"cheerwine" news and stories

If you're a hungry carnivore spending any amount of time in the Carolinas, you will undoubtedly be stuffing your face with signature dishes like Carolina pulled pork or deliciously greasy fried chicken. And while you may enjoy an ice cold Carolina Pale Ale with your meal, the most cheerful way to wash it all down is with a nice glass of Carolina-born Cheerwine.

For all you Yankees who aren't privy to this sweet southern concoction, Cheerwine is a sweet and bubbly cherry soda unlike any other, with a deep burgundy color resembling a fine Pinot Noir. It's a popular soft drink in the south that is more "cheer" than "wine" (and more "cherry" than "cheer"), but we're going to pretend it's Pinot -- it looks like wine when you pour it into fancy stemware anyway.

Read on about Cheerwine and find the Fancy Fast Food "recipe" for Coq Au CheerVin after the jump...

Self-described "food-centric mountain irregular" Mark Rosenstein moved temporarily to the Great Smoky Mountains at age 19 to work at a restaurant. Thirty-eight years later, he's still there -- and it's easy to understand why.

Long before locavores and sustainable sourcing, the food here relied entirely on farm-fresh or foraged ingredients. Habits originally developed through the poverty-long endemic to the area are now cherished by ingredient-obsessed foodies like Rosenstein.

"It's difficult to farm here, it's so up and down, the weather can change and get extreme, soils are not as fertile." Thanks to the rugged, sometimes difficult terrain, he says, big farms didn't evolve; rather, land workers were cottage industry all-rounders. "At 50 acres or less, people tended to be very independent and the farm was much more diverse – a pig or two, chickens, making their own sorghum. And today, we're sort of in a revival of that," he notes.

Read our "only in North Carolina" list after the jump...

Ever whip up a dish that's so madly yummy you wanna feed it to everyone you've ever met? This is one of those.

Yup, Easter's already hopped on by, but who says that's the only ham-appropriate occasion? We'd unexpectedly received a smoked, bone-in ten-pounder as lagniappe for being loyal grocery store shoppers, and while we were old hands at prepping its hard, salty country cousin, we'd never actually baked and glazed a city ham. We've long been inspired by Aretha Franklin's ginger ale doused Queen of Soul Ham and have heard tell of a Coca-Cola ham or two, though have never had the pleasure of sampling one.

A tad loath to leave the house and brave the holiday supermarket fray, we took stock of what was on hand. Diet drinks weren't gonna cut the mustard, husband would flip if we drained his precious Pepsi stash, tonic was a tad depressing, then lo and behold -- Cheerwine! We'd hauled back cases of the distinctive cherry soda when last we hit the Tarheel State, and had been holding out for a special occasion to dip into the stash.

Sure, it wasn't the cane sugar based Retro Cheerwine (which we can't find to save our lives!), but it kept the ham miraculously moist through the initial bake and cooked down into a luscious, fruity glaze, which balanced quite well with the ham's salt, a kiss of bourbon, a quick blaze of mustard and the deep, dark tang of pomegranate molasses.

Can't find Cheerwine in your neck of the woods? Swap in a full-sugar dark cherry soda like Stewart's Black Cherry Wishniak, Boylan's Black Cherry or Jones' Cherry. Cheers!

Get the Cheerwine Ham recipe after the jump.

We can only imagine it wasn't just us having a culinarily significant weekend, what with the late-breaking Seders and Easter feasting. Sure, Monday drudgery is upon us, but howzabout dishing up your biggest cooking tales of the past few days?

We'll go first. 'Round these parts, we rustled up our very first Sweet Potato Kugel (Elijah even asked for seconds), braised and glazed an Easter ham in Cheerwine cherry soda, bourbon and pomegranate molasses, and shook up a few Ramos Gin Fizzes from all the extra eggs lying about. Somehow, it all managed to coexist quite peacefully in both our hearts and digestive systems, and while we didn't get 'round to sourcing the lambs' blood for the Icelandic Slatur we've been double-dog-dared to make, there's always next weekend.

For now, we're hungry for your tales of kitchen woes and triumps. Didja best a crust that's been troubling you, or experiment with an unfamiliar veggie? Dish 'em up in the comments below.

The good folks at Chattanooga Bakery have seen fit to re-release their previously discontinued peanut butter permutation of the traditional choco-coated cookie, and not a darned second too soon. I'm here to tell ya, this li'l fella is some seriously good -- if nigh on violently sugary -- eating. With a crunchy, fudgy cookie as the foundation, a hearty slathering of extra-sweet peanut butter in lieu of the standard marshmallow and a silky chocolate coating, the confection bears an astonishing texture and flavor resemblance to the perennial Girl Scout vended fave, Tagalongs®, a.k.a. Peanut Butter Patties®. Served frozen, per a suggestion on the box, it's simply a revelation.

The upside is that unlike the GSA confection, Moon Pies can be acquired year-round. The downer for those trapped north of the Mason-Dixon is that they're not especially easy to come across in stores. $17.99, plus $8.95 (give or take) shipping will net you 48 pies, but I'd daresay it's worth the investment at least once. Tell ya what -- if you don't like 'em, next time I see you, I'll spring for your R.C.

Buy Moon Pies online.