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Wasted Words in Fort Wayne: nobody wants to read my poems, but that doesn’t stop me from writing them…

Iâve started writing poetryânot in a, âoh, this feels like a nice thing to do with my timeâ sort of wayâitâs more like, âif I donât rip these words from my brain and condemn them to a physical existence, I will go insane and take you with me.â The trouble with this is that nobody wants to read my poetry. I understand; at least, I think that I do. Poetry and wine have something in common. Society has put these simple things on pedestals to the point that the average person now feels intimated by them. This is so silly: neither thing should scare you away. The only thing you need to know to enjoy poetry or wine is what you like.
If you like something, then itâs good. If you donât, then thatâs okay too. You donât have to know histories, techniques, or the toil that goes into crafting something in order to enjoy it. You can enjoy movies, music, cherry pie, automobiles, and pinball machines without being especially knowledgeable about any of these subjects. Poetry and wine should be no different and ought to be approached with the same laissez-faire attitudeâunless, of course, youâre someone who is particularly interested in poetry or wine. (Then, by all means, drink up all the knowledge that you possibly can until your curiosity is quenched.) All Iâm saying is: you donât have to learn how to make a pinball machine before you can enjoy playing pinball. Poetry and wine are not nearly as serious as society has painted them to be. Approach both haphazardly, with little caution, and please by all meansâlaugh about them.
I began my poetic journey by writing a series of poems inspired by Taco Bell. I self published a short poetry zine called Love MĂĄs: Poems from the Drive Thru. The process of completing this project felt so fulfilling, comfortable, juicy, and good for me that, from it, a new idea was born: Wasted Words. As the weather warms, Iâll be frequenting local bars to sip and write the evening awayâultimately crafting a series of poems partly inspired by local watering holes. For each bar I visit, a poetry zine will be released: both in physical form and as an electronic download. Wasted Words at Home is the test pilot for this format. To craft Wasted Words at Home, I did everything I plan to do at the bar–but from the comfort of my own home. I had a martini and chased it with a few glasses of Clot 13 Creature 2024; a natty red wine made with minimal intervention and bursting with juicy red fruit and a hint of herb. The result? A gripping series of fifteen poems written over the course of a single evening and four adult beveragesâin other wordsâa small, poetic exploration of my monkey brain as I stumbled stupidly from sober to sloshed.
Iâm really proud of what Iâve made recently. Iâm really proud of how Iâve been spending my time. But, I would be lying if I didnât admit that the lack of immediate support has been discouraging. For my first zine, fewer people requested to purchase a copy than had initially showed interest in the project. Thatâs fine. I get it. Weâre all struggling right now. (If I had money in the bank and no credit card debt, Iâd just give all my words away for freeâbut, sadly, weâve all got bills to pay until we abolish capitalism.) To adapt and make my art more accessible for everyone, I came up with the idea of pay-what-you-can digital downloads. You can pay as little as $1 for a downloadable copy of my poetry zines. Genuinely, I thought that more people would be excited by this option. Instead, Iâm sitting here wondering why Iâm not worth a dollar. This gloomy sentiment kind of leads in perfectly to one of the poems that I wrote for Wasted Words at Home:
A Writer Asks to be Loved
Everyone loves a writer
until a writer asks to be loved
and then itâs, âOh, not the âLâ word again!â
and âjust because moon rhymes with June
doesnât mean we should be together.â
Everyone loves a writer
until theyâre made the eternal muse
and every poem spewed
is a thinly veiled nod to youâ
“You paint me as a clichĂ©,
Is my nose really that big?
How could you be so cruelâ
to tell all the world
exactly what I said and did?â
Everyone loves a writer
until theyâre staring back at you in the mirrorâ
“Not this horrid face againâ
Iâm getting older every day
and all Iâve got to show for it is words
that nobody wants to readâ
Is that the reason
you donât love me?âIf you think that poetry zines are neat, if you like supporting struggling writers, if you occasionally like the words that I write, or maybe you just like me as a personâyou can pay as much as you like (or as little as $1) for my poetry zines at my little online poem shop. As of the date this is being written, thereâs only two downloadable items. However, I have big plans! Check back in August and Iâm sure there will be a whole bunch more for you to choose from. If I still have your attention, I think that probably means that you enjoy my writing, so hereâs one more poem for your troubles:
Too
I love too muchâ
too quickly, tooo soon.
My heart is tooooo all in,
my lips are toooo all over him.
I speak too much,
but say tooooo little.
Iâm too easily seen,
but toooo hard to understand.
Iâm too exposed, too rawâ
taking up tooooooo much spaceâ
too sensitive, tooooo sappyâ
Too quick to spread my legs for a man whoâs never
Too tall, or too bright, or too handsome, or too kind.
But Iâm too much.
So I get too drunkâ
Until Iâm sputtering at the moon asking if it
would like for me to share my Oâs with itâ
Apparently, I have toooooooooo many. -
Daylily Estates Tasting Room: capture ephemeral things and bottle them like magic…

If you arenât hype for Daylily, you arenât paying enough attention. Iâve already written two blogs about these wine wizards and their mission to change how people think and feel about local wineâHoosier wine, in particular. Hint: Iâm a fan. You would need to drive for hours if not days to find anybody even half as invested in biodynamic winemaking. So, hereâs a third blog about them. The first was about visiting their property within the first year of their groundbreaking, which turned out to be all too fitting a word. The second was about a wine pairing dinner collaboration with Rune, Fort Wayneâs favorite neighborhood eatery. This one is about my trip to their currently wine-club-exclusive tasting events. Full disclosure, the wine club is no longer accepting new members and the tasting room is not yet open to the public, but thatâs coming soon! For the time being, you might be able to get a sneak peak if you schedule an order for pickup at their location. If you just want to have a great conversation about natural wines, you can find them most Saturdays at Fort Wayneâs YLNI Farmersâ Market. Ask your local watering hole whether they have any Daylily wines until they say yes. Oh, and if after you finish reading this, you want to know more about what Iâve had to say about them, you are permittedâencouraged, evenâto go dig through my back issues and catch up or even just refresh.
So why do I want you to get on board the Daylily hypetrain? Thereâs a ton of reasons but a lot of them boil down to one core tenet that pervades every sip: Daylily isnât trying to make you forget where these wines come from. Theyâre not trying to make French Champagne or even a Californian Cabâtheir wines are distinctly Midwestern and theyâre proud of their heritage. A visit to their tasting room does not ask you to suspend your disbelief and imagine that youâve left Indiana; au contraire, the experience will ferry you to a more beautiful, more peaceful, and more welcoming Indiana than you have ever known. Somehow, the entire experience is simultaneously transportative and groundingâan accurate snapshot of this exact moment in time and space which nonetheless elevates the wines, the growers, the makers, and even the sippers and sharers.
Before I moved here, I didnât think much of Indianaâit was less of a state and more of a black hole in my mind. Honestly, I saw it as a bitter angry red state without much to offer anyoneâjust cheap stale beer and sticky dive bar floors. (And not even the really fun kind of dive barâthe kind your uncle would frequent and talk sports or politics to bored old men with their eyes glazed over.) Ask me what Indiana tastes like and Iâll have to ask a clarifying question. Do you want to know what I thought it tasted like before I experienced Daylily or after? Before, I might have reached for impractical pork tenderloin sandwiches that donât make much sense and cloyingly sweet wines with notes of previously chewed bubblegum or Pinesolâlaced with Glyphosate. But now I know, even on bad days, that Indiana has more to offer than I previously believedâand youâll find the kindest, softest, most considerate version of Indiana at Daylily Estates. Traipse the loamy earth where their young vines persevere despite the circumstances of reality and harsh Midwest winters. Have you ever thought about what clay tastes like? Earthy. Dusty. A flowerpot wet with rain; nothing like cleaning products or bubblegum from the underside of a table.
Imagine soil, harvest, weather, time, intellect, and love all marrying together in a beautiful symphony and then fermented until itâs all quaffably consumable. At Daylily, they capture these ephemeral things and bottle themâlike magic. The wines they craft donât just tell a story. That would be far too simple. They are more like a bookmark on a specific page of a specific chapterâhighlighting a favorite paragraph where the words are perfect, the timing is just right, the topography is lush and beautiful, thereâs a reassuring promise of a happy ending in sight, and suddenly life in Indiana makes complete sense. These wines arenât just âMidwest Nice.â They are kind, soft, considerate, dripping with good intentions andâperhaps most importantlyâlove. And thatâs because the people behind these wines are not just âMidwest Nice.â They understand that hospitality is so much more than a handshake and a smile while exchanging cash for product. I want you to try all of Daylilyâs wines; because I truly believe thereâs something for everyone in their repertoire and that each and every bottle they produce may well be everything to someone.
But if you really care about wine, I encourage you to do the following: go buy a bottle of Daylilyâs Brianna PĂ©t Nat as well as a bottle of their newer, non-sparkling Brianna. Pour yourself a small glass of each. Be a bit pretentious: give them a swirl, a really good sniff or three, and sip them like youâre a scientist about to discover a new galaxy in the droplets of these wines. Then we can talk about how one winemaker managed to craft two vastly contrasting wines with the same grape: one super lush, playful, vibrant, and juicily ripe, the other exquisite, elegant, and underripe in the most refined way imaginable.
While Daylily strives to create biodynamic winesâclean wines for those who donât know the lingoâthey ardently shy away from greenwashing their brand. This doesnât stop the tasting room from feeling like a cozy, quaint, naturally designed third space. With a maximum capacity of twelve people, the tasting room at Daylily Estates will never be an overly crowded, loud, or impersonal experience. The dark blue limewashed walls, hand-crafted wood tabletops, and lovingly built limestone bar create an intimate, earthy, warm backdrop for sipping these regeneratively farmed wines that are birthed into existence with an abundance of TLC. Though unfinished at this date, and only open to wine club members for the time being, the tasting room is giving vibes of Bar Chenin on a slow night. For those who havenât been to this recently James Beard nominated Detroit hotspotâitâs the fucking hippest wine bar and itâs almost unimaginably tiny. When packed with a shitload of people, itâs a party spotâbut what about when itâs not busy? (If itâs ever not busy.) Daylily Estates tasting room is the answer for people like me who appreciate the warmth, artistry, and vibes of hip little spots that prioritize really good wine without shirking on ambiance but hate being anywhere thatâs too peopley. Though they currently only have a small tasting room, there are big plans for an additional dining area, landscaping and patio, snacks from Rowdy Rooster, and even eventually a full kitchenâbecause whatâs a little sip without a little nosh to go with it. The hope is that, come August, theyâll be able to open their doors to the general public. Letâs all mark our calendars and keep our fingers crossed.
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Olive a Good Cocktail: but a great cocktail is better…

Plonk is back and Iâve got three very important words for you. They’re not, âI love you,â or âIâm sorry, baby,â or even âmy ex sucks.â When combined, these might actually be the most beautiful three words in the English language: chocolate covered olives–or Cholives, as per Copper Spoonâs social media description of their newest cocktails. From the weird and wonderful mind of Ryan Wahl, bartender extraordinaire and olive lover, come two new olive-centric cocktails. The dirtiest martini on planet earth walked so that Ryanâs cocktail creations could run. Your ex-boyfriend who pretends heâs a knowledgeable mixologist but relies heavily on ChatGPT for advice could neverrrr.
I made my bestie drink the Green Lagoon; and he adored it. Itâs got acidified apple, coconut, green olive, catchaca, aquavit, and Monkey Shoulder Blended Scotch. Typically, Iâm not a girl who likes scotch and a fruity drink could pass me by and I wouldnât shed a tear. Did I steal a sip or three from my bestie? Hell yes I did. I would say even if Scotch isnât your go-to bevvy of choice, this might still be a solid pick for you. All of the fruity flavors (olive is a fruit, technically) amplify the Scotchâs inherent fruity notes; like orange zest. This is an easy sip and could please adventurous or filthy fucking casual sippers alike.
As for me, I have a new love: the Shadow Mountain. Ryan spends basically all of his time smoking green olives and dipping them in chocolate for this cocktail. A good use of his time? I say, emphatically: yes. The Shadow Mountain is a combo of Zucca Rabarbaro, Balcones Rye and Pikesville Rye, umami and chocolate bitters, smoked green olive, and then finished with a chocolate covered smoked green olive. You might be a little icked out by the idea of olives and chocolate. Trust: I was also kind of blown away by the pairing. But, letâs get real, olives are technically fruit. Fruit and chocolate isnât weird at all. Salty and sweet isnât weird at all. And, according to Ryan, Copper Spoon used to have some sort of dish that involved olives and cacao nibs on the menu–so this isnât even the first time that this unique flavor pairing has appeared within the walls of Copper Spoon. The chocolate notes in this drink are insanely decadent without the drink ever really tasting âsweet.â If anyone wants to take me out for one of these drinks, I donât really care who you are as long as youâre buying. Itâs sooooo good.
I would be remiss if I didnât at least mention my second drink of the evening even though it didnât have a single olive in it. Weâve certainly all got an ex-boyfriend who insists that heâs nice–which somehow always stands as proof that he is not, in fact, nice. For these situations, you need a little drink called Gaslight Me. (Because your ex was good at that, right?) A mix of Tequila, Boozy Banana ice cream, Cinnamon, Pathfinder, and Averna: this cocktail comes with the âfajita effect,â if you know what I mean. I ordered one: then saw at least two more come out. The people next to me asked me about what I had ordered. Why the attention? Well, for starters, it comes out in a smoking cloche, soâŠdrama! But, perhaps even more importantly, it doesnât look like a cocktail. It looks like a tiny, elegant ice cream sundae. I ate the whole thing with a spoon. But damnâŠthe flavors. The texture. The theatrics. Whoever is buying me my next Shadow Mountain might have to spring for a Gaslight Me, too–because I think I might love them both equally.
Now tell me you missed me.
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Three Little Pigs Charcuterie: build the house with the best apĂ©ro hourâŠ

Your home is lovely. Itâs filled with your stuffâand more importantly than thatâitâs filled with your memories. You have a sofa. You have a few books. Maybe a painting or a fruit basket. You have meals eaten with people you cherish. The spot on the carpet from where your best friend spilled Merlot; perhaps you donât love the stain that it left, but youâll always cherish the memories of how you laughed and laughed that evening. You have lightbulbs, trinkets, and toilet paper. But you know what your house is missing? Itâs not a Pottery Barn rug, or an eames chair, or a swimming pool: itâs apĂ©ro hour.
The word “apĂ©ro” is short for “apĂ©ritif,” which comes from the Latin “aperire,” meaning “to open”. This is because, in French tradition, apĂ©ro is always the opening of a wonderful evening. It is the time of pre-dinner drinks and snacks. Shared with friends and family, apĂ©ro hour symbolises the winding down of the day. Work is done. Daylight is fading. Our shoulders relax. We breathe a sigh of relief and sip something splendid. To enjoy apĂ©ro is to acknowledge that nothing more can be achieved this day but pleasureâhedonists rejoice! ApĂ©ro is our playground.
Though this tradition is inarguably French, itâs certainly snuck its way into other cultures. Even Americans (as uncouth as we may be) are starting to embrace the apĂ©ro. Maybe itâs because apĂ©ro hour is the logical antithesis of hustle cultureâone of our greatest cultural failings. Perhaps youâre feeling stunned, stupefied, or even mystified by what Iâm asserting. I can hear your contention already: if the point of apĂ©ro is relaxation, wouldnât hosting one simply put more work on my plate? To this I say, âYou have much to learn, young grasshopper.â The whole point is making it easy-breezy, effortless, and trĂšs Ă©lĂ©ganteâbut never stuffy or overly formal. Frankie may have said ârelax,â but apĂ©ro hour insists it more fervently.
So, what is served during apĂ©ro? Traditionally, youâll have lower ABV drinks like wines, beers, and even some cocktails. Aperol Spritz, Negroni, and Kir Royale are all popular apĂ©ro hour sipsâbut nobody is going to be angry if you serve up a martini. To nibble, weâll need finger foods like cruditĂ©, cured meats, cheeses, olives, and crackers. The main objective of the apĂ©ro hour is socialization: noms, noshes, and nips take a back seat to the primary objective. Want to take things a step further? Ask yourself this question: am I crafting an apĂ©ro hour or an apĂ©ro dinatoire? ApĂ©ro is for light fare and drinks. Easy, accessible, and a delicious predecessor to any dinner. But in the heat of summerâwhen itâs too hot to move your body, let alone turn on the ovenâyou might consider serving the apĂ©ro dinatoire. Often served in lieu of dinner, the apĂ©ro dinatoire is Franceâs answer to picky-bits in the garden on a hot summer evening. Take everything that youâd traditionally find served during an apĂ©ro hour, but add tartines and shellfish. Donât panic if you donât know what a tartine is. Itâs okay, baby; not knowing something is the first step to learning something new. A tartine is basically just a fancy word for bread with stuff on it. If youâve eaten bruschetta or avocado toast, youâve basically already had a tartine. Toppings can be savory or sweet, the possibilities are endless.
As Americans, apĂ©ro may feel foreign to us. Perhaps you wish to embrace this tradition, but donât know where to start. Like a Christian kid who just got invited to their friend’s house to celebrate Rosh Hashanah: youâll need a guide to this new experience. I volunteer to be your sherpa. In order to build the best apĂ©ro hour, you simply need the right tools in your toolbox. Once youâve amassed the correct tools, the construction becomes easy, effortless, and oh-so-satisfying. In the spirit of keeping things simple, I recommend finding a single company that basically specializes in all-things-apĂ©ro. Youâre asking yourself whether such a company could possibly provide a person with the prospective proponents of a perfect apĂ©ro hour. My sweet summer child, allow me to introduce you to Three Little Pigs Charcuterie. They recently sent me a box of goodies so that I could host an epic apĂ©roâthough this could easily have been enhanced into an apĂ©ro dinatoire. These are all the Three Little Pigs products you could possibly need for an epic apĂ©ro hour. Pick and choose to cultivate something that fits your personal taste. Ultimately, the best apĂ©ro hour is the one that makes you the happiest.
Charcuterie Trioâthe most basic tool in your arsenal and your best friend when building your apĂ©ro hour spread. You can order this online or grab it last minute at your local Kroger. You donât have to put thought into what charcuterie to provide, because Three Little Pigs has literally done all of the work for you. The trio includes prosciutto, soppressata, and pepperoni. These salty little bites of meat will satisfy adventurous eaters and finicky pickers alike. The best part? This is truly an âopen the package and transfer to a pretty plateâ scenario. Effort is overrated.
Sliced Saucisson Secâhonestly, one of my favorite bites of the evening. I think picky eaters will still enjoy this, but itâs definitely a slightly elevated charcuterie offering. This super-thinly sliced pork sausage has garlic, spices, and a bit of swiss chard culminating in a uniquely French flavor. (Put any leftovers on a sandwich. Youâre welcome.) Similarly to the charcuterie trio, this is another situation where all you have to do is open the packaging and transfer the saucisson sec to a pretty plate or serving board. Whatâs the common refrain? Effort is overrated.
Belleforte Alpine-Style Cheeseâthis 100% cowâs milk cheese hails from the RhĂŽne-Alpes region of France. I will be honest with you, when I unwrapped this cheese and began cutting it for my apĂ©ro hour, my partner was in the kitchen and asked, âWhat smells like feet?â Is the aroma pungent? Yes. Could it be off-putting for some people? Perhaps. Will your guests notice the bouquet of this cheese if youâre serving it outside? Nope, probably not. Itâs the perfect cheese for your apĂ©ro hour because itâs a little fruity, a little sweet, a little nutty, and ultra creamy while still holding together well enough to be cut into cute little bite-sized pieces. Snack it between bites of charcuterie or with a handful of walnuts. Itâs the cheese your guests may have never heard of, but will definitely ask for it to be included at the next apĂ©ro hour.
Agour Ossau-Iraty Cheeseâthis 100% sheep milk cheese is less challenging than the Belleforte. With virtually no aroma, the Agour Ossau-Iraty pairs well with most things. Firm yet creamy, rich and nutty, and a fantastic accompaniment to a glass of Bordeaux or any big, red wine. This cheese gets along well with everyone, making it the perfect addition to any apĂ©ro hour. Turn any leftovers into grilled cheese.
Bloc de Foie de Canardâmy absolute favorite, but less beloved by my friends. It comes down to texture. Some people prefer something with more chew. I am not one of those people. Give me ultra-creamy fattened duck liver to spread on toast and Iâm a very, very, very happy girl. Three Little Pigs keeps their ingredients simple. This ultra flavorful foie is made of fattened duck liver, Sauternes, cream, salt, Cognac, sugar, and spices. It is traditional in every sense of the word. It is elegant, indulgent, andâin my humble opinionâthe best way to elevate your apĂ©ro hour. Will everyone agree with me? No, perhaps notâbut those people are wrong.
Rillettes de Canardâto keep things fair and honest, this was my least favorite apĂ©ro hour offering, but it was the most beloved by my friends. Do I like these duck rillettes? Yes I do. Iâve eaten it before and I will eat it againâbut I could, frankly, take it or leave it. This is effectively confit-style duck; slow cooked into succulent, soft ribbons. This is the MVP for those who crave texture in a way that Foie does not provide.
Mousse de Canard au Foie Grasâa terrine that could be described as âthe best of both worlds.â A heavenly combination of duck Foie Gras and duck meat are subtly sweetened with grapes, raisins, and Sauternes. The flavor of this is unmatched. The only potential downside of this delightful dish? Itâs topped with aspic. For the uninitiated, Iâll politely describe aspic as meat jelly. Itâs just a thin layer on top. Some people love it but many do not. The saving grace? If you find aspic to be challenging, you can simply remove the layer from the top of this terrine and enjoy the Mousse de Canard au Foie Gras that lies beneath.
Mousse du PĂ©rigordâif duck isnât your thing, thatâs no problem. The Mousse du PĂ©rigord is the piĂšce de rĂ©sistance of any truly elegant apĂ©ro dinatoire. I am of the mind that, if nothing else, this should be on your table. This creamy and decadent combination of chicken and turkey liver, black truffle, and sherry is certain to impress your guests. I could very honestly eat an entire container of this by myselfâand I very well may do so in the near future. The second-best thing about apĂ©ro dinatoire is the leftovers. (The first-best thing about it is enjoying time, drinks, and good food with good friends without turning on a single kitchen appliance.) A sneaky bit of leftover truffled pĂątĂ© to enjoy late at night on your sofa or perhaps on the kitchen floor by the haunting light of your refrigeratorâthatâs just a bonus.
Petits Toastsâunfortunately, I canât tell you from personal experience if these taste good, because theyâre not gluten-free so Iâm unable to enjoy them. But you know who seemed to enjoy them very much? My friends. These gorgeous, perfectly shaped little toasts provide the most apropos vehicle for delivering pĂątĂ© to your gaping maw in a dignified fashion. Flawlessly crisp right out of the package, thereâs nothing for you to do but plate them up. Without having eaten one myself, I still strongly endorse these toasts. Your friends will thank you for providing them.
Olives Vertes Lucquesâsure you can buy olives anywhere, but why would you when you can buy these olives. With pits intact, providing the absolute best textural experience, these salty, sexy, little green babies are imported from France. Why choose French olives when Mediterranean olives are quelle authentique? Because weâre having a French snacktime and if Iâve told you once, Iâve told you a thousand times: what grows together goes together. Grown in sunny Provence, the Olives Vertes Lucques have an unusual crescent shape and a perfect flavor to compliment a gin martini.
âTraditionalâ Cornichons – there are three varieties of Cornichon produced by Three Little Pigs. The Cornichons Ă l’amĂ©ricaine are basically their version of a bread and butter pickle. Delicious for snacking, but maybe not the most authentic pick for apĂ©ro. We snacked on their Traditional Cornichons and used them to make excellent martinis. Whether utilizing gin or vodka, these customary, teeny-tiny, French pickles make delicious cocktails. But, if youâre feeling a little spicy, Iâd also recommend using their Cornichons Piquants in your next martini. Iâm sure weâre all well aware that the drink trend of Summer 2025 is putting frozen jalapeños in your Sauvy B. I donât mean to be rude, but itâs a bit pedestrian and overplayed at this point. Elevate your game with a Spicy Cornichon Martini. Youâre anything but basic, so craft a cocktail thatâs as interesting as you are.
Are you overwhelmed? Did I give you too much to chew on? Itâs okay, you can relax. Thatâs what apĂ©ro is all about. You donât have to remember every line of data Iâve dutifully delivered to your doorstep. Once you get some apĂ©ro hours in you will start to form your own opinions of whatâs right for your apĂ©ro. But if itâs your first time crafting an apĂ©ro hour for you and yours,â thereâs only one thing you need to remember: thereâs no need to huff and puff and blow a bunch of time and money down at your local multi-billion dollar grocery chain. Three Little Pigs can take you in and teach you how to build your apĂ©ro tradition from the ground up.
Oh, and one last thing. You can order your apĂ©ro materials at their site, 3pigs.com and use the discount code PLONKANDPLEASURE for 10% off your entire order. Donât say I never gave you anything. -
Rune x Daylily Estates: everything is sunlight…

âWine is sunlight held together by water.â Solid quote. Thanks, Galileo. Itâs poetic yet scientific, reverent and kind of cheeky at the same time, but did you know that he dropped even more knowledge in the next sentence? It might not fit on a cross stitch but check it: âThe light of a sun, with all those planets revolving around it and dependent on it, can still ripen a bunch of grapes as if it had nothing else in the universe to do.â Encapsulated in the picturesque aging brick walls of Rune, I found myself dwelling on this quote amongst the clatter of a busy dining room full of conversations, praise, clinking of glasses, and gulps. Last April, I was afforded the privilege of visiting Daylily Estates. Amongst the young vines of this infant vineyard, I met three amazing gentlemen who, together, craft wines that changed the way I think about our regionâs capacity for exceptional winemaking. From my first sip, I have always felt certain these wines will root deep in our communityâbecoming ever vitalâand go on to grow and branch far beyond the small reaches of Northeastern Indiana. Iâve long dreamt of putting Daylily into words in a way that will truly do their wines justice: but I think Galileo beat me to the punch. However, Iâve got something on Galileoâbecause he never got to indulge in a Rune x Daylily Estates wine pairing dinner. Somehow, without ever really knowing, I always knew we would end up here: the intersection of low-intervention, environmentally conscious local wines, and produce forward, forage-featured, fine dining cuisine. The wines of Daylily Estates and the food of Rune belong together. It just makes sense.
The first course was Welsh Rarebit on rye toast with bone marrow. As this was the only plate of the evening that wasnât naturally gluten free, Chef Sean subbed my rye toast out for celery root. It was bomb to say the very least. My bestie, who was able to dine with me this evening, took a bite of my celery root-centric Welsh Rarebit and got a little jealous. Was it possibly even better than the regular dish? Whoâs to say. All I know is, I live for moments with frico cheese. Those crispy bits are absolutely sensational. This plate was paired with Daylily Estates Brianna PĂ©t-Nat. This is, I believe, the first PĂ©t-Nat I tried from Daylily last year and itâs no secret that I fell in love with them at first sip. Brianna is a grape that tends to give more tropical fruit notes and this PĂ©t-Nat captures that sort of bright pineapple fruitiness perfectly. With lively bubbles and a strong nose, this vivacious wine paired beautifully with the rarebit and really aided in lifting what could otherwise have been a heavy start to the meal. They set a high bar out of the gate.The second plate of the evening was somehow nothing like I expected but also exceeded all expectations. Gorgeously charred sweet potato was dressed with maple and an exquisite carrot romesco. Spoiler alert: this may have been my favorite plate of the evening. The color and texture of the sweet potato was beyond reproachâthe sort of perfection one only dreams about achieving. The carrot romesco, a hefty artistic schmeer along the side of the dish, was almost too complex in flavor for me to describe with words. Iâm afraid I donât know how to do it justice. It evades me. The sweetness of carrot but with the additional brightness of vinegar; a complex and rich dance for which the English language does not yet have the right words. I found myself in a sea of varying guttural, animalistic sounds that all translate to the same prelinguistic concept: yum. What a mantra. To pair, Daylily Estates Delaware PĂ©t-Nat. If their Brianna PĂ©t-Nat is the fun party girl who dances on the table and makes friends everywhere she goes, the Delaware PĂ©t-Nat is the girl who holds her hair in the bathroom and makes sure she gets home safely. With subdued aromas of clementine and yellow apple, the Delaware PĂ©t-Nat isnât showy or boisterous but still makes its presence known with subtle elegance. The Grace Kelly of PĂ©t-Nats. Utterly sippable, this wine served as a dashing counterpart to what, in my opinion, may have been the best plate of the evening.
Next, Chef Sean entered his beige plate era: which Iâm not mad about. Beige food is usually delicious and, frankly, beautiful in its own way. A hash brown topped with chicken hearts lounging in a beige sea of beurre blancâyum. This was my first time eating chicken heart and, honestly, I neither liked nor disliked it. I found the texture just a little tougher than I might have preferred. I struggled to get a bite of chicken heart and a bite of hash brown onto my fork at the same time. In terms of flavor, this dish was a 10/10. Honestly, if it had been anything less, I would have been bummed outâespecially because this is the plate that paired with what is, perhaps, my favorite Daylily Estates wine: Catawba PĂ©t-Nat. Itâs no secret that I love Catawba. Itâs also no secret that I love PĂ©t-Nat. Pair the two together and holy guacamole, Batman! Iâve died and gone to a better place. (A place with Catawba PĂ©t-Nat and an endless supply of delicious beige foods. Iâm not coming back. Forward my mail.) With lush notes of Strawberry, Watermelon Jolly Ranchers, and a delicate fizz: this pretty pink wine is like an ideal accessory. That is to say, it goes with just about anything. It elevates whatever itâs with. But, to boot, itâs kind of stellar alone, too. Dare I say, sheâs the Swiss Army Knife of PĂ©t-Nats if Phyllis Nefler of Troop Beverly Hills had designed a Swiss Army Knife. (If you donât get this reference, I feel sorry for you. I also feel sorry for me, because it was a really good reference and I wasted it on you.)
Our penultimate course was pork belly with risotto, and a sort of turmeric pickled celery root. This plate fights scrappily to hold the coveted spot of âbest plate of the evening.â Try as it might, Iâm not sure it will dethrone the sweet potato dish: but damn, that pork belly was succulent. Perfectly crisp outside and utterly luscious interior: Chef Sean and his brilliant team can do no wrong in my books. This is one of those optimal examinations of salt, fat, and acid playing gorgeously together to create something greater than the sum of their parts. It only made sense to sip Daylily Estates Traminette alongside this radically delicious dish. I hate to quote myself, but Iâm going to do it anyway. I once wrote, âYâall, I donât know what you already know, but Traminette is the state grape of Indiana. I had yet to find a Traminette that fired me up until Daylily Estates showed up and said, âBet.â Itâs our fucking state grape, people. We should be producing wine that actually does it justice. We have so much to offer. We simply have to put in the effort to create something worthwhile. Daylily Estates gets it.â I said it. I meant it. I stand by it. However, I take the other thing back: I donât hate to quote myself, itâs a pretty dope quote. This Traminette is so unlike other Traminettes Iâve tried in Indiana. My bestie and I got into a discussion of one that we tried once that tasted like Pine-Sol. The flavor is burned into my tastebuds and I donât mean that as a compliment. All I can really say of Daylilyâs Traminette is that its flavors are delicate yet complex: slightly floral, slightly fruity, a little spice, and perhaps thereâs a delicate touch of pineâor maybe thatâs just a bad dream. Either way, I went home from the tasting dinner, retrieved my bottle of Daylily Estates Traminette from my wine rack, chilled it down until it was time to pour myself a glass and get writing. Iâm currently still sipping it. This is what Indiana is supposed to taste like.I was nervous to try the final course of the eveningâand I suspect I wasnât the only one. Pairing Daylily Estates 2024 Nouveau with a PB&J-inspired dessert didnât seem like an obviously smart choice to me. Clearly, this is why Chef Sean has been nominated for the James Beard award twice now and I have not been nominated for anything ever. Peanut, crĂšme diplomat, and blackberry created what I can say is, without any doubt or hesitation, the best iteration of a PB&J Iâve ever enjoyed. Hot take, kiddos: I hate PB&J. Itâs a dumb concept and I avoid it at any cost. PB&J lovers, live your best lifeâno tea, no shade, no pink lemonade, and also no PB&J for me specifically unless itâs a repeat of this scrumptious little treat. Though Nouveau is ultra cherry forward, heavily featuring the MarĂ©chal Foch grape, its other dark and red berries played nicely with this dessert. Was I worried about the tannins against the sweetness of this final dish? Perhaps. Should I have been? Unequivocally, nope! The ultra creamy crĂšme diplomat really aided in smoothing out the tannins of this young red wine. Iâve talked a big game about my favorite dishes of the evening, but this is actually the pairing that Iâd have again right this very moment if Chef Sean DMed me after their final seating and told me that he had an extra plate of it left over or something. I mean, a girl can dream. But for real: I would rush there in my pajamas. I do not care how cold it is outside. I want more, more, more. And now that Iâm really thinking about it, this stands true for all of the plates and pairings of this evening. Thereâs nothing I wouldnât do again, happily.
By the time I left Rune, the sun had gone to bed and been fast asleep for several hours. The temperature was cut in half, the air was bitter, and the only light outside was from streetlights, passing cars, and kindred spirits whose Christmas lights are still up three weeks into the new year. Even though my body was cold and shivering right up until I finally got into my house long enough to start warming up, somehow there was still some kind of warmth deep inside me that hadnât faded and wonât fade anytime soon. Itâs a warmth and a brightness that is so very vital in the winter months. You already know what it is. Remember what Galileo said? âWine is sunlight held together by water.â But something feels off about that quote here. Itâs not complete. Not because it needs the explainerism GG tagged it with originally, but because thereâs so much more sunlight in the world, some that he couldnât have even known about back in the 15th century. Sweet potatoes are sunlight. Pork belly is sunlight. Runeâs hostess tonight was sunlight for me when she said that Troy from Daylily called me their biggest fan. Troy is sunlight, making every table feel like theyâre the only people in the restaurant every time he came around to pour the next wine pairing. Chef Sean is sunlight, not just because he graciously shares his gifts with Fort Wayneâbut because he was willing to make it possible for me to safely enjoy this incredible tasting dinner. I think we are a reflection of all that is around us and all that we take in: the food, the wine, the friendships. I am so grateful to have been surrounded by sunlight this evening.
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First Love, Then Wheat: the lingering taste of lossâŠ

I spent my summer saying goodbye to things that I had previously believed held permanent placements in my life. First love, then wheat. Loss is a terrifying thing because, more often than not, we donât see it coming. One night, youâre falling asleep soundly after receiving a âSweet Dreamsâ text from the person you trust most deeply with every secret inch of your soul. The next evening, youâre sobbing and telling them never to speak to you again. One night, you canât sleepâso instead you find yourself in your kitchen baking a loaf of bread. The next morning, you go for a walk with your dear friend and discuss your shared love of toast. You then go home and eat a nice, buttered slice. Your throat begins to tighten: this gives way to a slew of other unmentionable and horrifying symptoms. You end out your day in emergency care, with a needle in your ass, and a new found fear. Yesterday you could eat anything you wanted toâbut from today forward, you canât.Â
I was sick for weeks after the encounter. Though wheat was the initial suspected culprit of my despair, other foods began to cause trouble. Things that Iâd long considered âsafeâ foods when I was feeling unwell, the comfort foods of my childhood, were no longer a viable option. I was down to sipping bone broth and begging the universe to not let it make me feel awfulâand some days the universe listened, but other days I guess it couldnât hear me. I rapidly lost fifteen poundsâthen more. I was allergy tested for the second time in my life; eighty needles in my back only to learn that women can receive false negatives if they are tested while on their period. (Perhaps this is something that we should warn women about before sticking them with eighty needles.) I went through rounds of bloodwork and endured multiple blown veins. The poking and prodding felt endlessâas if I were some sort of human pin cushion. Answers didnât come easily. In fact, for a time, it felt like no answers came at all. Even when answers did finally come, I found myself extremely unwell for the next few months while we worked to figure out which medications and lifestyle changes were helpful and which werenât helping at all.
When I realized that the course of my life was forever altered by my bodyâs sudden proclivity for malfunctioningâespecially in reaction to the simple act of eatingâI didnât handle the news well. I grieved intensely. I had been slowly but surely working to build a career as a food and wine writer. So, now what? How could I follow this path when I suddenly couldnât safely eat? It felt like a fatal blow. There is so much in life that Iâve dreamed of experiencing but have not yet had the opportunity to achieve. In a moment, my life was irreversibly altered by a slice of buttered toast. I should have been worried about my health. Instead I cried to myself: now Iâll never eat pasta in Italy. Iâll never have a croissant in Paris. I canât just pop down to the pub for a pint with you. And how could you ever love someone so complicated? You could never love someone who canât simply go out, carefree, and graze from the menu of life without questioning what allergens might be presentâor which food my body would suddenly decide was unsafe todayâand would it be a mere inconvenience or ultimately fatal.Â
I tied my self worth to all that Iâd achieved since beginning Plonk & Pleasure; it had become my entire identity. To lose love was one thing, but to lose wheat felt like more than just an omen: it felt like losing myself entirely. Once love and wheat were ripped from my life, I found I didnât know myself at all. With them gone, there wasnât much left to me. Was I cursed to lose everything that I ever held dear? If Iâm not the girl swilling wine, eating pizza, and telling you all about my most recent restaurant escapade: who am I?
Eventually, the veil was lifted. The unknown came to light. I began, for the first time in a very long time, to have answers. Iâve gained the knowledge of whatâs âwrongâ with me and how to, at least for now, treat it the best that we can. If you wonder why Iâm such a cranky bitch half the time, itâs because my cells are constantly shadowboxing nonexistent threats. I havenât lost wheat per seâbut I have lost gluten. I didnât lose your love: because you canât lose something that you never really had. Now youâre just one more thing, in an ever growing list of things, to which my body poorly reacts. Iâm currently embarking on a journey. I canât call it a healing journey: because thereâs no cure for what ails me. But, I suppose, itâs a journey towards being a healthier and happier version of myself.
Brain fog is a side effect of the disorder that I have. With any luck, Iâll forget all the bullshit that you put me through. Iâll forget the taste of a real croissant. Iâll forget the magic of combining eggs, flour, and a little olive oil to manifest fresh pasta on a whim. Iâll forget the joy that Johnny Ox pizza used to bring me. (Just kiddingâIâll never forget how fucking good Johnny Ox is.) The memories of everything but pizza will get hazy and grow distant. Iâll forget: but I wonât forgive. Just because I can handle pain doesnât mean that itâs been easy for meâor fair. Iâm a girl whoâs always, gladly, suffered for my art. But ultimately, I think some things arenât worth hurting myself for. Your approval? Not worth it. Your love? Not worth it. Johnny Ox pizza? Iâd happily die just to taste one last slice. Priorities, baby.
I was never your priority. Sure, you liked my writing. You liked the ego boost that I provided. You liked when I exalted you above all othersâbecause you have a praise kink and nobody can fault you for that. But, letâs be honest. At the end of the day, you always left me footing the bill. You want everything for free even though everybody knows that nothing in this world comes without a cost. I paid with both my mental and physical health. So, consider this my final noticeâIâm so done giving more than I receive from you. Iâm done pretending that everything is perfect. I may have lost the ability to eat gluten, but you lost something more vital: me. Iâll be fine. Youâll just keep on being you.
Loss is subjective. What have I lost, really? Nothing. Iâve gained more than Iâve lost. Now I have answers as to why Iâve felt so awful and what I can do going forward to help combat it. As for my future? It turns out, Italy is full of amazing gluten free pasta, there are gluten free croissants in Paris, and the world is still my oysterâbecause oysters are gluten free. And while most gluten free bread tastes like cardboard, there are options that rival the âreal dealâ if you know where to look. Eating gluten free should come with some sort of government stipend because the groceries are infinitely more expensive. However, this has forced me to plan and prioritize more than Iâve ever had to before in my life: which helps me to discover whatâs really important to me. So no, I canât pop down to the pub for a beer with youâbut I donât want to. Iâll drink cider in the fall and wine the rest of the time. First love, then wheat: the things I thought Iâd lost, but I was mistaken.
So, my life has changed forever? Thatâs cool. Thereâs a lot of local places that I canât eat anymore? Thatâs fine. Obviously, Plonk & Pleasure as you knew it wonât ever exist again. But, youâll still see me posting and writing from time to time: because nothing short of death will stop me from being the girl swilling wine, eating pizza, and telling you all about my most recent restaurant escapade. Like, try to make me shut up about Daylily Estatesâ-it will never fucking happen. Theyâre amazing and I need to shout about it. There will be some businesses that I still love but simply can no longer support for my own health and safety. Sometimes itâs best to love something from a safe distance.
I may have built this brand from the ground up, but henceforth Iâll be driving it like I stole it. Buckle up for gluten free snack and wine pairings, adventures in finding the most tolerable gluten free pizzas, and shameless praise of my favorite local winery. Youâve got to take the rough with the smooth, the bad with the good, and the plonk with the pleasure. Lifeâs not all rainbows and butterflies: sometimes itâs bottom shelf Merlot and gluten free pizza. For a girl whoâs lost so much in the past year, youâd think Iâd be more devastated than I am. But honestly, Iâve never been happier. Itâs weird how losing something (or someone) can make your life so much better, easier, and blissful. Sometimes you have to kill a piece of yourself to keep living. The parts of me that I havenât yet buried are ready to wreak some havoc, Fort Wayne. Babe, wake upâPlonk & Pleasure is back and sheâs thirsty as fuck.
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The Pea Tasting Dinner at Junk Ditch: peas got the princess treatmentâŠ

Thereâs a fairytale about a princess and a pea. Youâve probably heard it before. If you havenât, the gist is essentially that a princess is faced with a test: to sleep on a thousand towering mattresses underneath which has been placed one, tiny pea. If sheâs a real princess, her disposition will be so delicate that the pea will disturb her slumber. Only after passing this test can she marry the prince. Logically, we all know that a tender pea would smoosh beneath the weight of all those mattressesâbecause peas are the princesses of the vegetable world. (Yeah, yeah, yeah: peas arenât vegetables, theyâre legumes. Iâm speaking colloquially. Donât be a turnip about itâbecause turnips are the assholes of the vegetable world.)
Delicate, sweet, and tenderâpeas are what little girls were taught they should be by a gender-role-conforming society. The flavor of peas is so delicate that they can easily be overpowered and lost in a dish. To most palates, peas are inoffensive for this reason. Theyâre easy to stomach. So what happens when we stop pushing peas to the side of the plateârendering them merely a supporting role to a meaty main dishâand start exalting them for their inherent natural beauty and innately special qualities? Alchemy. Thatâs what we experienced at The Pea Tasting Dinner at Junk Ditch last eveningâpure alchemy. The menu didnât just utilize peasâall Pâs were present from pasta, to peaches, to prosciutto and other pork products. (See what I did there?)
The amuse-bouche was a parmigiano-reggiano crisp topped with several dollops of goat cheese mousse, shallot, greens, pickled mustard, and of courseâpeas. This delicate bite was slightly precarious to eat daintily, but the symphony of flavors made the dangerous feat more than worth it. This canape-adjacent treat is something that I would more than happily enjoy time and time again. If a friend invited me over to enjoy a small plate of this little nibble, Iâd gladly bust out the good wine. But, then again, my opinion is biasedâbecause I think anything with a goat cheese mousse is pure heaven. Needless to say, this was an exceptional way to begin our meal.
Our first course of the evening was a spring pea and mint soup. I think often the thought of pea soup evokes memories of an ultra thick, relatively creamy, army green, semi-smoky, ham-laden soup. This soup was anything but. To begin, the color was the epitome of spring pea green. The soup was luscious and silkyâbut it wasnât particularly thick. I really liked the texture. Chef Andrew and his team always surprise me with the soup course and this was no exception. Though this may have been one of the most simple soups Iâve tasted at a Junk Ditch tasting dinner, it may have also been my favorite. The mint flavor was delicate and didnât overpower the sweet, earthiness of the peas. Between the ultra well-balanced, subtle, simple flavors and the absolute velveteen texture of this soup, there was nothing not to love about it. Our meal had only just begun and already I was certain that the evening was headed in the direction of utter perfectionâand sheeeesh, was I right.
The salad course consisted of petite greens, strawberry, shallots, dill, chives, pickled mustard, and chĂšvre all dressed in a Pinot Noir reduction. I will be honest with you: I am not a big fan of strawberries. But, if youâve been around for a while and read other blogs Iâve written, youâve probably gathered that I will try anything at a tasting dinnerâeven a food that I think I donât likeâbecause most of the time I end up enjoying whatever is presented to me on the plate. Chefs know what theyâre doing; for real. This salad was no exception. One bite and I found myself happily and eagerly gobbling down strawberries. Did it help that there was a healthy amount of chĂšvre (aka goat cheese) on this plate? Of course it did. If you fed me wallpaper paste with goat cheese, Iâd probably eat it. However, this salad was lightyears ahead of wallpaper paste. The herbs and greens played nicely to create a backdrop for pops of sweet strawberries, creamy chĂšvre, and brightly acidic mustard. The Pinot Noir reduction was silky and seductive, tying the whole dish together beautifully. If every salad in the world tasted like this one, Iâd never need to eat anything but salad to feel happy and satisfied. Well, maybe thatâs a slight exaggeration, because there is one thing that my soul will long for eternally: pasta.
I am a pasta fiend and I wonât be apologizing for it. Luckily for me, Chef Andrew is truly in his pasta era. (Can we start trending #pastaera for Chef, please?) The third course was our pasta course featuring potato agnolotti, sage cream, snap peas, and crispy prosciutto. When I tell you that this is one of my most favorite pasta dishes that Iâve ever eatenâyou better pick up what Iâm putting down. Iâve always been a pea girl. I wish they were more often utilized in more placesâso this tasting menu was really a dream for me. Even more so when you realize this menu wasnât just abouts âpeasâ because really it was about âPâs.â This pasta was packed with a potato filling creating a purely paradisiacal plate topped with peas and crispy prosciutto: what more could a girl ask for? (See what I did again?) Oh yeahâŠa sage cream sauce, which has nothing to do with peas or Pâs, but it does please me immensely. There were crunchy sage leaves atop this dish, too. Did we ask for spoons so that we could scrape every last pea and drop of cream sauce from the bottoms of our bowls? Perhaps. Was it worth it? Palpably.
Our entrée was pork served in a sea of gnocchetti, asparagus, peas, rosemary, and absolutely divine pork jus. The pork was delicious, but it was truly everything else on the plate that elevated this simple meat to a seriously stunning dish. The gnocchetti serves as further proof that Chef Andrew is in his pasta era. Did we ask for bread to sop up the pool of pork jus left behind on our plates when every last bite of meat, pasta, and veg had long since vanished? Yes, we most certainly did. No regrets. Are you picking up on a theme here? There were two dishes in a row my dining companions and I basically agreed that the flavors were too special to allow even a single drop to be wasted; we wanted to savor every last morsel. But if you think these last few plates were special, just wait until I tell you about dessert.
For dessert, a poached peach was nestled under a blanket of yuzu cream with a small scoop of Verjus sorbet and a delicate sprinkling of palm sugar crumble. Consider my mind utterly and completely blown. The peach provided some level of sweetness. The yuzu cream was almost incomprehensibly delicious; both lusciously creamy and perfectly tart. Then, of course, there was the Verjus sorbetâwhich I can only liken to the experience of eating a seriously sour lemon Italian ice when you were a little kid. Take that specific sense memory. Age it. Elevate it. Keep all the sweet and sour of it, but none of the childhood simplicity. Thatâs what Verjus sorbet tastes like. All together, these elements were exquisiteâbut then there was the crumble. My god, the crumble! A salty burstâbut it was so much more than that. Buttery and nutty, this complexly flavored crumble added more than just texture to the dessertâs already dynamic topography. It added subtle nuanced flavors that enhanced the entire experience to a point for which I no longer have words. This dessert was too good to describe. I think itâs very likely that last night was the first and only time in my life that I will have the pleasure of experiencing this exact dessertâwhich means I will spend the rest of my life missing it. Truly the most beautiful and heartbreaking love story of our time. Desserts shouldnât be allowed to be this good.
This was the first tasting dinner that I opted out of alcohol. Pairing wine and food is maybe one of my favorite pastimes. A good pairing means that both the wine and the food are elevated. But, I do it so often that Iâve almost forgotten that a really good meal doesnât require alcohol to make it betterâthe dishes should shine on their own. So, I joined my N/A homies last night and went wine-free to see how delicious peas can really be in the death defying feat of being featured on a dinner plate; like walking a tightrope without a net. Is anyone surprised that peas were more than prepared to rise to the occasion?
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Draft TaproomxDom’s Mob Wife Dinner: it’s a hit…

A little black dress can be many things. Sometimes itâs a weaponâwielded like a machine gun. Whether itâs to boost the confidence of the one wearing it or as artillery when taking out a hit on someone who broke your heart: the little black dress delivers. It can cut like a knife. It can sting like a bee. It can bring a grown man to his knees. Sometimes, a little black dress is the chosen camouflage of the food influencer in the wildâmaybe Iâm not speaking for others on this, but itâs true for me. Normally, we get the benefit of hiding behind witty usernames and carefully curated photos of food. Take away our security blanket (AKA the internet) and watch me grab for the closest little black dressâbecause, however short or skimpy it may be, I know it will always be something safe for me to hide behind. Sometimes a little black dress is the adopted uniform for a Mob Wife inspired dinnerâwhere influencers are invited to Draft Taphouse to enjoy a pairing dinner with food from Domâs and sample local beverages. There were tables set up from Hop River Brewing, Lunar Fusions Kombucha, and Daylily Estates with free sample pours for all in attendance. Whyte Horse Winery, Hop River Brewing, and Kekionga Craft Company provided sips for the pairing dinner.
I rocked in wearing my satin black dress and fake fur stoleâmy date all in pinstripes, a fedora, and alligator boots. Being social may be hard, but being fabulous just comes naturally to us. The event began casually at six oâclock, allowing attendees about 45 minutes to mingle, socialize, and sample locally crafted beverages. Hop River and Lunar Fusions are local favorites which my friends were delighted to sample and supportâbut you know me. My heart was stolen by Daylily Estates long ago and so I hung around their table of Brianna PĂ©t-Nat like a lion circling a gazelle. (And bought a full pour of their Catawba PĂ©t-Nat to enjoyâbecause Draft still had some on offer and I can do whatever I want to because I am the captain of this meat-suit!)
We began to find our seats to enjoy dinner around seven oâclock. The dining room was romantically litâa mafia movie on the television to further set the moodâand there I was in the âcop spotâ with a fantastic view of the whole room. Everything was served up family styleâso if you didnât know everyone at your table when you first sat down, you quickly became friends. Food has a way of bringing people together. We started the evening with antipasto; a large grazing platter of olives, cherries, yummy house-made sausage, and various breads with an artichoke butter. Truly, the standouts on the platter were the sausage bites, the focaccia, and the cheeses. There was Manchego, an Aged White Cheddar from Maine, and a Whole Milk Mozzarella from Illinois that was marinated in house. The mozz was definitely my favorite. We also got to munch on a Tangy Kale Caesar Salad with some super bomb dressing, parm, lemon, and sourdough croutons. All this paired with an off-dry Riesling from Whyte Horse. Since Riesling is always a good idea, this pairing was a good idea.
Our next course was pizzaâwhich is so apropos for Domâs. Pizza is why you already know and love Domâs. This was paired with a beer, but I wonât lie to you: I didnât try it. I let my date have it because he really likes it. Hop River has great beers, we already know this. Instead of drinking beer, I was an absolute menace and kept sneaking samples of Daylilyâs Brianna PĂ©t-Nat. I wonât apologize. I love it. Itâs delicious. Pizza and PĂ©t-Nat is a match made in heaven. I think what I did was very smart; so la-di-da. We got slices of a basic red sauce cheese New York style pizza, a Greek veggie New York style pizza, and a Detroit style pizza with roasted grapes, Gorgonzola, smokey bacon and rosemary, and creamy white sauce. All of the pizza tasted yummy. However, the Gorgonzola and Grape pizza is a regular on Domâs menu. And if you know me you know that this is probably my favorite pizza that they makeâwith the exception of that one time that they made a special, limited offering of pickle pizza. YâallâIâm glad that I live in a world where I can get a Gorgonzola and Grape pizza whenever I want it. Because after having it tonight, I know Iâll want it again really soon. Itâs utterly craveable.
The third course is really the reason weâd all gathered for the evening. Influencers/mobsters united to eat baked pasta dishes. Domâs previously didnât offer pastaâbut they do now. We tried two variations and, fam, itâs a whole mood. The baked Mostaccioli had a brisket bolognese and basil ricotta. This red sauced pasta was ultra creamy and cheesy: like when somebodyâs Nonna makes pasta for a church lunchâbut better. My favorite was the Garlic Chicken and Truffle Alfredo. It was rich without being overly decadent, cheesy without sitting like a brick in your tummy, and full of truffle flavor without tasting overtly of synthetic truffle oil. (Because cheap truffle oil ironically contains no real truffles.) The pastas were paired with Barg & Butch Red Blend by Kekionga Craft Company. It is wine. It is a dry red blend.
Dessert was a Pistachio Affogato served with a plate of cookies. I had finished all of the Brianna PĂ©t-Nat that I could stomach by this point. Did I basically go to a fancy-pants, Mob Wife themed pairing dinner and just quaff Daylilyâs Brianna PĂ©t-Nat? Perhaps. I also ate pasta, so thereâs that. Being a person is hard sometimesâbeing an influencer is maybe harder. Especially when thatâs not how you see yourself. I think itâs especially true of many of the talented creators in Fort Wayne: influencer is not a title that we ever sought to achieve, it was instead a title thrust upon us. Some of us are more comfortable with the term âcontent creator.â I just wanted people to read my writing and recognized that social media was a helpful tool to direct people to my blog. I just wanted to write. Now Iâm getting invited to influencer dinners. The idea of me having any influence over others is anxiety-inducing: especially when you consider how fake everything is online. Iâm not an exception to this rule. Iâm faker than plastic cheese on the âgram. But the version of me that exists on the internet is a persona that helps me connect with my community and have experiences that I wouldnât get to have otherwise. Thatâs why I do it, and I suspect it might be why most other content creators do it, too. We are passionate about elevating local businesses and supporting the local community. All the internet stuff that all of us internet people do, at the best of times, allows us opportunities to meet people and learn new things and go out into the world to have a good time together every once in a while. This dinner was a good reminder of that: weâre not in it alone, and thatâs the point. We have each other and thatâs exactly why we all started doing this in the first place. Weâre here to eatâand, last night, we ate.
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Daylily Estates: they’re here to do it better…

Sometimes we live our lives accepting the status quo because we donât know any better. Then a disruptor comes along and paints our world in the technicolor of possibilityâand suddenly nothing will ever be the same. Calling Daylily Estates a âdisruptorâ feels a little funny, because thereâs nothing particularly rebellious about what theyâre doing. I wouldnât call the gentlemen behind Daylily Estates the âbad boys of Indiana wineâ and I know for a fact theyâre not traipsing through the vineyards in leather jackets with switchblades. At first blush, they may not seem like radicalsâthat is, until you look at them through the narrow scope that is wine production in Indianaâperhaps, even more specifically, wine production in Northeastern Indianaâand then it becomes abundantly clear that Daylily Estates is not just here to do more of whatâs already been done: theyâre here to do it better.
I said, âbetterâ and I meant what I said. There will be no apologies issued from me for these words. I know that itâs a fucking bold claim. And before you get your panties in a bunch thinking that some cishet white men are traipsing around Churubusco pretending that theyâve somehow reinvented wine, let me stress that the claim doesnât belong to the brilliant minds behind Daylily Estates. These are my words. I chose them. I wrote them. All you have to do is comprehend itâpick up what Iâm laying down, babe. I believe wholeheartedly, unwaveringly, and passionately in what these dudes are doing. I am brazen enough to say that they are going to break the stasis of wine culture in Northeastern Indiana. The dudes behind Daylily Estates probably wouldnât be so bold as to make such big claims about themselves and their abilities. Theyâre insanely talented, but also seriously humble. I left the vineyard wondering if they really know how skilled and singular they are. If not, hopefully by the end of this blog theyâll have an inkling. The benefit of the lack of ego at Daylily is that theyâve managed to craft an environment at their winery where novices and wine-pros alike can feel comfortableâthis is no small feat. The wine industry is so often more about dick swinging than it is about enjoying wine: but they are having none of the bullshit at Daylily Estates. There are no right or wrong answers when you sip their winesâso itâs safe to speak your mind, feel your feelings, and enjoy the wine.
Daylily founder and winemaker, Cody Kraus, co-founder Chris Leonard, and co-founder/sommelier Troy Veglatte are becoming pioneers of a growing movement to craft better quality wines in our region. If you donât know their names already, learn them now. There is no doubt in my mind that within my lifetime these dudes’ names will be synonymous with discussions of an American Viticultural Area (for the noobs not familiar with this term, itâs just a fancy way of saying a protected and recognized wine growing region) that doesnât even officially exist yet. Sure, thereâs the Indiana Uplands in the lower portion of our state and the massively sprawling Ohio River Valleyâbut winemaker Cody Kraus dares to dream of the day when a new AVA is designated, encompassing our little slice of paradise. As long as dope people keep doing dope shit in Northeastern Indiana: this dream could very well become a reality. I donât just see this as being feasible; I see this as being likely if more dope people want to do dope things here.
But whatâs so special about Daylily Estates? Donât we already have a number of vineyards and producers in the area? Sure we doâand everybodyâs probably already got their favorite. Iâd like to take this time to remind you that itâs okay to change your mind. Up until today, I did not have a favorite local winery because none scratched all of my itches. Sure, Iâd grab a bottle or two here and there. Iâd give support and kudos to whomever I felt deserved it whenever I felt it was deserved. (Iâll continue to do that.) But, ultimately, nobody made me turn my head and say, âI see you, sexy, and I like what youâre doing over there.â One trip to Daylily Estates and Iâm already confident that they tick all the boxesâso thatâs true love. We can talk about what theyâre doing thatâs so special, but what theyâre not doing is almost more exciting. While theyâre definitely working to offer a variety of wines, so that thereâs something for everyone no matter what you like, they are not offering cloyingly sweet niche bottles with artificial flavorsâand thereâs absolutely no boozy slushies at this vineyard. Donât get me wrong: sommelier Troy Veglatte loves a sweet wine and can wax poetic about the beauty of finding the time and place to enjoy a sweeter sip. You can even anticipate a canned wine drop in the near futureâlow ABV, considerably sweeter than I am, and crushable juicy goodness. The point is, they bring more to the table than just sweetness. Thereâs real substance behind what theyâre producing. Iâm swooning.
You know what else theyâre not doing? Treating their crops with glyphosate. Do you know that wordâglyphosate? What if I said, âglyphosate-based herbicides?â What if I just came out and said, âRoundup?â Locally, there are vineyards that treat their grapes this way. Personally, Iâd rather support a vineyard that stands against these practices. Daylily Estates isnât simply anti-glyphosate, theyâre completely and emphatically committed to regenerative agriculture. What does that mean? Itâs an approach to farming that primarily focuses on conservation and rehabilitation. The benefits of this approach are numerous and varied, including but not limited to top soil regeneration, increasing soil biodiversity, supporting pollinators, and ultimately reversing climate change. So no big deal or anything, theyâre just saving the world one vineyard at a time. Walk through the baby vines currently growing at Daylily Estates and youâll quickly see that clover is the cover-crop of choice. Planting clover amongst the vines aids in the prevention of soil erosion, it enhances nitrogen levels in the soil, and even supports pollinators. With this approach to farming, it just makes sense that all of Daylily Estates facilities are completely off-grid and solar-powered.
So, hereâs the time for some honest truth: I am currently drinking their Brianna PĂ©t-Nat while writing this. I often like to drink a little wine when I write. When I write about something that I have very few nice things to say about, I will drink more wine to compensate. It makes me nicerâand funnier. I am a glass and a half in on their Brianna PĂ©t-Nat and itâs not because I donât have a million nice things to sayâitâs because they make really fucking good wine. Brianna is a pretty common grape in the Midwest, though it was only bred in the early 1980s. I know that there are local vineyards that have won awards for their Brianna wines, but none have really knocked my socks off the way that Daylily Estatesâ Brianna PĂ©t-Nat has. This wine gives lively bubbles when first opened. With early pours, I was getting serious tropical fruits, like pineapple, and gentle floral notesâthough not intensely aromatic. My bottle has been open for a hot minute; the wine has lost some bubbles, but Iâm now noticing more peach and honey than I was before. These are subtle changes. If youâre not paying close attention to your wine and thinking hard about it, youâll likely not notice this sort of thing. But for those of us who like to get down and nerdy with our wines, thereâs a lot to unpack in this Brianna PĂ©t-Nat. You may be surprised to know that I like it just as much, if not more, than their Catawba PĂ©t-Nat.
If youâve been following for awhile, you already know that I fucking love Catawba. This grape holds no clout on the world stage. They could not give a fuck about Catawba in Europe. Like Brianna, this is an inherently American varietal known for its mix of fruitiness and occasional foxiness. Poets have penned odes to Catawba wine. I could see myself penning an ode to Daylily Estatesâ Catawba PĂ©t-Nat. Iâve had a lot of Catawba winesâmaybe too many by some standardsâbut never before have I had a Catawba PĂ©t-Nat. The Catawba is not quite as effervescent as the Brianna PĂ©t-Nat, but it makes up for it in its gorgeous pink hue. If you like Superbloom by Las Jaras, you will like this Catawba PĂ©t-Nat. All the Watermelon Jolly Rancher, with none of the jalapeño herbaceousness or super salinity, this PĂ©t-Nat is a smooth sip that would pair gorgeously with some spicy food.I currently have two Daylily Estates bottles in my wine collection. Iâm about to spend the next few months drinking a myriad of wines from around the world as part of my WSET 2 studies. I look forward to adding more Daylily Estates bottles to my collection in the near future. If that doesnât say something about the quality of the product theyâre crafting, I donât really know what more I can say. These are the wines I have wanted to see produced in Indiana since I first moved here. I donât know if Iâm actually allowed to talk about this, but I sipped a Traminette produced by Daylily Estates. It will age for a few more months before bottling, but I imagine it will be released to the public soon. Yâall, I donât know what you already know, but Traminette is the state grape of Indiana. I had yet to find a Traminette that fired me up until Daylily Estates showed up and said, âBet.â Itâs our fucking state grape, people. We should be producing wine that actually does it justice. We have so much to offer. We simply have to put in the effort to create something worthwhile. Daylily Estates gets it. They have my unyielding support, because what theyâre crafting is exceptional, and the methods theyâre employing are valuable and visionary. They do Indiana justice.

