Smith-Madrone

Two brothers, both alike in dignity…oh wait that’s an Elizabethan deep-ish cut and we aren’t talking Capulets and Montagues. This is California family, celebrating 50 years of fine fine vino. The name points to the Smith brothers, Charles and Stuart, as well to the Madrone trees on the property. And gosh they do sound like fun. The brothers, not the trees. I’m basing this on the fact that they hail from Santa Monica and that Stuart is an “active member of the G.O.N.A.D.S, (the Gastronomical Order for Nonsense and Dissipatory Society”. Also for their 50th they partnered with Cowgirl Creamery so like, yay people who see fit to involve cheesemongers in their affairs.

Spoiler alert–if you taste one thing from Smith-Madrone let it be their extraordinary Riesling. I was about to say it literally kills but that’s just bad grammar. But it does SLAY. The other two wines I tasted, a Chardonnay and Cab were delightful in their own right, but I was also chuffed to see such a Riesling out of Napa, where these things don’t grow on trees. I mean obviously they grow on grapevines but there aren’t many of them devoted to Riesling, so this was really excited.

Stop me from rambling. Here’s my reviews! And pairings. OMG. Here we go.

Smith-Madrone Napa Valley Spring Mountain Chardonnay 2018

It just keeps on giving. Came on almost too strong at first–nearly sweet in its richness. Buttery caramel corn with a spritz of Meyer lemon nose. But on the palate things get ripping. Mouth watering. And downright…well heck was that caramel corn treated to an ample sprinkle of flour de set because there is something saline going on too. Let it linger. In the glass. And it brings overripe blood orange, white chocolate even? Truly one of those delights for its ability to bring something new and delicious with every sip. There’s an almost herbal undercurrent. It’s good times. And a little marine or is that the salinity I was just citing? Pair with the latest Succession episode.

Smith-Madrone Napa Valley Spring Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon 2019

Rich n ripe, plush and silky. Green but like richly moss forest green Cabernet pyrizines tickle the tannins which are persistent, I’ll give them that they are like me in a dysfunctional relationship, unable to give up, but these tannins will make their case known and I will not break up with them. They are followed with black cassis and oaky fun–vanilla, maybe a toasty nut, and is that maybe even coconut omg it draws out the finish. All the richness ends with a hit of what I can only describe as marine blue freshness. That is probably my synesthesia–maybe some salinity or fresh herbal notes is a better way to describe it but to me it is undeniably marine blue. I paired it with a walnut while drinking it (go crazy, Elle) and lemme tell you a little protein goes a long way.

Smith-Madrone Napa Valley Spring Mountain Riesling 2018

One whiff gave me all the omg this is RIESLING feels–golden delicious apple plus petrol and a bit of orange blossom. The palate is voluptuous as a dry (I think?) Riesling can go. It’s deep and rich in fruit yet not overly ripe or cloying. Still on the palate I got on the nose notes, plus an overdose of honeysuckle and ALMOST buttery notes? It is light to the touch yet creamy but zippy, omg it’s egg cream vibes without the chocolate flavor? And then the characteristic sword of Riesling acidity cutting through. Allspice and slightly bark earthy notes come through on the finish. Pair with the latest Mandalorian.

Happy Malbec Day, Bad Beaks!

Wooo-eeeee Malbec has some mysterious etymology ranging from “Mal + Bec” (bad + Beak) referring to the vino turning your lips (your beak) red, to it actually just referring to badmouthing to it referencing Dr. Malbeck, who purportedly brought the grape to Bordeaux.

Bad for your beak or not, it is good in the glass. I wrote a whole bunch more about the grape here, so go and read forth if you want more fun factoids. In the meantime I have a fun n delicious and easy on the eyes, easy on the palate Malbec to recommend if you need more specific ways to celebrate the day.

This year I’m cracking open the Graffigna “Glorious” Collection Malbec 2020. It comes from the Valle de Uco, a subregion of Mendoza notable for elevation contributing to more lifted and acidic offerings. Let’s go old-school with WSET-ish style tasting notes here, shall we? Then I’ll go metaphorical.

Appearance: Deep opaque purple with slight fuchsia tinting at the rims. Thick slow tears.

Nose: Medium plus notes of ripe purple plum, blackberry, violets cinnamon and a hint of mint. Youthful.

Palate: Dry, medium acid, medium fine-grained ripe tannins, high alcohol (14.5%), medium plus flavor intensity, medium complexity. Flavors of (again) purple plum, blackberry, slight mint and licorice, hints of pepper even, and rose petal with slight salinity and more dried fruit quality rolling in on the medium plus finish.

Metaphorically though, this wine is a robe. Like the most luxurious deep purple bathrobe you could hope for. I had a purple bathrobe as a youth, of the softest, most cuddly terrycloth you could wish for. As someone who overheats I’m not sure how I decided I wanted that robe but in cold St. Louis winters it warmed my heart and also somehow felt sophisticated because until I acquired it, bathrobes were for adults. Anyway. This wine is heartening like the warm hug of that robe but with a hint of elevation. The most important robe.

Languedoc Love

For a good while, if a Languedoc wine came around I tended to shy away–because I never knew what I was gonna get. What would it be? How would it be? Good? Bad? Strong? Weak? EXCEPTIONAL? Or a meh for the price?

But back then my misgivings mostly concerned quality. Today, my not-misgivings-per-se have more to do with style–but that is a good thing! The range of wine styles available from the Languedoc is extensive–I wrote about it first here and now, two years later I am always wanting to explore the region further, sousing out the individual subregions, adding favorites to my list to be checked twice.

Of course having gone to the region, walked the soils (limestone, old schist, and even older schist figured prominently), met the winemakers–oh, and tasted the berries straight of the vine–all of this helped me grow my reverence for the region. Um what can I tell you? It’s in the south of France, west of Provence. From shore toward up in the Pyrenees means there is a variety of soils, breezes, and elevations, hence the ability to make a variety of styles.

But variety is the spice of life, no? Ooh ooh! And get ’em while the price is good! I got an assortment of new-to-me Lango wines (can I coin Lango as a term, like Lambo but wine?) to try. It was a delight. Here are my notes.

OBVI I have to start with he kittykat named one:

Château des Adouzes Le Tigre Faugères 2020

It does have a certain feline energy. For all the stuffing of big ol’ grapes (Carignan, Grenache, Syrah) it is rather sleek. Like a stealthy meower. Smells super fresh. Feels surprisingly light on its toes with medium-svelte but tickley tannins. Gliding acidity. Blue and red fruit out the wazoo. Bits and bobs of garrigue–lavender sage and so on but it all ends on a lightly peppered licorice note. I’m into it. Le Tigre. Meow.

Domaine de Montrose Rosé 2022

Very light n bright, zingy even. Lurve that they are at carbon neutrality. It gives all the wet stone and red roses, ripe red raspberries, fun fun fun nose. The plate is silky but as I said, zingy. All the nose plus some tangerine fun and hints of…ashtray in a good way? Somewhere between potting soil and white pepper.

Domaine de Montrose 1701 Rosé 2022

A Roussanne blend no wonder my amour. The freshness. The subtle citrus and stone fruit zipped through with avid and lavished with whey. Its a damn pretty wine.

Domaine de Montrose “Salamandre” IGP Côtes de Thongue 2020

Excited alcohol and everything make an excited (again) swallow so um, give it a moment. Sparkly red fruit. Slightly leathery red fruit. All at once. Deep-cut sort of acid-alcohol zing and that’s okay. It brings earthy, black and blueberry fruits (fresh and jammed) it gives both brightness and weighty vibes all at once. Fun fun fun.

Olivier Coste RARE Carignan Blanc 2022

So aromatic! I hadn’t even gotten the glass to my nose and I felt a flood of citrus, white flower and chalk aromas streaming upwards. Nose deeper in I get orange blossom and honeysuckle–it smells sweet. But its dry. Lively, light bodied with further florals verging on white pepper, and hints of grass, with a finish that calls to mind lanolin. Not super concentrated, but with some complexity. Easy to drink.

Luxuriate

Napa, schmapa. I get all jaded like it’s expensive and exclusive and pricy and whatnot but then sometimes I open a bottle of Napa Cab and am like Oh. Hey there handsome!

Here’s to leaning into the popular! Delicious, delicious popular wine.

The winery, Davis Estates, is in Calistoga, the most northerly of Napa subregions. It is family-owned. And the president is a woman–shout out to Jessica Link! At any rate, I leaned into these wines. Anyone who truly knows me knows I am a sucker for a nice nice nice like nicccccce Chardonnay. Which theirs is, but also I thoroughly enjoyed the Cab and red blend.

Indulge yourself. I did. Myself. Indulge.

Davis Estates Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon 2019 This is wickedly redolent of black currant jams and purple plums, burnished with something that tickles the nose–call it pyrizines, call it pepper, call it the abv? But the nose finish (noses finish too) brings seductive vanilla. I seriously envision a woman in silk at the end of a sniff. It’s still wildly young, of course, but I enjoy a youthful wine. The tannins are definitely medium plus but to put in WSET Diploma terms I would say they are medium plus and dry, but velvety and optimally integrated, playing well of the ripe ripe fruit flavors, which on the palate bring more currants, black plums, cigar box (aka vanilla, and…okay just straight up cigar), and the teeniest tiniest hint of arugula. This is good juice.

Davis Estates First Responders Napa Valley Chardonnay 2020 Golden in hue and taste–the nose intrigues with pear, bruised yellow apple, vanilla bean and allspice. The palate is sumptuous, with terrific balance of acidity and buttered body. A touch of salted caramel carries…you know what? I’m thinking a dab of apple pie on a saltine. An agile, agile saltine. Sounds odd? Try it. I haven’t, but I feel like it would be a win win. Expansive with a core of buttered fruit. Plus, it benefits local responders!

Davis Estates Zephyr Private Reserve 202052% Cab Sauvignon, 30% Merlot, 10% Cabernet Franc, 2% Petit Verdot Tis an elegant fountain pen, with spiced berry medley punch and cigar box on the nose. Makes me picture a bed lined with satin sheets that both retain and give off heat level excitement on the palate. Rich body, but subtle, like a wealthy person with enough class to not be ostentatious. Firm and integrated tannins hold up a medley (yes another medley!) of blackberry compote, cedar, vanilla, and allspice. Drinking it feels like someone cloaking me in a fur lined jewel trimmed cloak.

No Holds Barra

I was generously offered the wines of Barra to try, and I’ll be honest, they had me at Mendocino. It’s region I had started a love affair with before I even breathed its air.

Then, I visited–the first trip I took post vaccine–and omg there was romance added to the love affair, like the lover becoming a real person, one who surprises you and becomes more a whole person, while maintaining their mystique because damn, every precious thing you discover about them, well, each quirk and nuance makes each day with them a new one. Sure, I only spent a few days in Mendocino but I am madly enraptured with the land, the people and yes the wine too.

So yes obvi I wanted to taste the wines. Barra is made with certified organic grapes and coaxed into wine status by Randy Meyer, who, much like many other Mendocino winemakers I met, holds hats for a few operations. He’s steering Barra and its other label Girasole, and he has a custom crush joint.

I appreciated the note that arrived with the wines informing me they don’t print tech sheets, but please find the information online. I end up with major tech sheet pile up sometimes so this is a good step. The wines followed suit–all showing a freshness that chills out a ripeness, and all over makes for balanced delight.

Barra Mendocino Reserve Chardonnay 2021

Just that hint of gunflint-y minerality battles the marshmallow and vanillin effect of oak and in the end they partner up quite happily. Warming nose, filled with aforementioned minerals and nutmeg, citrus compound butter and yellow pear, full-figured body (not quite voluptuous) brings all of the above, all with a bit butterscotch. Lovely and silky and just rich enough to be a winter white but lively enough to face a hot day too.

Barra Mendocino Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon 2020

All vibrant blackberry and black currant (so different from red) jam on the nose with hints of tobacco and just a touch of dried vine zest–JUST a tiny touch, like one finger gently place on the lips telling the pyrazines to whisper. Supple on the palate, neither heavy nor light, but somehow more than medium bodied–like it glides with some drag–and boasts expansive stewed berries (mostly black and blue) thinned just enough to slide through the mouth guiding professor-ly (like they wear tweed) hints of black currant, vanilla bean through. Shades of dried earth and cloves come in in the finish. It manages to be bright and classy, despite having rather elevated tannins and alcohol. Very friendly.

Barra Reserve Pinot Noir 2021

A nice little slip dress of a Pinot. A noir one, naturally. Lithe, pleasing, easy going. The nose brings ripe but not jammy cherries and makes me think “cherry Gushers” but not sweet. A mid-level palate, this wine has a texture to it, with drying tannins, that serve as a conductor of all the undercurrents in this wine–cola, tea, and mint. The big currents though? The ones that parade loudly? That’s more cherry. Vanilla bean. Allspice and cordial. Truly a pleasing specimen–and one of the things that endears me to Mendocino is evident here in spades: the fruit is ripe but not overly jammy or overly oaky, sort of how Oregon Pinots show to me these days. Damn this is good.

Sweets My Sweet

Every year Valentine’s Day happens. Of course. Same as every year, every yearly thing happens and yet somehow it throws us for a loop. It’s astounding how every late autumn we are like “OH. My. GOD. It is getting dark so early!” as if that hadn’t been happening at the same time every year all of our lives.

Still some things seem like big things. Valentine’s Day needn’t be. I’m comfy being single. There is romance in my life here and there but until I find my lobster I’m chill celebrating it single.

Oh um well that is until love finds me. I yearn for that but also oh f#*k I’m kinda busy for all that so why don’t I open some sweet wine for everyone.

Romancing one’s self (take that whatever direction you want) is an art. Wine is art. And wine as romance makes you the goddamned Mona Lisa for a minute. Today I have a sweet charmer to act both as a love letter to yourself and/or companions. It is actually a fortified wine–that is the wine is made and then there is extra alcohol added. That was way too simplified a description of the process, but that’s for another day. In the meantime, here’s your Valentine:

Gigondas La Cave Terres Blonde Muscat Beams de Venise is lithe, stone fruit forward with a solid lick of salinity and zooms of hyper-orange-blossom-water. Elegant and zing-y, light on its toes with a core of minerality. And yes it is sweet, but you know how you eat a nice ripe piece of fruit and yes, it is sweet, but “this is sweet!” is not what you would say, but rather, “this is a good piece of fruit”? Well, this wine is a good piece of fruit. Sort of a floral melon genre undervibe, and all over refreshing, too. hot air balloon vibes in that it is vibrant but lifted and soaring in an anchored sort of way. To sum up the tasting notes, it’s all melon and stone fruit and white roses that chill on wet stones.

How Bizarro

I’m gonna take this moment to be really honest and say I am not sure what life will bring. In my core I’m an actor. In my core I’m also a wine person. But I love to write. I want to write things to act in. But also I always want to bring the food and beverage fun to you. I am figuring it out. One way or another I will be there for you, whether toiling through a pilot as I am now, or tasting canned cocktails like the warrior kitty-cat-kats I am. Thank you for being here.

And because life is nuts, let us drink Bizzarro. Bizzarro itself is an aperitivo. I haven’t had it straight from the bottle, but based on the canned cocktails using it, I surmise I’d find it handy on my bar cart. It comes from Australia, made by Deliquente (they do have a thing for augmented spelling) Wine Co, a producer working with Italian varieties in Riverland.

Considering the name, Deliquente not at all bizarre, but wise and good for the world, sustainable and organic. Good stuff! And (once again the opposite of bizarre, not that there’s anything wrong with that) they taste good too. They are mysterious the way an amaro or an exceptional egg salad is. Full of flavors you can’t quite point at, but just right in fullness, texture, and I can’t explain it, but my spirit is along for the ride.

And now for the particulars:

Bizarro Bitter Aperitivo Spritz

Made with Vermentino. It has orange soda themes with b stories of myrrh, something hitting at grapefruit, and unsweet creamsicle. And then the thing is it’s a great texture–not too bubbly, but plush bubs. It all provides a nice platform to notes of wicked herbs and witches brew. . Don’t know how to define “witch’s brew” but it reminds me of incense I burned when I was a Wiccan.

Bizarro Mischief Brew

It’s low-abv, it’s a touch incense myrhh and frankincense and maybe candied (but not sugared) grapefruit rind. And lifted and light and rosewater. And then there’s that finish of creme soda. More funtimes!

What does the future hold? Well hopefully more delightful things to inspire and distract me in equal turns–too much of one or the other is no good but a balance of both is a delight. On we go.

Bring in the New

Spoiler alert, I’m gonna talk about the super fun bubbles from Argentina you too could be ringing in the new year with at the end, but first, how about a little catch up?

What a year it has been. Actually, it’s the first year in a while that has felt like a real REAL year, with in-person stuff and everything. And yet I have so many things I want to be better in 2023. I want to feel refreshed, because I am still a touch torn down. I usually keep it light and breezy here but I’m going to be real, the last few years have been a special sort of hell, with the occasional kiss of heaven, and I know not just for me. Physically and emotionally I’ve been through some shit, from seizures due to my body’s inability to maintain a reasonable level of sodium, to a bunch I won’t get into. But it’s been an exhausting few years.

Of course there has been the good too. I went to Italy twice last year. I keep saying that to myself because it feels like a triumph. I wrote a boatload, both scripts and wine/spirits/food stuff. I acted in some animated things and a spec episodic show, and took part in a bajillion table reads of other people’s scripts. I figured out I’m definitely bisexual. Late blooming but here I am–sex with women is great! Highly recommend. I started my own writer group, which has been invaluable both for the camaraderie and for forcing me to actually finish scripts–oh yeah I also finished a pilot and have the outline for a movie.

So what now in 2023? Honestly, so far the only big plan I have is too keep a “best of” contenders list of things I drink so that I can round them up and in a year share them with you. I taste a TON of things and my computer brain usually puts them in the “this is useful now or could be in the future for an article” but I seldom make a note when my mind gets blown. Maybe I’m not getting blown enough take that to mean what you will. Anyway. That’s my promise is in a year I’m gonna have a “best of” list. I’m also going to look for representation for my script writing. I also plan to continue healing my soul and keeping my health (and electrolytes) up and keep acting and…OH big thing…

I’m gonna start a Youtube wine show. It’ll be a crossing of wine education with some silliness thrown in and I want it to be both useful, and a place people can tune into because they’ll feel like I am their own personal wine buddy. Right now the working name is “Taste with Elle” cause that gives me leeway to throw in the occasional cocktail of food note. I’ll let you know.

And I AM gonna get a cat. Another black cat because ever since having one I can’t go back. I’ve been spending a lot of time scrolling for pussy and not just cause the bi thing.

But what to drink for the new year?! I am drinking this on New Year’s Eve eve actually but carry it forth with you as an idea for the future! I’m 99.99 sure I have not had traditional method sparkling wine from Argentina. I am putting it out there that I have-not been to a wine region in the Southern Hemisphere. Argentina, you don’t have to cry for me if you bring me to your vineyards.

So, I give you your new thing for 2023…MASCOTA VINEYARDS UNÁNIME SPARKLING WINE. It’s an intriguing blend of 85% Chardonnay and 15% Malbec, straight out of the Uco Valley, a subregion of Mendoza that boasts ridiculously high altitude. It exudes rich n ripe vibes straight out of the glass and into my nose–I smell ripe pears, pineapple, honey and sweet corn. Full body with a friendly sparkle, the bubbles are subdued. All the aromas come out in flavors on the palate, plus some browned applesauce and caramel drizzle. It’s a voluptuous but tenderhearted bubbly, outspoken but gentle.

Try it.

One last “for 2023” thing…getting even more acquainted with bubblies from around the world. I need to do that. That was the test I came closest to not passing in my WSET Diploma. And (one more MAYBE) if I decide to go after my MW I need to be on point for EVERYTHING.

But most of all myself. I can be here for you but I can’t let myself treat me poorly. The last few years I’ve been trying to get back on track. And I will.

Bord—eaux. Bored? No.

Off the bat, when I think of Bordeaux, I think Big Reds. Big Cabs. Bodacious Merlots. Banging blends? Um, when was the last time anyone actually called anything banging?

And yet I do appreciate a big personality.

Somehow big, with charisma, translates in my head to bang-able. So hey! Bangable Bordeaux blends it is. Especially the whites and Sauternes. They are sexy AF and I will never not say that, unless climate warming royally fucks us in the unenjoyable, not bang-able way.

Although! Bordeaux, as a region, is on top of adapting to climate change, having recently approved some new varieties, ones perhaps more at home in warmer climes. Who knows, the region could be on track for continued success. They’ve essentially been killing it since the marriage of Eleanor of Aquitaine to Louis IV (see it WAS sex appeal) and, oh shoot now it’s a complicated history of allegiances between England and France and…okay anyway that was in 1137, this has turned into a ramble but Bordeaux has been a stalwart ever since. In the wine world.

But with the new kids aka anyone born after, say, 1980-ish? Not so much. They (including me) have not been so keen on the region. The thing is, the big Bordeaux wines hit a pricing bubble. And got associated with old-school taste buds. And here’s the other thing–there are a ton of wines from the region with reasonable prices, especially the whites. And then we get to my true love, Sauternes. Which suffers as people don’t think they are supposed to be into sweet wines but my dudes, my dudettes, my duds and milk duds, they can be quite perfect.

Anyway I had the opportunity to taste some Bordeaux delights, nah, good enough for me to call them bangers, and here’s a Bordeaux Blanc and Sauternes delight. Get down.

Clos Floridene Graves 2019

The spectacular thing to me is that through all the ripe ripppppe mandarin, fresh cut grass and treacle nose, beyond the ripe peach and lemon-mandarin orange-honeysuckle palate, lurking beneath it all, is the idiosyncratic pencil lead/friendly ashtray minerality grit–not gritty–grit. It’s an oomph that declares I AM BORDEAUX. It is omnipresent in most reds but sometimes skips out on the whites but here it is. With graceful girth. just a hint of muscularity and bite beneath voluptuous fruit forward body. Really a tremendous wine.

Château Laribotte Sauternes 2018

The suave lushness, the underbrush of earth, the lift even under the sunshine of nectarines, tarragon, mushrooms and soil and then the honeysuckle of it all. It gives and it gives and evolves and it gives.

My sweet babies. Give Bordeaux a chance. You don’t have to delve into the crazy expensive Cru Classé wines. Unless you want to share a bottle of Château Margaux, or Leoville-Las Cases with me. I’m here for that. Or if you have a bottle of Château d’Yquem–that is on my bucket list of wines. But seriously, just get at least a Bordeaux Blanc and dm me to tell me how it was.

Be back soon. Much love.

It’s Getting Dark, Very Dark

Stick a steak knife in me, I’m done. As a goth vegetarian vampire who needs somewhere to put her anger I yearn for reasons slay something, anything, so long as it doesn’t have a heartbeat or a central nervous system. Hence these cruciferous slabs.

I made fun of the cauliflower as substitute-for-everything trend. Especially when one evening, all I wanted was a head of cauliflower to gobble whole, dipped in hot sauce as I do. And the store had no whole cauliflower, only containers of pre-pulverized cauliflower rice. Ugh. And I glanced askance at the cauliflower steak trend. Until, at a couple of dinners where I had no control (as happens to us hapless wine people) over what my meal would be, I was served cauliflower steaks. And they were FANTASTIC.

Still, why bring cauliflower steak home? I thought of it as an affair best left to work dinners and such. A dish to have out.

But then! Beyond the excuse to stab things and eat cauliflower, I had gotten a wine that looked goth AF and was named Very Dark Red, and OMG some steak knives. These Laguiole steak knives were goth as the wine, so I put some Skinny Puppy and Nine Inch Nails on, cranked the oven, murdered a cauliflower, and made a night of it, pairing the knives and wine with the dish.

PS knife pairings? Here for it.

My findings?

THE WINE: Sheid Family VDR (Very Dark Red) 2020

THE STEAK: slabs of cauliflower sprayed with olive oil, sprinkled with salt, pepper, garlic powder, paprika and a touch of coriander, roasted in the oven, based on this recipe.

The two together?? Purrrrrr. I mentioned that in addition to being a goth, I am also part cat, no? This may be the best pairing I’ve ever devised on my own in the wild.

I appreciated that the wine is made of two very big petites: Petit Verdot and Petite Sirah. It’s a toasty and roasty nose, full of grilled plums and stewed prunes, black pepper and green peppercorn. It smells thick, if that makes sense.

Rich on the palate with blackcurrant cordial, stewed black cherry and more plummy prune-y goodness, but also some herbal freshness, even a hint at menthol? Along with charred green peppers and smoke. It is QUITE tasty. The tannins are plump and juicy, which is one of my favorite ways for tannins to be. it finishes vanilla and smoke possibly like goth’s favorite pillow.

Meow.

Try it yourself. Also TikTok deemed a video of me eating my cauliflower with a steak knife as inappropriate and danger so let me say, use a fork, chopsticks or your fingers. But feel free to carve with a knife. Bring on the steak! The cauliflower steak.