Big Sur Bakery Cookbook - Michelle Wojtowicz [50]
About 10 minutes before serving, slice the peaches and put them in a bowl. Sprinkle with the sugar and let them macerate (the peaches will start to release their juices).
To serve, remove the terrine from the loaf pan by inverting the pan onto a plate. While holding the plastic wrap liner, pull the loaf pan off. Rinse a chef’s knife under hot running water, and cut 1-inch-thick slices of the terrine. Serve each slice with some of the macerated peaches.
Photographs by Sara Remington
September
Gary, Bacchus
The Hospitality Business
Profile: Mike, Host
Roasted Beets with Beet Greens and Goat-Cheese Crostini
Heirloom Tomato Salad with Microgreens, Burrata, and Balsamic-Basil Dressing
Grilled Prime Rib Steak with Red Wine Sauce
Grilled Mackerel
Apple Upside-Down Cake
Photographs by Sara Remington
Gary, Bacchus
We met Gary Pisoni because of wine. Food Network was shooting a show featuring his wine, and for some reason Michelle got invited to make a pizza in Gary’s little wood-fired oven out in his vineyard. But our real connection developed because he and Mike both love studying astrology. They became quick friends, and one night in September, just before the harvest, we arranged to have a dinner at his vineyard. We’d bring the food, he’d provide the wine, and we’d have an excuse to see what life is like on the other side of the mountains.
Gary’s vineyard, 1,300 feet above sea level in the San Lucia Highlands, is basically due east from Big Sur—but since there’s no direct road over the mountains, it takes over an hour and a half to drive there. And you need to know where you’re going—there’s no sign at the side of the road, just a number on a telephone poll and a series of dirt roads winding up toward the vineyard itself. But if you don’t get lost in the rows of pinot noir, eventually you’ll reach a small waterfall and a wooden deck that Gary built, complete with an outdoor bar, a huge grill, and a wood-fired oven.
We invited about twenty friends and brought huge platters of food, arriving early enough in the afternoon to have a chance to tour the vineyard and still have plenty of time to cook. Gary, always eager to show off his vineyards, wasted no time in breaking open a few bottles of wine and herding us into his 1969 open-air Jeep.
That’s when things got crazy. Gary is frequently called a “maverick” when people write profiles about him, but he drives more like a madman. One hand on the wheel, one hand gesturing in the air, and one foot firmly on the gas pedal, he roars along the steep dirt roads of his vineyard at speeds so fast that you have to hold on so you don’t bounce out. He loves slamming to a stop next to particularly succulent-looking bunches of grapes, reaching out to grab a handful, and offering it to the people in the Jeep. But there’s no delicate sampling when Gary is involved. “You’ve gotta take monkey bites!” he instructs, chomping into the grapes and spitting the seeds out through his teeth. Before you can manage your own bite, Gary’s taken off again through the vineyard.
Photographs by Sara Remington
His parents—Eddie and Jane, both vegetable farmers—bought the land in 1979 to use as a horse and cattle ranch, but when Gary saw the soil, he became obsessed with pinot noir. Despite the fact that he couldn’t find any water, he started planting grapes in 1982, trucking water up from the valley. After five dry wells, he hit water in 1991, and he and his sons, Mark and Jeff, released their first batch of Pisoni Estate Pinot Noir in 1998. Now they sell grapes to about eight other winemakers, with all their deals brokered on a handshake. Their wine is revered by serious pinot noir enthusiasts around the world.
When people returned from Gary’s vineyard tour, they needed a few minutes to settle their stomachs. Eventually we all flocked to the cave Gary had created a short way uphill from the deck, embedded into a hillside