• by Kelly Samardak , December 18, 2008

La Cucina Italiana Holiday Party, SubZero/Wolf Showroom, New York
December 17, 2008

When I was little E.B. White's porcine parable, "Charlotte's Web" was the first book that made me cry. Huge, gasping, broken-hearted, burping gulps drenched in a cascade of obese tears. It's also the first book that introduced me to truffles. I thought "truffles" was another word for food garbage that farmers would feed to pigs since no one else would eat that stuff. But look! Templeton the rat was quite the misunderstood foodie, wasn't he? My past life as a waitress taught me that truffles were not garbage, but a rich and flavorful -- and quite expensive -- ingredient highly lauded by the discernable palette. Last night I did my best Templeton impression at the Italian cheese, wine, truffle, and olive oil extravaganza hosted by the magazine La Cucina Italiana, where the food I sampled didn't quite make me cry, but it did make me question if I hadn't been transported there by some sort of miraculous spider. I definitely ate like "some pig."

The location of last night's mouthwatering mastication mayhem was at the SubZero / Wolf Showroom -- so not only was I amazed by the spread being offered, but I also had the opportunity to glare with brain-bubbling jealousy at the beautiful appliances. That's right, I covet appliances. My +1 was the basil-martini-sweet Beth Palmer, currently a business analyst with the IBM Technology Adoption Program. We used to work together on that team, where she began as our intern (AKA mass mailer, wink wink). We checked our coats and immediately snagged slender flutes of prosecco from the man candy at the door. I surveyed the showroom. Surrounding the open kitchen were floor to ceiling windows that yawned upon the Bloomberg building - where I could practically see the post-it notes on peoples' desks.

Prosecco down, time to taste some vino! The path to the Banfi wine-tastin' table was lined with cheese. Soft yet firm squares of pale asiago were piled up next to a tasting flight (?) of olive oil. Flanking the olive oil was an oval of parmigiano reggiano that was quickly plucked up by fans of formaggio. The olive oil was really light and tasted a bit like grass. I mean that in a flattering way, like how beets taste like dirt -- it's like truly eating something of the earth. The Banfi people offered up two reds that didn't tickle my tannin button, but I'm a full-bodied kind of gal. The white "combo meal" as we called it (it's a classy term, people, get to know it) was a delicious dance of pinot grigio and chardonnay - but the show stopper was definitely the 100% pinot grigio, which is NEVER my first choice - but I'd drink this one by the caseload. Neill Trimble, Vice President, Advertising and Marketing for Banfi, was my bow-tie-sporting buddy. He made the night a family affair, bringing along his super polite daughters.

Seated by the fireplace filled with blown glass flames were Christoper Williams, Assistant Media Strategist, and Hewette Moore, both of TargetCast. Fresh from my out-of-body potato leek and truffle soup experience, I urged them to snap up a perfect portion themselves. I kid you not, when that thick touched-by-the-gods-of-underground-grown spuds liquid lazed over my tongue I slapped my +1 and said "how dare you trick me into thinking I belong here." It was truffle-tastic glory. I want to invent a suit that would encase me in that soup all day long. I'd stab my suit with a straw Capri Sun style and drink from it 24/7. It was that good.

Coming down from my truffle high, I sampled a pickled (I think) cauliflower salad, crispy baked fennel with a crunchy cheesy crust, some sort of ricotta noodle concoction that I didn't write down (for shame!) that was nice and light, though the noodles were escape artists on those darn plastic forks. I would never think to put basil in a martini, which is also why I'm not a beverage chef, but you haven't lived until you've sipped the snazzy combo of grapefruit juice, olive oil (yes, olive oil), mystery alcohol, and basil. My taste buds will not revive themselves for anything else now.

Heading back to the wine table, I ran into La Cucina's own Editor In Chief, Michael Wilson, Art Director, Sumo, Deputy Art Director, Josh Dake, and Food Editor, Mindy Fox. I also saw MediaPost's very own Phyllis Fine, Columns Editor, waiting for the roast pork with grapefruit. Standing nearby was Fern Siegel, MediaPost's Deputy Editor.

In two hours I managed to eat and drink eight hours worth of food and fine beverages. La Cucina Italiana's party served up the perfect holiday party blend of food, foodies, and a woman who shall remain nameless who, upon finding out that I work with John Capone, sniped that I should pass on her request that he do something to himself that usually requires another participant. What a lovely first impression.

By the way, I can still taste truffles.

Eat with me! Drink with me! See the pictures on Flickr!

Let's ring in 2009 together - invite kelly@mediapost.com to your party

Next time I have truffles, I'll tweet it on Twitter.