The Red Guitar rose, we learned tonight, is not nearly as drinkable as the Red Guitar tempranillo blend. Oh well. The fish was good — two fillets of Louisiana red fish (often labeled drum) — that we seasoned with Hawaiian sea salt, lemon, capers, mustard, butter and garlic. Fish, Owasso new potatoes, peas and radish greens from the garden, the latter two delicious but nouvelle in portion, due to something agrinomic beyond our control.
My brother, who sells food for Sysco, brought us the fish. There are clams and mussels in the freezer. That's brotherly love.
Stephen Pingry, a Tulsa World photographer and our brother in arms, brought back the mustard from Paris: a cognac-laced Maille. Bloody brilliant.
Forget the Red Guitar rose. Do the tempranillo. Even with fish.