1217 18th Street (at 18th and Capitol)
Ok, ok, it's been awhile. Frankly, the heat wave knocked us down. The thought of turning on the oven, or even quickly using the stove was criminal. When your a/c runs 24/7 and you have the thermostat set to 81, you might as well just rent a dumpster, fill it with cash and deliver it to SMUD for the amount of money you'd end up wasting if you added to the heat in any way. Showers were set to a mandatory 70 degrees for fear of steaming up the bathroom. Like it's not humid enough outside?!
So, we holed up. Too hot to get in the car and go anywhere. Too hot to turn on the oven or the stove. You're risking heat stroke if you even think about standing outside over the gas grill. In fact, don't even look at the grill. We were prisoners in our home, shamelessly wandering around in as little clothing we could get away with without offending any neighbors that should happen to pass by our window. I even got to the point where I considered sitting around in my bikini. It's as naked as you can get in public and still not be considered underwear. Did it matter that we don't own a pool? I think not.
I'm telling you, it was worse than winter, the ultimate cabin-fever time of year. Instead, we were trapped indoors, looking out at what seemed like a blissful summer day. Every time leaves swayed in the breeze, my brain was fooled, instantly sounding the "75 with a breeze!" alarm. It only took something like 8 out of the 11 days of the heatwave from hell for me to stop running to the door only to find a wall of 117 degrees, insane humidity and hot wind raging back at me.
On Day 9 of the heatwave, things got stupid. Like some idiot camper in a horror movie, being trapped in our safe hold for just a minute past too long forced us into the same kind of stupidity that makes the camper decide that maybe the serial killer outside wasn't around anymore and now would be a good time to open the door and take a step outside. We weren't camping, instead .... we grilled. Oh, my friends, it gets even more insane. We *slow* grilled AND finished the meat off ....In.The.OVEN. I tell you, we were courting the devil. Or defying him. Either way, at that point, if we didn't make the Slow-Cooked Lexington-style Pulled Pork BBQ from the August issue of Cook's Country, well, then the terrorists would win.
The beauty of the recipe, on a nice day, is that it takes what is typically a 12 hour process and condenses it down to 4-5 hours. The geniuses of culinary science that are the editors of Cook's Country had tested their hypotheses relentlessly until they found the magic alchemy that is 4 hour pulled pork BBQ. In my defense, I offer these: A)Nothing says summer like BBQ B)Clearly the Cook's Country editors had no clue their issue would arrive during a heatwave C)I held off on cooking the BBQ even though I slept with the issue open to the BBQ next to my bed for a week (I swear this is true) and D)the accompanying recipe was Creamy Buttermilk Coleslaw and that promised to be nice and cool.
So, we invited the family over, got the grill ready....and I left to go to work! Leaving my husband to attend to the 2 hours of slow cooking and smoking on the grill, then transferring the meat to a roasting pan and into the oven at 275 for another 2-3 hours (for our 4lb pork shoulder it was "fork ready" in 2 hours). I came home in time to throw together the coleslaw. Sure, we were all sweating like pigs and fighting over the primo spot in front of the a/c register, but we all agreed it was SO worth it. Tangy, with a hint of heat and sweetness. Tender, smoked. We served it on good white buns with bread-and-butter pickles on the side, freshly grilled Sloughouse corn and of course, the phenomenally good buttermilk coleslaw. And you know, to eat this Southern buffet, it should be humid and hot, sticky and buggy outside.
Of course, we also all agreed it will serve as a wonderful relief from the winter doldrums this coming winter.
So, we finally decided we were slacking in our commitment to getting out and eating. After all, new eateries are popping up all over Sacramento, and you can only read their menus on line for so long before you just have to give it a shot. So, with it being the tail-end of our malicious heatwave, there was only one place that sounded exactly like what we needed: 58 Degrees & Holding Company Wine Shop and Bar. 58 degrees refers to the ideal temperature at which to store wine (although I do think this is debatable, given the existence of 55 Degrees in Las Vegas ... a wine bar named for the same idea), but mind over matter, people. Regardless of the temperature of the bar, it would at least feel cooler, thanks to the name.
Located on 18th right around the corner from Zocalo's, 58 Degrees is the newest reason to pay $5 for valet parking on 18th and Capitol. It is both a wine store, which is fairly large and nicely stocked (a small gasp of glee escaped my lips as I discovered the Cakebread Cabernet they had on their racks), as well as a small wine bar/lounge. It's very pretty with exposed brick, high ceilings, rough wood, concrete floors - a very wine cellar feeling. It's also pretty small, with just a few small top tables, a lounge area with some armchairs and coffee tables, a long bar and a few tables outside (the lure of the patio during our typical Delta-breeze nights is somewhat dampened by the unfortunate West-facing patio that gets full sun until there is sun no more).
We got there just before 6pm on a Thursday for after-dinner drinks and eats. We were just about the only people in the place, giving us the pick of our table, but within 40 minutes the bar was full. It's safe to say that you must possess a "lounging" and "relaxed" mentality when arriving at 58 Degrees - the seating is first-come, first-serve and the limited seating itself means sometimes, as with the best bars, you might find yourself standing with your wine glass in hand, one eye on your companion, and another on any potential tables or chairs opening up. Still, 58 Degrees is not for those who are looking to Sit Down for Dinner. Rather, it's ideal for a "let's go for a drink, maybe some food if we get hungry". Some days this can be a set-back, and some days it's just what you need. And when you need it, 58 Degrees does it exceptionally well.
The wine list is extensive, with each offering available in a taste (3 oz), glass (6 oz) or bottle. I started with a glass of the Patassy Pinot Noir, which my helpful and attentive waitress guided me towards on my search for the fruitiest pinot on the list. Later, after finishing, I moved on to a taste of the Mason Sauv Blanc (to go with my dinner - more on that later), which was just enough to accompany my meal without stopping me from driving my car later. In fact, I think next time I'll only order the tastes, so as to maximize my wine experience.
We started off with an order off their small plates menu of the Trio of Bruschetta. Of six choices, you choose three. We chose the Grilled Eggplant (with roasted garlic and goat cheese), Cherry Tomatoes (with capers and cilantro), and the Leeks (with truffled mushroom tapenade). The presentation was clean and beautiful, and each piece of bruschetta had already been halved for us, saving a world of annoyance and arguments over who got the bigger piece. We each started with a different kind - he with the Eggplant (amazingly flavorful), me with the Cherry Tomatoes (ridiculously fresh and delicious given the simplicity). We argued over which was actually better, until we had the Leeks which was the winner, hands down. Rich was so bowled over by the Leeks that in true gluttonous fashion declared that next time, he was only going to get the Leeks bruschetta. I won't go that far - after all the Eggplant and Tomato bruschettas were amazing, but yeah, the Leek was out of this world.
For our main dishes, he chose the Grilled Steak Sandwich (with brie, watercress and roasted garlic aioli). I was impressed when the waitress asked how he'd like his steak cooked (medium-rare). It was excellent, in a word. The steak was thinly sliced, cooked as ordered, and very tender. I usually shy away from ordering steak sandwiches for fear of the typical tearing of meat and all around unattractiveness that comes with eating one. He was having no such problems and finished it off easily. I went for the Roasted Turkey Panini (with dill havarti, country artichoke pesto, shaved red onion and arugula). I also added the green salad on the side for $3. The salad was, although fresh, pretty pedestrian, especially given the wonderful flavors we'd so far been treated to. There was nothing wrong with it, just fresh greens and a very simple oil and vinegar dressing. Not worth the $3 I'd say. However the Panini was delicious, and I had a tough time giving up even one bite to Rich.
Another item of note is the size of the sandwiches - they were reasonable. Totally un-American. They weren't 1/3 the size of the dinner plate. It was appropriate portions, which I appreciate, especially given my tendency to over-eat when drinking.
Speaking of over-eating, we went straight for dessert without even stopping for the obligatory hemming and hawing and "should we's" and "are we hungry enough's". I have no clue how we bypassed the Warm Chocolate Lava Cake except to say that it was still 100+ outside and so we naturally gravitated to the Gelato Trio. We were given a choice of three gelatos out of five, and chose the traditional standbys of Espresso Bean, Chocolate and Vanilla Bean. Delicious, and a perfect end. The scoops of each were generously sized, so neither of us felt gypped. Well, I didn't at least. I'm sure Rich wouldn't have been upset to see a bowl arrive twice as large as the one that did. It came garnished with a small piece of almond biscotti - the one misstep as you'd think they'd spare a second since we were sharing the dish. Regardless, the gelato (not made in-house) was wonderful, and a perfect end.
Excellent stop for an after-work glass of wine and small plates. I was overall very impressed with the care, quality and presentation of the food, given the limited menu and overarching purpose as a wine bar.
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