wine: Ariel Sauvignon Blanc and other drinks for preggers
So, for those of you who might not know… Tom and I have “recently conceived”. We have a blog that we publish to together called Now Entering Parenthood. I started a new blog, because otherwise this blog would become consumed in baby stuff… and I still am convincing myself that while this is a incredibly huge part of my life now, it’s not my WHOLE life. But there is one area where these two topics meet, and that is tasty drinks and being pregnant…
There is a whole assortment of non-alcoholic recipes out there, but often what I’d find is that 90% would be little more than fruit smoothies, dessert shakes, and high calorie fruit juice concoctions. Are there no good drinks that can bring me the pleasure of a simple glass of wine or a fizzy vodka tonic with lime?
my top pregnancy drinks
1. cranberry juice + tonic + bitters
This is my standard order at the bar, and fix up at home drink. It’s great because cranberry juice is super good for you, it’s fizzy and tangy, and the magic ingredient (bitters) gives it a unique flavor that really reminds you of an alcoholic cocktail. Sprite Zero is also a nice substitute for tonic.
2. sparkling juice + anything or alone
Sometimes I just REALLY want to drink something out of a wine glass that might kinda even look like wine. Sparkling raspberry, apple, or grape juice are a great way for me to do just this. They make great mixers, but they are also great on their own. I love the St Julian’s stuff, but Trader Joe’s has some great sparkling juices as well.
3. ginger ale + lychee puree
I had this amazing concoction at a fancy wine bar in NYC. You aren’t likely to have either of these items in your house, and that’s the point I’m trying to make. Why avoid going out to fancy bars and restaurants? Why not indulge in some super exotic non-alcoholic drinks? Some bartenders have real fun with it… others don’t know how to do much beyond make you a high calorie virgin daquiri, so make sure to have a back-up plan.
4. Ariel Sauvignon Blanc
Now their website has a whole slew of flavors. I’d be interested to try the sparkling and rose wines, but the reds just scare me away. My Trader Joe’s only carried the Chardonnay (at $8!!) and the Sauvignon Blanc ($4). The Chardonnay tasted like a watery apple juice, very far away from wine and overpriced. The Sauvignon Blanc however was pretty refreshing and with it’s crisp fruit flavors reminded me a bit off a semi dry Riesling.
the good news
Many of the drinks I listed above are surprisingly low in calories. I was ecstatic to learn how little a glass of non-alcoholic Sauvignon Blanc or sparkling white grape spumante contained (less than a normal glass of white whine in many cases). Other good news is that almost all these drinks are cool and refreshing. In a time where we are encouraged to drink milk and juice, and we are discouraged from carbonated soda filled with caffeine and sugar… it’s really nice to know there is something delicious and fizzy we are allowed to drink, especially at all these upcoming summer events!!
the bad news
Nothing I have listed above will ever ever take away the personal satisfaction that comes from a glass of kick ass red wine. There is no substitute. Nothing quite will make you feel the same. Nothing will go as good with a juicy tender steak or a tangy tomato pasta. And certainly nothing will taste the same… if you think grape juice just as good, you obviously have been drinking some very cheap wine in your lifetime.
So here is the rub. As pregnant women we have to decide if “drinks for a pregnant girl” means 100% not a drop of alcohol during the next year (gotta remember breast feeding girls). This is about as heated a topic as they come in the mommy forums, next to breastfeeding and spanking your kids.
Here is all I want… don’t you judge me, and I won’t judge you. If you decide to go the “better safe than sorry” route, then I shouldn’t be able to come up to you and condescend about how you are a weak-minded soul who subscribes to whatever hype and pseudo-science fear-mongering BS comes your way. And if I decide to go the “everything in moderation” route, then you shouldn’t be able to come up to me and call me a selfish out-of-control lush who is putting my child at risk because of a stubborn addiction.
Because, honestly, neither of us would be right about each other. But this is what angry people in forums would have you believe the debate is about. Just like every other issue in this world… no amount of science and research will change the heated way moms argue over the right and wrong ways to raise children, even before they’ve left the womb. But… taking my Obama approach to this… can’t we just agree that at the very heart of this, we ALL just want the best life for our kids… a healthy positive caring life.
I think we can all raise a glass to that… wine, sparkling juice, whatever you prefer.
vacation: newcastle upon tyne, england
We took the train in from London to Newcastle Upon Tyne. A quick three hours that went through the very flat but quaint sheeplands and tiny towns of England. Amused to watch the different folks pour in and out of the train… Italian man massaging his rosary beads, Irish couple on vacation to Scotland.
Newcastle is the first sun we get since being in the UK. The town is a strange and fascinating blend of old and new. We shop in the hip new stores and do the “night scene” which is overrun with 16 to 18 year olds who pour in from the local university wearing the latest fashions for a night of peacocking and dancing to Lady Gaga. We also visit one of the oldest pubs in the town and one of the oldest restaurants in the entire UK, Blackfriars, which used to be a monastery.
This was also the first time in the trip we really took it easy. On our first day, we visited a local fish and chips shop in the mall before heading over to The Newcastle Arms for a beer. The Newcastle Arms was a winner of the CAMRA (Campaign for Real Ale) award for “best pub” for the past three years… well at least until 2009, when Bacchus took it away from them. The pub is as classic as it gets with tons of old locals with nicknames like “Stumbly Tom”.
It’s Easter Beerfest at The Newcastle Arms, and I try the “Sub-lime Blonde” which smells like citrus candy and tastes like baked bread. We had a long chat with Neil the owner about how the Brits prefer to have their beer not so cold and not so fizzy. He ends up giving us a bottle of his favorite beer to take home and try out. Tom and I are going to try and return the favor, since everyone looks at us funny when we try and convince them Michigan has good beer. We feel like we need to be ambassadors of our state’s fabulous microbrewery scene.
The evening is spent first at an amazing Ultravox show, where we are one of the youngest people there by a decade. I will need to write a whole blog separate about one of the reunion show of one of my favorite new wave artists, who haven’t lost their luster over the 20 plus years they’ve been apart.
Next it was off to try and visit Digital for their 80s music night. Little did I know that Newcastle had such a huge club scene. Practically every inch of the city is packed with clubs and teens, and the minute I saw hordes of skimpy dressed girls and slick haired boys flocking to Digital like busy buzzing bees… I knew we needed something a little tamer and older. I had a bartender who looked about half my age recommend me a few places to go. “Go to Florita’s Apartment, you’ll luuuv it” (which sounds adorable in a Geordie accent).
It wasn’t long before my distaste for the “youngness” off the town wore off. Even for us older folk, the night scene was pretty amazing. Florita’s Apartment was ultra hip on the inside, but also a comfy place to hang out and sip cocktails. Right next door at Revolution, they serve goat cheese pizza all night long, along with thirty different flavors of housemade vodka shots, and pitchers of gourmet mojitos you can order for the table. If either of these places existed in Ferndale or Royal Oak, they would be the “it” spot… and they are just two of hundreds here in Newcastle.
The second day we continue to take it easy. We walk around this giant shopping mall of a city, taking in the lovely Geordie accent, which sometimes can sound like another language all together. I am tempted to pack a little girl in my suitcase to take her home as she runs around saying “me mum is lovely, me mum smells like apple pie”.
Between the dozens of flashy shoe shops and bars there is Grainger’s Market, which feels like a step back in time. It’s all butchers and local cheese. It would feel a lot like Pike’s Market in Seattle, if it didn’t have the muted colors and antiquity of a pawn shop in a nowhere town. Old fashion candies for 45p a bag makes for good movie food as we move onto the hipper entertainment mall, The Gate, to see an appropriately British movie… The Boat That Rocked. Cheesy and delightful.
We had to make a stop at Bacchus before dinner to try out the pub that took away Newcastle Arms CAMRA award. The bartender and another local who must run The Boathouse in Wylam (another CAMRA pub) immediately start chatting with us about beer… but then about our countries, from politics to weather to movies. There is a friendly rivalry between the two pubs we are told as the bartender keeps bringing us samples of beers and ciders.
The rest of our time in Newcastle was spent at Blackfriars. I have a couple glasses of Alnwick Rum, which is not a normal drink for me, but it smells and tastes like a delicious mix of brown sugar and a fireplace. Blackfriars is all about local and sustainable food, without being the slightest bit pretentious. For them it is history and flavor, it’s honoring their local farmers… not a novelty or a political statement.
Tom has the best beer of the entire trip while he’s there: Durham Brewery’s St Cuthbert IPA. We have grassfed steak, duck, a goat cheese tartlet, and chocolate cake with mead ice cream. It’s all made with ingredients from farms you can see by looking at the map on your table. If this place was in any town in America, everything would cost two or three times the price.
We wandered (stumbled) back to our apartment to back up for the next day. Taking with us a strong desire to return to this fabulous country… full of proud but humble people who are willing to take time to talk with you at lengths about their love for cheese, beer, and food.
Tomorrow we go home…
vacation: the food and beer scene in london, england
Today was a day of good food and good company… yesterday did not have me falling in love with London, but today had me wanting to stay a week or a year or longer…
Waking up in a soft marshmallow bed is worth all the money in the world. It’s still really hard to adjust to ordering food and saying thank you in English and not bad attempts at Portuguese. After breakfast we visit the British Museum, which is amazingly free. Echoing through the large great hall you can hear just about every language in the world all around you. It reminds me a lot of the Met in New York City, but not nearly as exhausting.
The Rosetta Stone is one of those things that despite being well-known and having seen tons of pictures, it is still really cool to see in person. We opt for the less typical cultures. Despite how cool Egyptian and Greek statues are, we’ve seen them so many times. The Assyrian (“Never Ending Story”) statues are amazing, and so is their alien looking writing. But the Living and Dying exhibit is the best, with a tapestry made out of all the pills (14,000 on average) people consume in a lifetime.
We walk the peaceful streets of Bloomsbury to The Eagle, a gastropub, for lunch. It reminds me of what you’d find in Portland or Seattle. We have roasted pork belly on lentils and smoked pigeon with some classic style British ales and cider. My taste buds feel like they are on mute because of my cold. All that gets through is intense heat, salt, or garlic. But I can still tell everything is amazing, hearty but gourmet.
After a nap, we head off to pub crawl on our way to Picadilly. First is the Swan, which is a bit touristy, but has some decent cask ales. The Brits are as serious about how beer is made and served as the French are about wine… and equally similar, both are elegant but not as easily enjoyed as other countries. A good Michigan microbrewed beer with intense hops or a fruity spicy New World wine (or Portugal) takes less concentration to appreciate.
A waitress from the Freemason Arms directs us to Lowlander for some expensive but worthwhile Belgian beer samplers. We finish off our Neil’s Yard Dairy cheddar and blue cheese with some tasty Weizens and Lambieks.
We do a little shopping, and reconfirm that even though Fedoras are hugely popular in London… Tom cannot wear a hat without it looking like he put on a child’s cap. I buy a “soodie” (half suit, half hoodie) at what seems like a Hot Topic-esque London flea market.
We leave Picadilly Circus as soon as we arrive. It looks like Times Square came in and wrecked a pretty part of Paris. Too many people, flashing lights. So we quickly move onto the expensive foodie shops near St. James park. All closed, which is sad because the window displays at Fortnum & Mason look delicious and they have a Laduree shop (famous Parisian macaroons) in Burlington Arcade. We stop for afternoon tea (at 7 pm) at Richoux. We are still on Portuguese dinner time, and won’t be hungry until 10 pm tonight. We nibble on warm baby scones as race cars go up and down Picadilly.
As the city gets dark we walk around Buckingham Palace and St James Park. The streets become silent as we move through the residential district of Belgravia, which must be super expensive. We see huge paintings and chandeliers inside apartments and lines of exotic cars. And in the middle of a back alley we find The Grenadier, an old and supposedly haunted pub (a royal guardsman was beaten to death for cheating at cards).
The Grenadier was the pub that Tom was longing to come to England for. Behind the counter was a delightful chap who told us all about the history of the place (“I certainly wouldn’t call it one of the oldest pubs in London, couldn’t say that”). Sitting next to him were two regulars that could have come out of any British movie or TV show ever set in a pub. One man worked for the “Campaign for Real Ale” (www.camra.org.uk) and was excited to show everyone the new issue of the London Drinker. They told us all about the Cheshire Cheese and other bars we needed to visit on our trip.
For dinner we went to a super swanky sushi restaurant called Sake No Hana, which felt like eating in a bamboo forest / sauna. I got worried when we were put next to the Americans, but they turned out to be super foodies from Seattle and London who gave us amazing recommendations on where to go for good cookbooks and food (apparently Great Queen Street restaurant is a must visit). We didn’t have the heart to tell them we were off to Newcastle early the next morning 
We ended the night on their recommended “night spot” The Donovan Bar in Brown’s Hotel. It was like drinking in an art gallery with photos and display cases of antiquities. It was an expensive but pleasant way to end our one full day in the fabulous city of London.
Tomorrow: off to Newcastle for Ultravox show
vacation: west end and westminster in london, england
We wake up crazy early to catch our flight. We almost miss it, but catch the bus at the gate just in time to be shipped off to our British Airways jet. Already it’s nice to hear people speak English, especially with a British accent. I get called “love” by one of the attendants. We descend into clouds and fog over the city.
We meet up with Alyssa and despite all our trying, end up with a pile of coins from the London Underground ticket machine. “Jackpot” said the boys behind us poking fun. I spent the rest of the day jiggling them in my pocket… I felt like a leprechaun with a pot of gold.
We were accompanied on the Underground with a bunch of noisy drunk teens, probably football players, who were drinking open beers on the train in the middle of the day. I heard “fuckin’ hell” about ten times in two minutes. There is a lot of bad fashion and haircuts, on the train but also in the city in general. It’s not as pretty as Lisbon or Porto, at least not until nighttime.
Covent Garden is cute with the colored walls and shops. Neil’s Yard Dairy is an AMAZING cheese shop, and we are helped by Ned (a great man with a great mustache), who tells us all about some cheeses we can’t get in the states. Everything is amazing… Montgomery Cheddar has crystals in it like aged gouda. The unpasteurized blue cheese melts like butter in your mouth.
We pass many street performers, and the city is becoming crowded like Rome on a Saturday night. Many places are closed for holiday weekend, so we lunch at O’Neils and have dinner at Bhatti, an Indian restaurant right next store. Good pub food and good Indian food are two check marks on our list… neither are mind blowing, but both are pretty good, especially in Westminster area.
After a nice long nap in our super comfortable beds, we take a long walk around city at night. The lights are quaint along the River Thames. London Eye looks like a big bicycle wheel and Big Ben reminds me a bit of the Louvre at night, although nothing is quite that cool. Big Ben chimes 11 times and looks dramatic against the foggy sky.
We pass some protesters near Westminster Abbey. We want to find some good beer but we are having trouble finding a place that’s open. By then we are in West End, which feels like London’s Times Square. The bars are overcrowded and people are dressed in anything from costumes to way too little. Waxy O’Connors is cool inside, but also crowded, hot, and closing early!!
We plan our day for tomorrow around finding a good place for beer. Now it has become a mission.
Tomorrow: Find a good pub for a strong IPA
vacation: porto and vila nova da gaia, portugal
Breakfast in the hotel was much better this morning, and a needed ease after a tiring night. Alyssa and Tom stayed a bit later than I did at Café Au Lait, a hip bar that was literally right next store to our hotel. They were playing a mix of techno, fado, and American indie music, and became incredibly packed at one in the morning. Alyssa joined a Spanish photography group for a few drinks at a hidden bar that even most Portuguese don’t know about. They kept asking her how in the world she found it. The group wanted us to join them to climb a mountain in Fatima, but we are tired of climbing things.
On check out, I ask a woman about the weather today. She says “It’s April, I don’t know.” It seemed weird at the time, but the day was exactly like that. One minute pouring down freezing rain, the next blue skies and beautiful sunshine. I guess it was 26 degrees Celsius the day before we arrived.
Rain or shine Porto is just stunning, especially from the Vila Nova da Gaia side of the river. The port boats are lined up along the docks, the Dom Luis bridge is large and impressive, and the dark rain clouds mixed with piercing blue sky paint shadows over the Porto mountains and Ribeira cafes.
Sandleman is too busy and too touristy to visit. Love their logo, but it makes me feel like I’m at Robert Mondavi in California, too many people. We try a smaller but unimpressive place before heading to Calem. We learn all about how the port is made and end on a tasting in a room all to ourselves. Just as we leave the room is packed… which is the story of our day.
Lunch, we grab one of the last tables at Ar da Dio, a strange glass box restaurant on the river. Seems far from authentic, but the mirror walls and windows make you feel like you are eating outside, even though you are inside, with real sunshine on your table. We all get Francesinhas, which is a sandwich filled with two types of sausage, pork, and ham… covered in melted cheese and a beer-based tomato sauce… served on a bed of fries. My mouth says yes yes yes, while my calorie counter says no.
We move the car to the Ribeira, where we park on a crosswalk. Nobody seems to care. The Portuguese just park wherever they see fit today. We walk for a bit before heading off to the modern art museum which was a disappointment. Besides a few funny bad exhibits, there wasn’t much worth the dollars spent.
We arrive in Lisbon through the mountains to stay at our sketchiest hotel yet. Uncomfortable beds, questionable neighborhood was mostly worth it as we used the extra money on an extravagant dinner at Bocca Restaurant. They had over 60 wines by the glass, and the place looked even more expensive than it was. Tom had an amazing duck in fig sauce, Alyssa had coffee noodles covered in goat cheese and walnuts, and I had quail roasted on a rosemary sprig.
We tear into our oozing chocolate cake as the only table left in the place has a long conversation with the waiter about politics, wine, and food. “When they are needed, America supports the world” “Whisky is better because whiskey stories are better than wine stories” It’s interesting just to be a fly on the wall sometimes.
wines consumed:
Tomorrow: London!!
vacation: porto, portugal
Miserable hotel breakfast right off the bat, sweaty ham and orange water. We try and find a post office on the way out and it is unlabeled and hard to understand. Alyssa said it looked like a guidance counselor office, but it worked. Ended up following endless signs of pigs on spikes to Bussaco, makes us hungry for lunch early as we ascend into the mountains.
As we go into the monastery area of Bussaco, there are lots of what we can only assume is prostitutes on the side of the road. A giant man who looks like Peter Jackson gets out the car next to us when we arrive at the Palace Bussaco. There are all sorts of hanging purple flowers everywhere, and we go up into the woods to view the stations of the cross in various ancient boxes. Before we know it, Peter Jackson is coming down the path chanting with a group of 50 people… he kept following us, we thought we were done for 
Fonte Fria is beautiful and peaceful, but we almost got killed in the road trying to leave the area. Happened upon a “tipico” restaurant near Curia, decided we needed to try this Leitao Assado (roast suckling pig). It is amazing amazing and so different than the same dish we had in a tourist area of Lisbon. A tender fall off the bone pork with a crispy bacon-like outside. We decide to get gelado in toys just for the hell of it… they come in a penguin in a cowboy hat (Pingu) and a semi-offensive Chinese man on a skateboard.
Porto looks a lot like Paris only lots and lots of rain. Lello Bookshop would be cool if it wasn’t crowded beyond belief. Begins to really pour down rain to the point where garbage rivers start to go downhill. We can’t find any of the bars in our list, and the wine museum (along with everything else) is closed. We decide to camp out at a small bar where we try cheap wine and get incredibly tempted by the Francesinha… a high calorie meat and cheese sandwich that we absolutely need to try before we leave.
We walk towards the Riberia as the rain lets up. Porto looks wonderful at night, and we decide to go to Restaurante Chez Lapin. We get there just in the nick of time, because groups and groups fill up all the tables. The waiter (Forrest Whittaker) kids with us, telling us he is from Alabama when he isn’t, asking us our favorite team in the NBA. The veal and rabbit are amazing.
We run to catch a cab in the pouring rain, and hang out at the techno club right next to our hotel along the Galerie de Paris.
Tomorrow: More Porto and back to Lisbon
vacation: obidos and coimbra, portugal
Breakfast on the way out of Lisbon. We end up at a café even though Alyssa and Tom wanted to try Portuguese McDonald’s, but they had no coffee and were not open for breakfast. Instead we had a final tasty pastel de nata and ordered some strange chocolate orange soda that was as odd as it sounds. Soda pop with pulp in the bottom is a fair common occurrence.
We decide to take the Alenquer wine road through the Estremurada region. Several failed attempts to find the first winery gets us to a wine museum, where a nice lady directs us down the road to Quinta da Pancas and Quinta Boavista. On our way out we pass a group of girls dressed in bunny costumes for Easter who do a dance and give us chocolate eggs.
Quinta da Pancas has neon green grape leaves with black T-vines. The sun reminds me of Tuscany, only lizards run up and down the walls. As Alyssa pokes her head out of an abandoned door with a mask on for a photo, the owner of the vineyard comes out to talk with us. He points us in the direction of yet another vineyard, and in the end none of them are open or tourist friendly or require appointments.
Instead we follow the lines of wind turbines up to the top of a hill, where we picnic under a giant spinning tower. The sound is peaceful, and despite the flies and ants, the picnic is a success. The Quinta da Pancas wine I ended up buying from the museum is delicious with the cured meats. Portuguese cheese proves again to be a disappointment, and has gotten sweaty in the sunshine.
Off to Obidos, the castle walled town where there is ginja tastings everywhere. The whole town with its white walls and bright blue and yellow paint smells of fresh flowers. Outside of the castle walls there are so many trees with purple flowers, I can’t stop taking photos.
We manage to avoid accidents with all the crazy Portuguese drivers as we arrive in Sintra, listening to two CDs I bought along the way. One with a mustached man with a giant accordion, and another that I think translates into the vampires of Coimbra.
We have a long dinner at A Taberna, which explodes with garlic aroma the minute we walk through the door. The wine, 2001 Sidonia de Sousa Reserva Tinto from Bairrada is amazing. The food is incredible… flavorful meats served table side, covered in their own juices and then paired with as many sides as you could hope for.
We take the city streets the mile back to walk off our dinner. Trying to capture the beauty of a European town at night along the way, but never quite succeeding.
Tomorrow: Porto
vacation: sintra, portugal
Charcutaria Brasil small but nice shop where we order linguica and some shiny salty ham and strange looking serpa cheese. Have our first real stand up breakfast with tasty pastries and fresh squeezed orange juice. Decided to order a “bottle” of Coca-cola and got laughed at because I think garrafa (bottle) only applies to a bottle of wine.
Off to Sintra for the day. Looks the same as it must have over a hundred years ago, narrow and small streets remind us of the small towns in Burgundy or Sam Gimignano. We park alongside a wall and begin to walk up to Palacio da Pena (aka the “candy castle”), through a botanical garden with giant roses, lilacs and cala lilies in bloom. It smells wonderful as we ascend the mossy rocks.
Soon we realize just how far away the palace really is. It takes us over an hour to get to the top. We watch as some crazy cyclists and giant buses ascend around us. The castle looks dirtier than it should, but still gorgeous. It’s a photo opportunity at every turn. The outside is far more entertaining than the inside, except for some crazy paintings of monkey barbers and cats. The hunger has kicked in and we still have a long way down.
We get a little lost before we find the car. We dive into our food bags… digging out chunks of cheese with a corkscrew. Dipping torn up bread pieces into a jar of Dijon mustard with amazing salty cured meat and fresh strawberries. Old people pass and watch us as we swig from our wine bottle happily. One of the most satisfying picnics of my life.
We spend a few minutes in town, but the junky tourists shops get old, and we get tired of the high school kids. Teenagers are annoying in every culture and language. We try out the queijada and franseico at Piriquita which is buttery and flaky good. Next up is the Castelo Mouros, which we had almost ruled out. But it is a good rest as we drive up the mountain.
The view is spectacular, but the wind is unforgiving. Every turn is a crazy landscape that cannot be captured on camera. More annoying teens blocking the good views on top. But the view is still worth it, like Tuscany but on the ocean. Terrifying as you crawl along the side of the hundreds of year old castle with tiny stairs, no guard rails and jagged rocks.
We decide to kill time along the coast, and happen upon Cabo da Roca. It’s freezing but as the sun begins to set, you cannot deny the beauty. Green hills covered in white and purple flowers, clean white lighthouse with a bright red roof, and crystal blue waters crashing along the cliffs in slow motion. The road weaves in and out of the cliffsides like Pacific Coast Highway 1, and the beaches at Guincho remind me of the peaceful sand dunes of northern Michigan.
We try in vain to find several restaurants I researched, but each leads us to a questionable residential neighborhood and into detours and alleyways. We finally decide to just eat at “bgbar” in Estoril, which looks far swankier on the outside than the menu costs (thankfully). Tom has a mango sauce covered chicken dish which reminds Alyssa of cat food. My fried squids covered in garlic and white wine are the best and most authentic of the dishes. We all return home exhausted for our last night in Lisboa.
Tomorrow: Obidos and Coimbra
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