Friday morning, October 21st. Took an early morning bus from Philadelphia to New York's Port Authority, cycled down to Penn Station, met my cycling buddy from Brasil, Y., and hopped on the 11:14 Long Island Railroad service to Montauk, the eastern tip of Long Island. Our second "loaded" tour together, our first on road bikes.
Road bikes being, theoretically, much faster than the mountain bikes we took off-road in Brasil in the spring, we figured we should be easily able to exceed the 100km day limit we managed before. Working against me though was a) no exercise in 4 months, b) only slightly more sleep over the same period, and c) surgery for a deviated septum exactly 10 days before. Not an ideal scenario.
GPS is a wonderful thing, and getting off at Bridgehampton station, we cycled the hard 2 miles to our first stop, Long Island's most enigmatic winery, Channing Daughters, with wines largely inspired by those of Friuli/Brda - yes, indeed! 
Approaching the tasting room, which was all but empty. Amongst the Gods which we had unwittingly summoned, the Lord of Fair Weather and the Lord of Empty Tasting Rooms were our foremost companions. I should note that the ever so crafty Lord of Ill-Conceived Shopping was also present along the way.
Our pourer had recently visited both Gravner and Radikon, and we had a full slate of Friulian-inspired wines to try. The highlights were a Tocai Friulano, two actually, both appearing varietally correct, though only one really pleasing; and the Meditazione (above), a skin-fermented blend of Sauvignon, Chardonnay, Tocai, Muscat Ottonel (!), and Pinot Grigo. Wild! 
Their Ramato fell a bit short of the mark for me, but in general, it was an adventuresome portfolio. A not-quite-Jurassic chardonnay, Malvasia Biancas, and a pair of quite reasonable Blaufrankisches. The Refosco and Lagrein were both sold out, but we were given access to far beyond the normal tasting, and the effort, even if slightly wide of the mark, is very much appreciated. Chapeau!
Hmm... two miles covered in two hours, two loaves of bread (freshly baked with the winery's lees, and delivered as we were tasting) and three bottles of wine strapped to bikes now. Not a good sign. Only 40 miles to cover today, barely a warm up, but still...
Head down, we cycled strong for the next couple of hours, but on a long and lonely stretch, in which the sea sounded on both sides, and hunger pangs began to rise, this clam bar beckoned shortly before reaching Montauk.
$30 for a Lobster Roll and a bottle of local beer! Jeez... I mean, I feel it is always imperative, on these cycling trips, to sample the local fare, but this was painful. Tasty, but painful.
We reached Montauk with sunset approaching, but it turned out we had another 6 miles to go to actually reach the Lighthouse, which, if we were to say we cycled the length of the island, was a must. And, up until reaching the village, our route had been reasonably flat, and me, with a racing gears set up, felt reasonably confident that I'd survive. Unfortunately... this last stretch was very hilly. And it got dark. And it got cold. And my GPS battery died... fortunately, we had clothes (aha! loaded touring!) And we had a backup GPS! Woohoo! Fully chilled, we got to our "motel", basically, a set of rooms over the dodgiest dive bar on the island, but there were two queen size beds, the room was reasonably clean, and warm, and the shower had absolutely no flow control. It was glorious. Hot shower, followed by a great meal in the town's "best restaurant", Harvest on Fort Pond" - we had grilled oysters, mussels, a bit of steak, and a single beer (Brooklyn Brewery Lager - lovely, actually, more hops than any typical lager, but not all Left Coasty...) that basically kicked me in the head. Stamina, where have ye gone?
Serious day of cycling today. Leaving Montauk, passed the tallest structure in town. Dubbed, "Montaukparnasse"...
Oh Gods of Shopping, why would you put a "Last Day Sale" at the surf shop just as we leave town? Don't you know that we have 115 miles to cover??? It was a minor disaster. Everything, $5. I bought 3 t-shirts for my friends' kids (staying at their place tonight), plus two jackets for the Mrs. Y. nearly came away with a wetsuit. And a kayak.
Now, the shorter route would have been to stay on the South Fork and proceed straight west, but we decided we would tack on an extra 20 miles and cut up to the North Fork, where most of the L.I. wineries are. This required a couple of bridges and a two-leg ferry journey to and from Shelter Island. You will note the cycling jersey, a fundraiser for the Japan tsunami.
Beginning the North Fork wine trail.
And not 50 meters from that last sign, our first stop, One Woman Wines, producer of the only Grüner Veltliner on the island. And in truth, it was pretty decent (ignoring the price.) One more bottle added to the bike, and a pair of glasses to enjoy the lovely sun. 
By now, we were falling more than a bit behind our intended pace. Four bottles of wine, 2 loaves of bread, and half a surf shop...
Next stop, not 3 miles later, The Winemaker Studio. This is the "storefront/winebar" for the areas winemakers, most of whom are not the owners of the wineries they work at. We tasted a few more things, including a bone dry gewurtztraminer (Spezia) and a not very weedy cabernet franc ("Bordo") from Anthony Nappa, a respectable northern rhone styled syrah from Suhru Wines, and a nearly-Austrian dry riesling from The Grapes of Roth. Wonder what "The Grapes of David Lee Roth" would be like?
We also had some lunch, one loaf of bread (to lighten our load, of course) and some jamon iberico that Y. somehow wangled in with him. Don't ask, I don't want to know.
Now several hours behind schedule, we finally made it back to the Hamptons, passing this very fancy McDonald's. Why didn't we stop for some nuggets??
By this time it was evident that there was no way we were going to make it to our destination within an hour of sunset, so we had to make new plans, and that was, get to a train station. Looking at the schedules, we had few choices, and a tight schedule to keep to, with a further 2 hours on a local train in order to make it to my friends' house for the night. All in all, we cycled about 70 miles in 10 hours, including ferry rides, wine tasting, eating, and shopping (we stopped at not one but two more bike shops looking for geegaws and doodads... I do have some extra bright yellow handle tape now). Not too bad, I suppose. And in speaking with one of the bike shop owners, it seems that 70 miles per day loaded is not an unreasonable upper limit.
Arrive at my friend's place we did. And a great dinner followed by a deep sleep. But given our glacial pace, and our absolute need to reach the Wall Street piers in Manhattan by 12:35 it was a quick exit and a not entirely pressure free 40 mile ride the next morning.
Would you believe, Brooklyn?
Crossing the Williamsburg Bridge... a bit off course and costing us time, my GPS absolutely refused to recognize the Brooklyn Bridge - it would have been shorter, more direct, and allowed us time to cycle round the WTC memorial, but it didn't work out. A nice ride all the same, and awesome that the bridges in NYC are so bike friendly.
Made it to Pier 11, for the Sandy Hook ferry, with 10 minutes to spare.
Hmm... bike seems very much more laden than when we began. Sensibly, a water bottle was ditched for more important items. This has inspired our next business concept, attempting to latch a case worth of wine to the frame of the bike... stay tuned.
Having reached New Jersey, and crossing to the barrier island community of Sea Bright...
Lunch on Longbranch beach
Through the farmlands of Monmouth County, the last few, slow, painful miles to Freehold, NJ, where we arrived at my in-laws' house approximately 3 minutes ahead of schedule. My father-in-law couldn't believe it, but there we were, 80 miles later. Originally, we were going to spend the night and cycle down to Philly the next day, but having ridden that 70 mile stretch before, I knew that it was fairly uninspiring terrain, and frankly, I wanted to get home to the kids.All in all though, a great, packed little ride, my heart and legs never gave out (only my lungs, and the post-op nasties hiding in my sinuses), so that's a plus. Hopefully a kickstart to getting fit again.
This sake was sent to us recently by a friend who lives in Tokyo, it's one of the "gold medal" winners at the BY23 (this year) national sake evaluation. Ok, so 286 out of 1085 entries won a gold medal, but these competition sake are the cream of the crop, for the entire country. Nihonbashi Daiginjo (can't read the main kanji - anyone care to illuminate?), by Saitama Prefecture's Yokota Shuzo. 100% Yamada Nishiki, semaibuai 40%, SMV +5, acidity 1.3. TREMENDOUS ginjo nose, smooth, clean sweetness. Doesn't taste as dry as the numbers suggest, silky goodness. Yum!
Ozeki Junmai Shiboritate, the one that comes in the 1.8 liter milk carton! And folks, I'll say it again, my opinion is that Ozeki is head and shoulders above the rest of the giants when it comes to mass-producing brew. I don't care if it's... the (insert best of bland American beer mega-breweries here) of sake, I'll drink this anytime. And I believe I paid less than a Jackson for it. In these times of financial austerity, I nominate this sake as the house sake. Unknown rice, semaibuai 73%, SMV +5, acidity 1.6, low alcohol content of 13%, fresh and clean.
Tengumai Uma Jun, a junmai from Ishikawa Prefecture's Shata Shuzo - I loved their yamahai, I guess this is the sokujo version of the same? Don't know the rice type, but it is milled to 60%, SMV +6, acidity 1.6, and 15.5% abv. A little drier than the yamahai, on the numbers, and tastes that way too, milder, but still full flavoured, savoury, and a definite presence in the mouth. Too interesting to slurp, but not so interesting that you must sip. In a nice spot.
Kagatoubi Cho-Karakuchi Yamahai Junmai. Already a big fan of Kagatoubi, and all the Fukumitsuya products, but this is really something. You'd certainly not guess that this is yamahai. Yamada Nishiki and gohyakumangoku milled to 65%, SMV +12, acidity 1.8, 16% abv. Dry, yes, but really not an extreme sake, the acidity is not aggressive, and even though you might think it would amplify any yamahai funkiness, it just doesn't. Full-flavoured without being full-flavoured.Yum.
Jun Daiti, from Brasil. The only details I can find is that it's got 13% alcohol, which tastes several percentage points low. In a bad way. My understanding is that this is actually based on the Gekkeikan USA product, and also listed with Diageo! Not much information to be found out there about this, but just as well, there's nothing particularly redeeming here, other than, depending on your point of view, the "design" (because, a search for "jun daiti" pulls up lots of similar looking/sounding design blogs.) And, skimming off the top too - a 670ml bottle! That is no multiple of gō!
"SAKE EAU DE PARFUM 1OZ features a luscious, velvety fragrance influenced by Japanese beauty rituals and is housed in a mini artisanal bottle. This sensual blend of luscious notes with subtle floral undertones was inspired by the exotic elements of Japanese bathing rituals. Geisha, known for their legendary beauty, used to soak in sake baths infused with peaches, persimmons, lotus, rose, and chrysanthemum."
Unsurprisingly, alcohol vapours are flammable, and getting a good seal on your still components is essential. As it turns out, I did not, but with careful monitoring, I was able to produce a couple of ounces of distillate. To this, I added a drop of kuromatsu essence (Pinus thunbergii), some vegetable glycerin, and some distilled water. That, my friends, is perfume. It has a mild sake and pine aroma. Since the black pine was a favorite of Japanese watercolorists, I shall call this Junmai Sumi-E.... no, no... I'll take recommendations.
The most recent batch of sake got away from me a bit. I had intended to both correct the previous mistakes (aging in dark bottles, first and foremost) and try a new wrinkle (brewing with arborio rice). And, I did. The arborio... eating grade, milling only about 90%. Was slow to ferment, and I learned that the depth of the mash is important - too much surface area and the yeast doesn't seem to like it. Will have to work on my vessel progression
Anyways, I finally got around to the joso, the pressing, this past weekend. I set up this shizuku rig and it seemed to work pretty well, only the cheesecloth is too porous - too much filtrate gets through, and too much splashing through when filling. Need to find a better material. And maybe brew more of my sake-beer (in the boxes). For next season.
What to do with excess Brasilian sake, particularly if you don't want to drink any more of it? I will be following up on a suggestion to use it for braising, but seeing as I had a fair amount to get through, I thought I'd attempt to improve upon the listless/lifeless versions I tried in Brasil. I'll say that this wasn't much of an improvement... as then, it tasted of most of the ingredients: lime, mint, & kiwi, muddled and mashed with my pilão, topped with Azuma Kirin over crushed ice. Couldn't really much make out the sake, not that I really wanted to taste this sake anymore, but I don't see how you could over all the other stuff... maybe needs a very strongly rice-y sake?
A first taste, and, well... let's just say that I'm learning. It's got all kinds of texture, big and loud, I think the genshu muroka shiboritate side of things has shut out the nama-ness, but, there is a definite taste suggestive of, postively, yamahai, or negatively, hineka. But, since this was not yamahai, and since I know what good sake tastes like straight from the presses, either this has to settle hard, or there was too much light available to my fermenters, even in the dark recesses of my basement.
From Brasil's 
Yet another trip that incorporated both exercise and the gaining of weight. First stop after deplaning, 
Although, yes, we ate the famous oysters, this local dish, berbigão, was definitely the highlight - literally hundreds, maybe thousands of cockles, stewed with potatoes and served with rice, farofa (powdered manioc), and also what I can best describe as a manioc-based poi. How DO they open all those cockles though? Hard work. Delicious!
Big avocado! Must be the humidity/gravity/timezone.
Biker's repast of fried polenta, palm hearts salad, and caipirinha.
Rice fields near Ilhota. I don't know what the breed of rice is in this area, but it was very tasty.
Bananas near Luiz Alves. Acres, and acres of banana plantations.
I'd always imagined chicken coops to be smellier.
Oddly, I enjoyed the Peruvian food better at the restaurant literally around the corner from my friend's place than I did in Peru... well, I exaggerate a little, but... and yes, this is what you think it is.
Porto Belo may not be up to much, but it does host some fantastic baked goods.
How did it take a week to actually eat some proper beef? Our celebratory post-cyclethon dinner.
Washed down with some surprisingly decent Brasilian wine. Not particularly interesting, but not bad, not "fake", not aspiring to any international stylings, which was nice.
Moqueca, Brasilian fish stew. The coconut milk and corander had me a bit confused, with the right level of heat this could have passed for Thai (but brought back to center with some local chili concoctions.)
And finally, last meal, a family barbecue, churrasca, in the built-in fire pit... must get me one of these.
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