We all have our vices.

I can live without coffee, tea is just fine. Dare I say I could live without chocolate? Okay, I won’t go there just yet. But the mangosteen… The sweetest and most velvety of fruits I cannot live without. I decided this in 2005 when I had my first, and what I thought until recently, last taste.

Many have never heard of a mangosteen. The fruit looks like a freakishly juicy garlic in a tough, thick plum exterior. The taste is unbelievable. The flavor is a cross between tangerine, mango and papaya with a texture that is soft butter. It is the caviar of the fruit world. And you will pay near-caviar prices if you can find it outside the tropics.

I met the mangosteen in Shanghai, late August, 2005. I had just turned off Nanjing Road, a main shopping district, “booya-ing” my way through the crowd. (I know this sounds absolutely ridiculous, but I was told “bu” was a form of “no” and “boo-ya” was essentially, “no thank you” or “I don’t want.” As men approached offering to escort me to factories to purchase designer bags and DVDs, I simply droned a continuous stream of “booya” from my lips. I still think it sounds like I was having a plethora of “ah-ha” moments: Ah, booya! That’s what I thought.)

I turned off the main road and saw a man carrying a large basket of what I thought were plums over his shoulders. As he approached, I readied my booya when I noticed these were not plums at all. The fruit had cute little green caps and appeared to be garlic inside. For an unknown reason, I decided to buy the strange fruit. A few steps away I broke it open, frozen as this new sweetness filtered through my senses. I returned to where I had found the fruit vendor, looking to buy more, but he was gone. I returned the next day, and every day until I left, hoping he would return. I searched fruit markets and soon decided it must have all been an illusion. I would never find this fruit again. It did not exist.

Over breakfast one day I discussed this hallucination to some locals. Ah, the mangosteen, they knowingly smiled. But that was all. It was hard to find, I was lucky to find one. I left China with only a hint at this fruit never to find it again. I was lucky to have the name.

When I returned to New York, I scoured the internet seeking outlets for the fruit in my area. Surely, I thought, with such a large local Chinese population I could once again find this fruit smuggled through the lines. I printed a picture of the mangosteen and took to Chinatown, both Manhattan and Queens, on foot at different times of the year, hoping I could turn up the slightest lead or acknowledgment. Nothing. I thought surely I had lost this taste of paradise, only to be had should I return to Asia.

A recent trip to the Queens Chinatown for wonton wrappers turned into an unexpected surprise.

There is a supermarket in this neighborhood I visit that can leave me wandering aisles for hours. I can purchase anything from a wok to fish balls, to full, uncut oxtails to every imaginable ginger candy. It is a day’s excursion into the supermarket. My favorite aisle is the produce section. With a fresh seaweed bar, young ginger, purple potatoes, and more Asian pears than I knew existed, I can always find something fun. I picked up my wonton wrappers, some kimchee, hot bean sauce and rounded into the produce aisle.

I saw them right away. I cannot believe it! I said to my friend, A. There they were, tucked into a corner, 5 nylon sacks, each containing a few purplish orbs. I had found the mangosteen without actually seeking it out. (Although we could argue that all my trips into Chinatown are forever in search of the mangosteen.)

Most often, the best produce at this supermarket is fought over violently. I have been in the middle of a ruckus of senior citizens literally shoving me over for kumquats. Where were the crowds for the mangosteen? Were these people crazy to pass this sacred fruit? As I grabbed my bag, holding it close to my chest expecting a tackle, I noticed the price: $12.99 per pound.

I had to have them. I was an addict awaiting my fix. I waited 3 years for this moment and was not going to let this fruit depart my side.

What is it? A Jewish mango? A asked. Silly man! None for you! I turned wild eyed and raced to checkout.

Just over 2 pounds of my fruit came to $30 for 9 fruit, or $3 per fruit. Priced over a 3 year wait, I paid mere pennies per day for my future moments of joy. What a steal!

Sadly, I just finished my last mangosteen. Already shaking for more, I’m already contemplating going back to buy the remaining bags. Can I really wait another 3 years?

I’ll also mention I understand the huge burden on the environment when we chose imported fruits over local. Anyone who reads this blog regularly should know my stand in the debate. I do not purchase imported fruits on a regular basis, and as I said, this one mangosteen is a vice.

Sure, read all you want. It will help you understand the history of regions, what grows best where, and how we got the delicious Cabernet Sauvignon grape (a cross of Sauvignon Blanc and Cabernet Franc). But tell me Burgundy’s reds (read: Pinot) have an earthier, more leathery and downright “merde-y” (horse droppings) nose compared with their U.S. west coast sisters, which tend to lean towards cranberries and strawberries, and I’ll have little idea what you’re talking about. More likely, I’ll never taste a Burgundian red for fear of merde.

But head to a wine event and you will be more than pleasantly surprised.

When I go searching for a bottle of Pinot at the liquor store, I know to tell the merchant I prefer Burgundian-style Pinots, not the New World style. Meaning what? I can more often find a bottle of reasonably priced wine I will enjoy– even if do not know the producer.

My Pinot lessons came to me in a great flood of red at a wine event called Pinot Days. For two days I subjected myself to drinking copious amounts of delicious Pinot Noir, speaking with wine makers, and sitting through tasting flights to compare regions head-to-head. It was true torture swallowing all that wine, but I survived. I even have a few new favorite vineyards from the experience.

The lessons I picked up at this event and others, have stayed with me more than any book. It is when you drink wine, with someone knowledgeable to guide you, that you can truly retain information (at least that’s how my brain works). After all, it’s in the experience.

If you have the opportunity, and enjoy wine, I implore you to visit an upcoming wine event. Most are open to the public and offer tastings of some fabulous wines you would never pay for on your own. Better still, you will probably walk away with a new favorite style or producer.

Some upcoming wine events in 2007 around the country include:

• Wine Spectator Magazine hosts their New York Wine Experience, October 25-27.
• Head to Kohler, WI for the Kohler Food & Wine Experience, October 26-28.
• The Denver International Wine Festival is November 1-4.
• The next Pinot Days will take place November 9-10 in Chicago, IL.
• Heading to Yosemite, CA November 4-December 6? Check out The Vitner’s Holiday.
• The Food Network hosts their Wine and Food Festival November 16 in NYC.
• Local Wine Events carries smaller listings by cities of upcoming wine functions. Also check local event websites for more area happenings.

This  post was also published on Associated Content.

This was the vacation of the farm.

I found a great raw milk dairy and farm just outside Indianapolis that offers bi-monthly courses on cheese making, milling grains, breads, jams, canning and more. Our stay happened to fall upon a cheese-making course. D, his family and I sampled a range of fantastically hay-scented cheeses, creams

and spreads while we learned how to make ricotta, sour cream, buttermilk, creme fraiche and more. The farm has a cow share program, offering its raw milk to shareholders. We weren’t able to take home the milk, but we made due with some raw (not for human consumption) butter, fresh eggs (the darkest yolks I have ever seen), grass-fed beef, and fantastically rich chocolate milk from a nearby minimally pasteurized dairy.

The Indiana State Fair, as always, was the highlight. Correction: the Dairy Barn at the Indiana State Fair was the highlight. Double Correction: Pioneer Village is always the highlight, but how can you resist 25 cent milk refills?

I took my share of photos containing signs tooting deep fried edibles (Pepsi being the strangest) and we chatted about how the Fair was now frying in non-hydrogenated oils (recently featured in the NYTimes along with a piece about raw milk a few days after I wrote about it). This year’s Fair was “The Year of

Corn” evident from the Agribusiness-touting signs in front of corn stalks all around the Fairgrounds. There was also a room displaying about 30 (even though there are thousands) products chock full of corn. All hail for mono-cultures…

D and I also decided that we would call our country’s other great monoculture, soy, edamame at the Fair, asking folks what they thought about our nation’s great edamame boom. Unfortunately, “The Year of C

orn” had very little edamame praise around. Maybe next year.

The next day, D and his mother made a purchase of a beautiful blue grill that his mother proceeded to call the “Colt Grill” (after the football team). Later that night we apparently made “Colt burgers” though I

noted we probably don’t want to call everything we make on the grill “Colt X.” Other than the “Colt burgers,” which were really beef steaks. D’s mother also mentioned that she had a fabulously memorable salad at a new restaurant in town that contained peaches. That night, we grilled up some peaches to create our own version of the salad.

The salad was truly the highlight of the meal. It was colorful and full of texture and flavors. From the sour crumble of the blue cheese, the sweet syrupy nature of the peaches to the crisp freshness of the

cucumbers. A hit that will be made again before the summer comes to an end.

The next day we witnessed cow milking and some real free-range chickens at a farm that was part agri-tainment. We headed to the farmer’s market on-site where D’s mother proclaimed we needed some meat to make our Colt burgers for the night.

“Uhhh… she’s talking about the football team, we’ll just take some pork chops.”

“You guys must really like football.”

We headed home and relaxed for our last night together, grilling up the last of the season’s “Colt burgers.”

Grilled Peach Salad
Serving Size= 4. Active Time= 15 minutes.
2 ripe peaches (or nectarines)
1 medium-sized head red leaf lettuce (or other lettuce)
1/2 cucumber
1 ripe Hass avocado
1/2 cup crumbled blue cheese (or like cheese)
1/4 cup mixed (or Kalamata olives) optional
juice of 1 lemon
3 tablespoons plus 2 tablespoons olive oil
salt/ pepper to taste

1) Ready gas or charcoal grill. While grill is warming, prepare salad:
2) Slice peaches into 8 segments. Carefully pull apart each segment and brush all sides with the 2 tablespoons olive oil, set aside.
3) Wash and drain the lettuce, add it to the salad bowl. Slice the cucumber, avocado, crumble the blue cheese and add them to the lettuce. Top with olives, sprinkle lemon juice and remaining 3 tablespoons olive oil over salad. Add salt and pepper to taste.
4) Grill the two meat sides of the peaches until blackened, about 3 minutes each side. Careful when transporting peaches to the salad bowl as they will be juicy and can easily fall apart. The sugars will have caramelized adding a fabulous color and scent to the peaches.
Note: No grill? Mimic the grill in your broiler! Broil your fruit about 3 minutes each side, until blackened for a similar great taste!