lesson was somehow linked to food.

Shortly after beginning this blog in late 2009, I became fixated on Vietnamese cuisine, with which I’m still enamored to this day. Despite growing up in Worcester, a city with a decent-sized Vietnamese population and plenty of fantastic pho restaurants, I didn’t discover the food until I’d moved away. Go figure.

Things often work out the way they’re supposed to, though, and I’m now living between two cities (Springfield and Hartford) with plenty of options for this cuisine. In Springfield, we’re no more than 15 minutes away from Dickinson Street, which is lined with Vietnamese restaurants, delis, bakeries and shops. (Vinh Chau is my favorite of the bunch; if we aren’t there once a month, something just feels wrong.)

Down the street is Can Tho Fast Food, a place I’m not sure I would ever have discovered if not for the divine intervention of my friend Ben, who stopped by one day and found out they were serving the best bánh mì in the area. I’d been resigned to the fact that I had to go to Hartford for my fix, so this was huge news.

Can Tho is a small spot; no more than a little luncheonette, but it’s great. They serve eight different varieties of bánh mì, with variations of pork (barbecued, pate, shredded, ham.) The crusty bread is spread with what they call “butter” (I’m not sure if it’s technically mayonnaise or aioli, but who cares, it’s perfect texturally) and loaded up with flavorful meats, pickled carrots and daikon, cilantro, cucumber and diced red Thai chiles that burn like a bitch if you’re not wild about spices. I like to add hoisin sauce to mine, and a touch of sriracha if the sandwich isn’t already spicy.

I stopped by yesterday with Kat for a takeout order. Six sandwiches and two bags of shrimp crackers = $21. It’s just that cheap. (The “loaded” sandwiches cost $4; regular varieties are $3.50.)

In fact, bánh mì are becoming so trendy that upscale restaurants are introducing their own riffs on the sandwich. At Dish Bar & Grill in Hartford, a chicken bánh mì with pate, carrot, cilantro and sriracha is priced at $13. At one point, Dirty Truth in Northampton served their own >$10 version, with duck confit as an extra add-on. Even a new Vietnamese restaurant in Windsor Locks, Pho 75, prices theirs at $7. (True story: My very first taste of bánh mì was actually one created by Copper Beech Inn for the 2010 Mohegan Sun WineFest.)

Without having tried the expensive versions, I can’t judge, but if I’m paying $13 for bánh mì, I’d rather have three authentic sandwiches.

In the Hartford area, you can find good, inexpensive bánh mì from a handful of spots in the city’s Parkville neighborhood, such as Kien Market and Hiep Phat. I’m partial to Huong Viet because it’s a one-stop shop for sandwiches and other delicacies like pho and bun (rice noodle dishes.) Same goes for Chau’s in Manchester. I haven’t been a fan of the bánh at A Dong in West Hartford, though.

I’m always on the lookout for new bánh spots, though, so please leave suggestions here if you’ve got them.