A delicious secret in French cuisine combines fresh ground pepper with sweet strawberries and Mendocino has captured it in a bottle: "PEPPERBERRY"!Sadly, Pepperberry was only around for a couple years. When it became clear that the flavor was being phased out, I purchased a six-pack of the single-serving bottles and deposited them on the staircase-to-nowhere in our Vallejo flat. It had been less than two years since I moved in, so the steps weren't as "impacted" with my piles of books and papers as they would later become. Periodically, I would be forced to rearrange those piles in search of something I needed for my research and would find the Pepperberry buried beneath, covered in the ample dust of 617 Napa Street.
Needless to say, I moved the six-pack to Tucson. It has been sitting on the bottom shelf of our cleaning supplies-and-liquor Rubbermaid cabinet in the garage ever since. A few months back, I decided to put a bottle in the fridge for eventual consumption. Today, trying to make room for all the leftovers from our party, I took the plunge, supplementing the somewhat dissipated carbonation of the Pepperberry with a little Gerolsteiner. Delicious!!!
Now, given the positive associations I have with Pepperberry -- many of my best times with Kim have been spent in the Mendocino area -- I will have to save the empty bottle along with other fragile memorabilia -- I have boxes for that sort, as well as for papers -- and find an appropriate time to consume the other five bottles.
I've also taken the liberty of documenting the bottle in which this delicious beverage came -- the sadness of the past tense is overwhelming -- to commemorate its eccentric grandeur:
Doesn't it look like the strawberry on top is crying?
I realize that people collect wine. But there seems to be an important difference between collecting something that it is deemed reasonable to collect and something that makes people shake their heads in bemused mock dismay. Then again, I suppose that reaction is preferable to the sort with which the collecting of Nazi memorabilia is met.
Anyway, I'm wondering how much I should read into the fact that I boldly drank the Pepperberry this morning, not to mention that I adulterated it for the sake of taste. Maybe I'm going to start collaring the day in order to shake the loose change from its pockets.
