Ambrosia Pie, and Other Recipes from the 1940s

More and more, Kris is becoming my partner on these blogs. Here she provides a guest entry for foldedspace.

Over the past few months, I’ve entered hundreds of recipes into MacGourmet, a computerized recipe database. While working on my recipe project this weekend, I came across an old mimeographed and bound cookbook put together in 1947 when both my grandparents and great-grandparents were working for a naval base in California. I thought you’d get a chuckle out of these.


Ambrosia Pie (Great Grandmother)
1 pint heavy cream
16 large ginger snaps, + 2 extra for garnish
2 tsp vanilla
2 Tbsp sugar
9″ graham cracker pie crust
This is an ice-box dessert and should be prepared 6-8 hours before use. Whip the cream so it will hold its shape but not be too dry. Break the gingersnaps into pieces about the size of a quarter and stir into the whipped cream. Add the sugar and vanilla and heap into your pie shell. Sprinkle with crushed remaining two cookies. Set in refrigerator until ready for use.

Chicken Chasseur (from Grandmother)
Take one stewing hen. Boil with 3 stalks of celery, 1 large onion, salt and 5 peppercorns. When tender, remove meat from bones, put in casserole with onions. Add parsley, sage and thyme. Pour over meat 1 cup dry white wine and 1 cup cooking liquor. Sprinkle with breadcrumbs and add 2 lumps of chicken fat. Cook in 325 degree oven for a half-hour.

Chocolate Puffs (Great Grandmother)
1 large bar Baker’s bittersweet chocolate
2 squares baking chocolate
1 package Rice Crispies cereal
Melt chocolates together in a double boiler. Pour in the Rice Crispies. Stir until they are uniformly coated in the chocolate. Drop by large spoonsful upon waxed paper and put outside to cool. This is something a child can successfully make.

Boneless Birds (from Great Grandfather)
Split the flank steak or have the butcher do it, then cut each half in half again to make 4 6″ squares. Lay flat, season well with salt and pepper. On each piece, at one end, place a piece of bacon, a sliver of dill pickle cut lengthwise, some chopped onion and a slice of garlic salami (diced small). Roll up each steak and skewer neatly with toothpicks. Fold ends together and skewer to keep contents in.
Put a teaspoon of fat in a Dutch oven and brown the “birds” well on all sides. Then, add any leftover onion, a teaspoon of vinegar, a generous dash of Worcestershire sauce. a bay leaf and a can of tomato paste. Reduce heat and cook slowly for one hour. Add water if it gets too dry.

Fruit Salad Dressing (Great Grandmother)
1 egg, well-beaten
2 Tbsp sugar
pinch salt
2 Tbsp cider vinegar
1 tsp dry mustard, heaping
1 cup heavy cream
Cook all ingredients except the cream until they get quite thick. This must be done in a double boiler. Cool. Just before you are ready to use, whip the cream quite stiff and at the last few turns of he beater, fold in the cooked mixture. Pile on top of your fruit salad and top with a cherry. This makes an excellent tangy dressing.


These recipes are so, well, vague. What are you supposed to do with the Chicken Chasseur? Eat it over noodles? By itself? And what about the ingredients? There aren’t any amounts for anything! How much parsley? Where does the chicken fat come from?

It’s not just the vagueness that shocks our modern sensibilities. The very notion of eating some of these things puts my stomach ill-at-ease. Ambrosia pie? It’s just whipped cream with soggy cookies! And what’s up with that fruit salad dressing? (Just reading the ingredients makes J.D. sick.)

Aside from the “ick” factor, reading recipes like this should remind us that we need to provide specific weights and measures when we write things down for friends and family. (At least if we want our recipes to be prepared by our descendants.) Who knows if a package of Rice Krispies from 1947 is the same size as it is now. How much, exactly, is “one large bar of Baker’s bittersweet chocolate”? And how about “16 large ginger snaps”?

I’ve only posted the silliest recipes here, but I found my great-grandfather’s crepe recipe, which I remember eating in my grandmother’s house, and a braided Christmas pastry recipe that brings back fond memories. So many of our childhood memories involve food — it would be great if the recipes that we (not J.D. and I — but we as a generation) passed on were actually useable by our children. (Not to mention appetizing!)

Learning to Make Steamed Clams

My obsessions with clams continues. I’ve been ordering them whenever I can find them on a restaurant menu, so I’m beginning to get a feel for the varieties available. My favorite are still those at Gino’s, primarily because they’re more soupy. Most clams come steamed and served in a sauce of some sort. But they’re mostly clams. The ones at Gino’s are served with far more liquid than others I’ve found. I like that.

This weekend I decided to finally learn to make clams on my own. We’re hosting our informal monthly “food club” next weekend (a club that includes me and Kris, Paul and Amy Jo, Mike and Rhonda); I’m hoping to make steamed clams. We’re supposed to only prepare new recipes for this gathering, but I’m leery of preparing clams for the group without having done so before. So I’m experimenting. Good thing, too.

On Friday I bought two pounds of “steamer clams” from Thriftway (cost: $11.50). I assumed that these were the sort I was getting in restaurants. Wrong. Steamer clams are big, much larger than the clams I get at Higgins or Gino’s. I didn’t realize this, though, until I fixed them Saturday morning.

I found a recipe from Caprial that sounded promising, and began to prepare it. I brought a cup of white wine and two teaspoons of butter to a boil, and then added the clams. When they opened, I was shocked to see how much meat was inside. The idea of eating this was gross, even to me. I changed tack, and set those clams (and the liquid) aside for some chowder.

Tiffany took us for a hike later in the morning. Afterward, we stopped at Costco where I was able to purchase a five pound bag of Manila clams for $17.50. Jerry, the seafood guy, gave me a recipe for preparing the clams (which was basically one I had come up with on my own: white wine and garlic), and guaranteed me that I would love these clams or I could bring back the empty bag and get a full refund. Nice guy, that Jerry.

At home, I tried a variation on the morning’s recipe. Someplace (I can’t remember where), I had clams with bacon, and quite liked it. So, I melted a little butter, added some bacon ends (I keep a stash of these in the freezer — I buy a bag at a time from Voget Meats in Hubbard), and fried the bacon til crispy. Then I added some minced garlic and minced shallots, frying these til fragrant and golden-brown. Next I added some white wine. When this was boiling, I added the clams.

The end-product was good, but I actually found the dry white wine too piquant. It was overbearing. Also, the clams are still larger than the ones I get in the restaurant. I think the restaurant clams are “littlenecks”. I’ll have to find a place to buy them.

I’ve offered to make clams for dinner tonight, and Kris has gamely agreed to eat them. I’m going to adapt my recipe a little. I have about four pounds of clams left, so I’m going to do the following:

  • Melt a tablespoon of butter in our soup kettle.
  • Add a handful of bacon ends, cooking them til crispy.
  • Add several cloves of garlic and most of a shallot, minced, frying these til golden-brown.
  • Add the rest of the bottle of pinot gris (about two cups?), bringing it to a boil.
  • Add the clams. Cover them til they open. When they do, I’ll pull them from the kettle.
  • Finally — and here’s where the recipe steers toward Jeremy’s — I’ll add a cup or two of fish stock. I’ll bring the mixture to a boil, reducing it some (though not too much &mdahs; I want a broth, not a stock).

I’d love to add saffron to this — the big restaurants do — but I don’t know the proper stage to add it. I’m also curious about hickory-smoke flavor. Not with this particular recipe, I guess, but in general I think a smokey flavor would go well with clams. I’ll have to experiment with that, too.

Jeremy’s Clams

I’ve been on a clam kick lately. Over the course of a one-week period at the end of March and beginning of April, I had awesome clams three nights. Oh my. How come no one ever told me they were this good?

I’m going to ask for the recipe at Gino’s next time I go back — those are my favorite of the three I tried — but meanwhile I got Jeremy to try to remember his recipe (which was ad hoc to begin with). He basically made up the recipe as he went along, and then he and I tried to reconstruct it over the phone two weeks later. There are bound to be errors, but it’s a good basis from which to work.

Jeremy’s Clams
In a large pot, brown 6-8 oz. of hearty, spicy sausage (he used soppresatta) in a couple tablespoons of fat (he prefers olive oil, but thinks butter would work). Add 3 shallots (or, he said, 1-1/2 cups onions) until they begin to caramelize, then add 5-6 cloves of garlic. Don’t let the garlic burn. When things are browned nicely, add about 1-1/2 cups white wine. Boil to reduce by half. At 1/2 cup of clam juice, 4 cups fish stock, a can of tomatoes, and some a pinch of hot pepper flakes. Bring to a boil. Add 2-1/2 pounds of clams and cook until they open. Distribute clams evenly to serving bowls. Reduce liquid. Add some fresh ground pepper and 2-3 tablespoons butter. Ladle sauce over clams. Serve with garlic crostini.

I did some googling to try to find a a recipe similar to the one at Gino’s. Their dish is more “soupy” than Jeremy’s sauce. It’s a garlic/saffron thing with clams and mussels, served in a dish of broth. (It comes with bread, too.) It’s heavenly.

All I came up with was clams in garlic and wine, which is actually closer to Jeremy’s concoction.

I’m angling for more clam opportunities in the next few weeks. We’ll be dining out with a web acquaintance, with a group of Portland bloggers, with the MNF group, and then probably with Andrew and Courtney. I’ll be hoping for clams every time.

I’m obsessed.

The Pleasures of Hot Food

Kris and I went out to Gino’s for dinner on Friday night. Since Amy Jo introduced us to the place a couple months ago, it’s become one of our favorite restaurants. It’s relatively close to home, the food is good, and the booths are private.

Ostensibly our purpose was to discuss my possible transition from the box factory to stay-at-home, full-time blogging. In reality, we wanted some of Gino’s hot food.

Most restaurant food is served tepid. It’s warm, but either the food has been sitting under a heat lamp, or it was never truly hot in the first place. (Often both.) This isn’t anything we’d ever really noticed until we found Gino’s. At Gino’s, the food arrives at the table piping hot. It’s a revelation.

On Friday, for example, Kris ordered an Italian herb-encrusted chicken on a bed of potatoes. When she cut through the bird’s crispy skin, steam poured from inside. She took a bite. She closed her eyes and sighed, “Mmmm…. this is so good, so hot.” The entire meal was like that.

For my part, I had a bowl of clams and mussels in a broth of wine, butter, and fish stock. When I met Tom and Paul at Gino’s in February, we’d ordered this for the three of us, and I had been shocked by how good it was. Sometimes you order an unassuming dish in a restaurant only to discover it’s one of the best things you’ve ever eaten — this is one of those dishes. My bowl came hot, too. It was delicious.

On Saturday we attended an impromptu dinner party at Jeremy and Jennifer’s. Yay! It’s been more than three years since we last experienced a Gingerich dinner party — this was the best yet.

For appetizers we had:

  • puff pastry with melted blue cheese
  • lime-pepper dates stuffed with almonds

The first course was, to my delight, a close facsimile of the clam dish I’d had at Gino’s the night before. Jeremy reduced some wine and fish stock with a lot of garlic and a little pork of some sort. He added a bunch of clams to the liquid and boiled them ’til they opened. After reducing the liquid further, he served each person 7-8 clams, a cup or so of sauce, and some garlic bread. It was awesome. (Gino’s version is more of a broth; Jeremy’s was more of a sauce.)

Next came an asparagus salad with tangerine aioli and hazelnuts. This was followed by a butternut squash ravioli with browned butter and hazelnuts. (Jeremy and Jennifer have a filbert orchard, so hazelnuts are plentiful.) The entree was rack of lamb served with green herb-butter mashed potatoes. The lamb’s presentation was great: it featured three chive stalks jutting from the potatoes. The evening wound down with a cheese plate, and then a banana bread pudding with chocolate and caramel sauces.

The food was delicious. The wine was excellent. The company was delightful.

But all I can think of in retrospect is that I WANT MORE CLAMS! I’ve never been a huge seafood fan, but the older I get, the more I learn to appreciate its charms. (Here’s a promising clam broth recipe from Giata.)

Chet: The Secret Recipe

From the kitchen of Mike and Wendy Pringle comes this top-secret recipe for Chet, a seasoned salt of which I’ve become quite a fan. Wendy slipped me a note card with the ingredients when she arrived at Ham Feast the other night. And here, for the first time, I’m making this secret recipe public.

To produce Chet in your own home, combine the following: 26oz salt, 1-1/2 oz ground black pepper, 2oz ground red pepper, 1oz garlic powder, 1oz chili powder. Optionally, add 1oz of MSG.

yum

What can you use Chet for? What can’t you use Chet for? Use it for burgers and salads and soups and scrambled eggs and grilled fish and fresh-sliced apple. Use it for anything where you want a little kick.

Delicious.

A Salty Snack

We had dinner with our friends Chris and Cari on Saturday night. Michael and Laura joined us. And, of course, the kids were there: Kaden, Ethan, Emma, and Sophia.

Kaden is nearly seven, and has begun to exhibit strong personality traits. He was born on Leap Day, and so I always kid him about his age. “You’re still only one,” I say. “You’ll be two soon.” The other night he frowned a little and told me, “That’s not really funny anymore.” Touché! He likes his tropical fish, and he loves his Legos. I think he’s a great kid. (The other three kids are great, too, but this entry is about K.C.)

While at dinner Kaden commented that he liked salt. Kris told him how I have a habit of eating salt when I’m very, very hungry. We’ll be sitting in a restaurant waiting for our food, and I’ll tide myself over with a touch of salt from the shaker. Kris thinks it’s strange, and I suppose she’s right.

Anyhow, K.C. was effusive in his praise of salt, so I took a page from Craig‘s book. I’ve created a salt sampler for him from the various flavors in my library, and I’ll mail it to him later today.

The flavors I sent him include:

  • Top row: sea salt, real sea salt (very salty), sea smoke salt, garlic salt.
  • Bottom row: herbed salt (from Italy — very good), seasoned salt, Caribbean salt (from Connecticut), hickory smoked salt (I use this all the time).

The herbed salt came from Amy Jo (who has recently resurrected From a Corner Table). Craig and Amy Jo appreciate my love of salt, and encourage it with salty gifts from time-to-time. And now I’m passing these gifts on to the next generation of salt-lovers.

You Win Some, You Lose Some

The extended holiday weekend gave me an opportunity to catch up with old friends.

On Wednesday, Andrew and Joann joined us for dinner. In August, they hosted us for a couple of nights during our trip to San Francisco; we were happy to return the hospitality. We decided to fix them a swell new dish: beef tenderloin stuffed with pine nuts and monterey jack cheese. Unfortunately, the dish was swell only in theory.

That’s right — we committed an entertainment faux pas by attempting to impress company with a meal we’d never tried before. We could have served Caprial’s beef tenderloin with pepper and port sauce, a dish we’ve made many times, a dish that we can nail, a dish that never fails to impress. But we got cocky and went for something new. The results were disastrous. Though we followed directions, the meat was bland and undercooked. I thought the balsamic vinegar clashed terribly with the other ingredients. It was a mess. We should have surrendered and ordered pizza, but we stuck it out, finishing the steaks. Andrew and Joann get gold stars for that.

After dinner, I preached the glory of the Wii. We had fun with Wii Sports, but when it came time to play something else, I realized I don’t have any other good multiplayer games yet. We tried to play the Monkeyball party games, but it was an exercise in frustration. None of them made any sense. And I hadn’t unlocked enough of the Rayman multiplayer games for it to be any fun. My top priority for this machine is to get another fun multiplayer game so that my evangelism can carry more weight.

My weekend food endeavors weren’t all bad. I made some yummy mashed potatoes for family Thanksgiving on Thursday. On Saturday, I surprised myself by mixing up a batch of damn good bean soup. It was easy! Here’s what I did:

J.D.’s Impromptu Bean Soup
Soak 2-1/2 cups Bob’s Red Mill 13-bean blend for six hours. Rinse. Add 2 quarts water. Bring to boil over high heat. While waiting for the boil, add the other ingredients as they become ready: 3 tablespoons Bob’s Red Mill Bean Soup Seasoning, 1 teaspoon hickory smoke salt, 1 yellow onion (diced), 3-5 cloves garlic (minced), 1 can tomato sauce, and about 1 pound of the pork product of your choice. (I used ham because we had some in the freezer. Bacon works. Fresh ham works.) Cook for about two hours, until beans are done to your liking. Remove from heat. For best flavor, store overnight in fridge.

It’s good stuff, I tell you — good stuff!

Yesterday we met up with Nicole Lindroos and her husband, Chris Pramas, for brunch at Wild Abandon in southeast Portland. Paul and Amy Jo joined us. I love to go out for breakfast. It’s a treat I don’t get very often because it’s Kris’ least favorite meal. It was an adjustment for me to order a breakfast with limited sugar. Normally I’d devour a huge stack of pancakes and then slather them in syrup. Yesterday I ordered a ham-and-cheese omelet with fried potatoes. The only real sugar came from ketchup and from a small blueberry scone. Still, the meal was good.

I should join Paul and Amy Jo for breakfast more often.

Recipes from Rosings Park

Kris and I are lucky to have friends who love food, friends who love to cook and share their cooking with others. I’ve often said it would be fun to create a friend cookbook — to collect favorite recipes from everyone we know, and to publish them in one of those cheap spiral-bound fundraiser books.

Kris and I have already begun the process, to some extent, though not in a truly systematized fashion. Whenever we taste something we love — at book group, at a dinner party, and Monday night football gatherings — we ask for the recipe. We’ve been adding these recipes to MacGourmet, an inexpensive recipe database.

I was afraid that MacGourmet would be pointless, but we actually like it. It’s easier than collating piles of recipe cards, or dogearing pages in cookbooks. “The best thing is that you can search,” Kris says. “You can say, ‘I have zucchini. What can I make with zucchini?’ If you have enough recipes, you can get some good answers.” I like that MacGourmet lets you tag recipes with keywords, add photos, and note the source.

I also like that MacGourmet lets you publish your recipes to the web. If you’ve ever followed the “eat” link in the sidebar, you’ve discovered Recipes from Rosings Park, which is our ongoing collection of favorite dishes from friends (as collected in MacGourmet). We recently updated the list. Here are some of my favorites:

There are some notable dishes missing here. Paul’s posole, for example, and anything from Kara or Kim. Also, there’s nothing from Craig! Actually, we still have tons more recipes to enter. “I haven’t even put in a quarter of my recipes, so it’s kind of silly to post this now,” Kris told me when she saw what I was writing. I’ll just have to post again later when we have everything in the computer.

Peking Duck

Important reader poll at the end of this entry. Seriously.

Kris and Tiffany’s Aunt Jenefer and Uncle Bob were in Portland last night (with Bob’s mother Irene), so the six of us gathered at Sungari for a Chinese feast. Dinner was awesome.

Tiffany and I had pre-ordered the Peking Duck. I had never eaten Peking Duck before. The preparation process is so elaborate that the dish must be ordered 48 hours in advance. According to the wikipedia:

Peking Duck requires a duck with its head still attached. First, it is inflated with a pump or other object, separating the skin from the body (this was done by blowing through a straw by someone with a strong lung in ancient times). Then the skin is scalded with boiling water to make it drier and tauter and brushed with molasses so that it acquires a dark, rich color with the slight aroma of caramel during the subsequent cooking process. After drying for half a day, the duck is hung by its neck in a hot oven where it is roasted for an hour or more, during which time the copious fat of the duck melts off and the skin becomes crispy. Because a large oven is required, as well as other complicated preparation techniques, Peking Duck is not usually prepared at home.

Serving is a production, too. At Sungari, the duck is served table-side. The waiter brings two dishes of flaming hoisin sauce (as in, the sauce is on fire), the duck, some scallions, and some mu-shi (flour pancakes) which look like nothing more than homemade Mexican tortillas. The waiter then spreads hoisin sauce on a pancake, fills it with duck and shallots, and then puts them on a platter. A single duck makes about a dozen wraps.

Because I had ordered the most expensive dish on the menu, I decided to order the most expensive drink too: the monkey-picked tea.

“I don’t like it,” Tiffany said, after taking a sip.

“It tastes like grass,” I agreed. But after a few more sips, and after a few bites of Peking Duck and Sesame Beef, I was hooked. I drank a pot-and-a-half. (I’m not ever going to get to sleep.)

It was fun to see Bob, Jenefer, and Irene. Special thanks to Bob for picking up the check. It was a generous gesture, especially after I’d ordered the most expensive stuff in the restaurant!

Dinner was especially fine because:

  • It had been a Day From Hell at work, and
  • I was just beginning to get sick. (I’m very sick now.)

As we were saying our good-byes, Bob and Jenefer voiced their distaste for the new weblog front page. “I hate it,” Jenefer said.

“Well, it’s only temporary,” I said. “I’m moving to new blogging software. In a couple weeks, the new site will look mostly like the old site.”

“What do you mean mostly?” she said. “It had better have the calendar, and it had better have the comments on the main page. I hate all the clicking around I have to do now. It’s terrible.

“And you should write more. I don’t care about comic books or personal finance. I hate all those links you put up. I want more stories.”

Kris smiled. She’s been telling me for weeks that I shouldn’t make my proposed changes. She’s been telling me for weeks that people like foldedspace just the way it is. She’s been telling me for weeks that I spend too much time writing for Get Rich Slowly, and not enough time writing here.

So, dear readers, I put it to you: what are your feelings? What do you like about this site? What do you think needs to change? Should I simply go back to the way things were? I can ratchet up the spam protection to see if it does anything. If I can make the new front page look and operate the same way as the old page, will that keep you happy?

The ball is in your court. Let me know how you feel.

Corked

So I’m trying cork’d, the new web-based wine-tracker. It’s a keen idea, and looks very nice. You enter information about the wines you own, and about the wines you try, and that information is shared with the cork’d community. You can add “drinking buddies” — Rich has already joined me, and maybe Jeremy will someday. (If you want to join, let me know, and I’ll e-mail you so that we automatically buddy up.)

But the thing is, cork’d is frustrating to use. It feels like an application where the designers were able to get it to work for them and the way they work with this information, but failed to test it in the real-world. (I’m not saying that this is what occurred; it just feels that way.) It’s also an application that’s prettier than it is functional. (It’s very pretty.)

Here are some specific things that bug me about cork’d. (And this list comes after only entering half a dozen bottles!)

The idea is that this is a social wine site. That is, after one person has entered the data for a particular bottle of wine, anyone else can use that information without having to re-enter it themselves. For example, here’s a bottle of two-buck chuck. If you go down to Trader Joe’s and pick up a case of this, you don’t have to enter the data because it’s already in the system.

But what if you find the wine you want and the information is incorrect? That is, what if you find this entry for the exact same bottle of two-buck chuck. What do you do? Well, you probably try to create one of your own. So right away, there’s one problem: with a system like that, you’re likely to have multiple instances of the same bottle of wine.

So should the designers limit the information that people can enter? That presents problems, too. Speaking from my own experience, here’s a bottle of Willamette Valley Vineyards 2003 Pinot Noir that I’d like to add to my wine cellar. The information is basically correct, except for two things:

  1. This user paid $23.99 for his bottle — I paid $14.89 the same wine. It does me no good to have this in my cellar with his pricing information. I want my pricing information.
  2. The region listed is wrong. Yes, it might make sense that a bottle from a Salem winery called “Willamette Valley Vineyards” would have an appellation of “Oregon – Willamette Valley”, but in reality the correct appellation for this body is simply “Oregon”. A small thing, but it bugs me. I’m not allowed to edit this information if I want to add the bottle to my cork’d wine cellar.

So what should I do? Create a new entry for this wine? That seems like a poor choice. But I don’t want to use the info as-is, either. It’s a stalemate, which basically means I don’t enter the wine at all, and I write a weblog entry complaining about the website.

There are other problems, too, such as:

  • cork’d calls appellations “regions”. I can deal with that, I suppose, but I can’t deal with the fact that you have to choose your region from a drop-down menu of pre-defined choices, a menu that out of seven bottles, was missing two of the regions I wanted. I want a way to add appellations.
  • I’m attempting to add all of my wines to my cork’d wine cellar at the same time. First, there’s no obvious way to add a wine from the front page at all. I eventually found out how to do so by clicking to a different page where adding a wine was an option. But why not on the front page, too? And after I add each bottle of wine, I’m taken to that bottle’s individual page. That’s fine, but there’s now way to just immediately add my next bottle of wine from this page. I have to click through a bunch of stuff again.
  • I want a “personal notes” field — something that isn’t a review, but something that isn’t a “description” either. I want to keep track of where I bought a wine, or who gave it to me. I just entered “purchased at Costco on 07 October 2006” for several bottles in the description field, and now that’s part of the permanent record. Oops. But it doesn’t belong in a review, either. It’s a personal note.
  • The search system seems broken. Searching for “willamette valley vineyards pinot” generates a “can’t find it” message, even though there are several wines that should return matches. But searching for “willamette valley vineyards” works as expected.
  • When I add a wine to my cellar from search, I’m given a choice of how many bottles to add, but when I add one by entering the data, I’m not. It just enters one bottle. If I actually bought four, I have to go to my cellar, find the bottle, and change the quantity there.
  • I’d love the ability to add actual images of each bottle instead of the generic graphics that are currently used.
  • Wines are rated using an Amazon-like star system. My ratings are shown in a sort of brightish pinkish red. If I haven’t rated a wine, its rating is shown in a sort of darkish winish red. This is fine if both colors are on the same page, but when they’re not, I have a hard time remembering whether what I’m seeing is my rating or the system-wide average.

Don’t get me wrong. I like cork’d and think it’s a fun idea. I’m hoping that several friends will join and we can have quite the drinking party. But in its current form, it feels very much like a piece of software in beta.

I like the idea of Cork’d but it still feels very beta to me…