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.

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.

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.

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.

The Heaven and Hell of Booze Showdowns and THE Best Rum

Pineapple Sesame Daiquiri

Not that I’m dramatic, but sure, I went dramatic with the name of this entry. Last Monday I was running around from 7:30am til 5-ish on 4-minus hours of sleep and still jet-lagged from a trip to Italy, pouring booze I most certainly was not allowed to drink…that could have been hell. But honestly I had a fantastic time as a helper at the LA Spirits Awards. Although I’m a goth masochist so take my pleasure with a grain of Carolina Reaper.

For all the wine adventures I’ve had, I have never judged a contest. Not with wine, and especially not with spirits. So I jumped at the chance to get in behind the scenes. Especially for this competition. It has THE most diverse set of judges around and incorporates the ever-growing categories of lo-no spirits for those who don’t imbibe, as well as ready to drink cocktails.

I spent the day polishing glasses, pouring flight after flight (after flight), delivering said flights, cleaning up when the judges were done (mmmm emptying spit buckets), and doing it all again, all day. This does not sound exhausting, but let me tell you, I got nearly all my 10,000 steps they (who are they?) say you should get in, by the end of the day. Seriously, it was like 15+ flights ranging between 2 and 9 spirits. I DO NOT know how the judges’ palates held up.

I could barely handle my recent experience with 50-ish Barolos. This crew consisted of utter pros who held it together all day although there were a couple of flights I suspected they wouldn’t loved based on what I smelled when pouring and sure enough, the judges were laughing in the way you do after something terrible but not actually tragic has happened, like attending a one-man show in Los Angeles or anywhere.

Honestly though, this panel of judges was the most diverse, the kindest, the most thoughtful (I enjoyed listening in to them as they debated how a spirit should rank) one could hope to find. Here’s how judging worked: each table of judges had a different set of booze they’d be judging. They had to come to a consensus for each. It either got nothing, or qualified as bronze, silver, gold, or platinum. Everything that got a gold or platinum would then be tasted by ALL the judges the following day, before winners were declared.

Meanwhile, as helpers, we were not trying the spirits, so I sniffed the day away–and when I deemed a pour particularly good or bad based on nose alone, and the judges passed similar judgement, I felt quite validated. Not that I need validation from other humans to be happy except I do.

Actually, I might say working the contest was more like limbo, as my nostrils were apparently doing fine work, but my palate wasn’t getting in on the game. Heaven was regained as I was invited not just to supper with the judges, but also sample the Ten to One rum, whose white rum received a Gold and amber rum received a silver medal in the 2021 competition.

The dinner paired three cocktails featuring the rums, and we got samplers of them to boot and whooo-eeee lemme tell you, Ten to One makes complex and aromatic rums. They paired well with the dishes but also with the judges I was sitting with. I learned about everything from roller derby to what it takes to move cats from Argentina to Cambodia that night. Not your average cocktail chat.

Said dinner was held at Caravan Swim Club, the poolside restaurant at the Playa del Rey-ish Hotel June. The welcome cocktail (and the leading picture for this write-up) was a Pineapple Sesame Daiquiri, featuring the Ten to One white rum, pineapple, juice, lime juices and–this was the level-up move–each was dotted with a few drops of sesame oil. The drink did well by what I honestly think is the best chopped salad I’ve ever had. Normally I eat chopped salad and wish I had all the elements separately and in bigger pieces. But this one provided forkful after cartable forkful of satisfaction. I’m not exaggerating. I want this salad again. The Charred Elote salad featured chopped lettuce, tomato, onion, cucumber, cilantro, cotija, and chipotle dressing. It was savory and slightly spicy so was both complimented and the heat mitigated but the savory and sweet nature of the cocktail.

I missed out on the second course of Crudo, seeing as I’m vegetarian, but everyone else cleared their plates.

The next cocktail was a Blood Orange Daisy using (again) the Ten to One white rum, as well as martini fiero (an orange vermouth), habanero agave, and lime. I loved this. I also love blood oranges and spiciness–although I honestly think (and this is rare for me as I love the heat) the spiciness could have been dialed down just the teensiest to let the other flavors show through more. But as a cocktail making enthusiast it is rare that I taste a drink and have no notes. I promise you I’ll find a way to make any drink just a shade better. Although that Pineapple Sesame Daiquiri would give me a run for my money.

My vegetarian main paired with the Daisy was a Spicy Cauliflower Steak, featuring peppers, smoked paprika, cashew, cilantro, and cream sauce. I’m not sure, but seeing as I didn’t notice any actual cashews and as I think they were trying to make this vegan–is it possible the cream sauce was made of cashews? At any rate as I mentioned I have a love affair with spicy. And creamy. And cauliflower. And the whole thing was topped with a refreshing mix of micro greens that played nicely with the spicy cauliflowernsteak. I was very happy.

The dessert drink was a Rum Old-Fashioned, paired with an Horchata Panna Cotta which sadly, I had to forgo as panna cotta has gelatin in it. But I had zero problems finding a taker who wanted to eat mine seeing as a) they were petite and b) apparently fantabulous. Old-Fashioned ingredients were not listed but given the color, as well as brown-sugar notes, I’m thinking it was made with Ten to One amber rum. It was a delightful way to wind down the dinner, with the luxardo cherry garnish serving as my dessert.

The winners winners cauliflower steak dinners have not been announced yet, so stay tuned. I may need to do a round-up tasting of the best. I’m rooting for Ten to One for another medal or so…and that’s not just the rum talking.

Poe Wine

The wine: Lustau “Los Arcos” Amontillado.

In all honesty I blame my goth predilection on someone giving me the complete works of Edgar Allen Poe when I was seven.

I was into big books. And someone saw fit to fill my mind with telltale hearts and ravens and (personal fave) noir kittens.

Also there is a story called the Cask of Amontillado. It follows the Poe protocol of death and maybe walling in alive people and…you know what?

If someone told me I could not “tell Amontillado from Sherry”, much like the protagonist-ish (?), I’d be angry.

Seeing as AMONTILLADO IS SHERRY. Wall them in!

Just kidding. But as a woman in wine, if I had a walled-in corpse for every man who tried to tell me they knew better about wine than I do…I’d…well I’d either have a lot of secrets or be on the fast track to either death row or/and being institutionalized.

Fortunately I realize that walling in one dude won’t fix systemic toxic masculinity.

Shall we talk about this wine? I’m not even gonna try to explain soleras right now but know that Amontillado is sherry that starts as something aged under a veil of “flor”, a type of yeast that adds all sort of brioche and bruised apple notes THEN gets some oxidative aging happens making it nutty and caramelly EXCEPT! Except it is dry. No residual sugar.

Amontillado is probably my favorite Sherry unless we think of Palo Cortado which is sorta the same but…let’s not get into that. It’s controversial and I don’t want to inspire too many Poe thoughts.

This amontillado is slightly higher on the nuts and brown sugar but there is raw baguette in there.

Crud I thought I didn’t like sherry but…I love some and this is one of the some.

Not just because it’s goth as fuck.

Because it’s goth af and damned delicious.

Good night my goth darlings. May the black lipstick force be with you.

football wine, baseball post

I am a Cardinals baseball girl. But I have yet to stumble on wine made by a Cardinal.

In St. Louis they inject baseball into your veins on birth. For some it is a delayed reaction love. I grew up going to games, but they terrified me because a) it was a lot of screaming adults and b) when you are little you are short and close to the ground and the ground smells like beer and I do not like beer.

Then, a few months before leaving for Los Angeles I was in a play with a bunch of baseball fans. It was 2006, and we made it to the World Series. The cast’s enthusiasm caught me. Last game of the series we did that play (“The Birthday Party” by Harold Pinter) faster than ever before so we could run backstage to our tiny television and see what was happening. We took our bows and RAN off the stage in time to see the final pitch. Oh what a night! Glorious.

Fantasy baseball will be my next step.

But can sports people make wines? I could not help but wanna try a sport person’s vino. I was recently given Intercept Pinot Noir and Chardonnay. It is made by Charles Woodson–his love of wine started while playing for the Raiders and living in Napa. I decided to give football some damn respect.

Also really liked the fact that while Woodson stilled played he had/has (?) a label called TwentyFour. But the NFL would not allow players to endorse alcoholic bevs. And yet he made wine anyway. Now that he’s not a player he can be totally public about his vinous life.

This is my review. Take from it what you will.

The labels:

Supes into them. I’m a cat person and there is a lion leaping. I am nothing if not a leaping lion fan. you know the leaping lords of the 12 Days of Christmas? Fuck that, I want leaping lions.

Then I smelled and tasted. It smells like California Pinot Noir. It has a bite and a spicy burn and is cherries for days. It looks garnet-ish own the glass. It tastes like cherry preserves but not sweet. It has little tannins and much alcohol. Totally a pleasure. Sometimes a girl needs a ripe Cali Pinot Noir like…I dunno I guess sometimes a girl just needs a ripe Cali Pinot.

Now for the Chard. I am always concerned about California Chardonnay. Will it be an oak bomb? Will there be so much butter I need a piece of bread?*

*trick question I always need bread

But no! It really is quite pleasant. Rather boozy, yes. But that’s okay. The body is full but merely hints at butter and oak and has quite a bit of…quince? Let’s call it quince.

What do you know–football (American football that is) players make tasty vino.

Now I’m off to check my baseball app. Please let me know if there are baseball wines I need.

 

Rosé indoors al fresco

Skip to the end for this entry’s challenge.

Mouton gets the award for lushest swag of the year:

The hearty canvas of the bag they sent me with the accompanying insulated sleeve and picnic throw scream “I am solid! But also pink! So!”

And so.

So I had myself a little indoor picnic because I like to celebrate small goth victories like the clouds of Los Angeles’ June gloom.

Not pictured: pistachio cake with pistachio frosting, lemon curd, and milk crumb topping.

Oh wait here’s a picture. It’s ugly though.

There’s a reason this blog is called Scrumptious GRUEL:

I could go on about the marvelous things I make from the Momofuko Milk Bar cookbook but let’s get to the rosé.

Here’s what you’ll feel in a bottle of Mouton Cadet Rosé:

Raspberries and stones. running streams. Strong love. An embrace with vigor. Which is my favorite type of embrace.

Vigorous.

Damn that’s a great word.

More stony up front perhaps a masquerade of the masculinity assumed with Bordeaux yet label and swag is pink but masculine pink and I do maintain real men wear pink.

And so do real goths.

Humble request for someone to make a Venn diagram of goth, toxic masculinity, pink, mental health, and…last one is your call.

Go!