“Wine is sunlight held together by water.” Solid quote. Thanks, Galileo. It’s poetic yet scientific, reverent and kind of cheeky at the same time, but did you know that he dropped even more knowledge in the next sentence? It might not fit on a cross stitch but check it: “The light of a sun, with all those planets revolving around it and dependent on it, can still ripen a bunch of grapes as if it had nothing else in the universe to do.” Encapsulated in the picturesque aging brick walls of Rune, I found myself dwelling on this quote amongst the clatter of a busy dining room full of conversations, praise, clinking of glasses, and gulps. Last April, I was afforded the privilege of visiting Daylily Estates. Amongst the young vines of this infant vineyard, I met three amazing gentlemen who, together, craft wines that changed the way I think about our region’s capacity for exceptional winemaking. From my first sip, I have always felt certain these wines will root deep in our community–becoming ever vital–and go on to grow and branch far beyond the small reaches of Northeastern Indiana. I’ve long dreamt of putting Daylily into words in a way that will truly do their wines justice: but I think Galileo beat me to the punch. However, I’ve got something on Galileo–because he never got to indulge in a Rune x Daylily Estates wine pairing dinner. Somehow, without ever really knowing, I always knew we would end up here: the intersection of low-intervention, environmentally conscious local wines, and produce forward, forage-featured, fine dining cuisine. The wines of Daylily Estates and the food of Rune belong together. It just makes sense.
The first course was Welsh Rarebit on rye toast with bone marrow. As this was the only plate of the evening that wasn’t naturally gluten free, Chef Sean subbed my rye toast out for celery root. It was bomb to say the very least. My bestie, who was able to dine with me this evening, took a bite of my celery root-centric Welsh Rarebit and got a little jealous. Was it possibly even better than the regular dish? Who’s to say. All I know is, I live for moments with frico cheese. Those crispy bits are absolutely sensational. This plate was paired with Daylily Estates Brianna Pét-Nat. This is, I believe, the first Pét-Nat I tried from Daylily last year and it’s no secret that I fell in love with them at first sip. Brianna is a grape that tends to give more tropical fruit notes and this Pét-Nat captures that sort of bright pineapple fruitiness perfectly. With lively bubbles and a strong nose, this vivacious wine paired beautifully with the rarebit and really aided in lifting what could otherwise have been a heavy start to the meal. They set a high bar out of the gate.
The second plate of the evening was somehow nothing like I expected but also exceeded all expectations. Gorgeously charred sweet potato was dressed with maple and an exquisite carrot romesco. Spoiler alert: this may have been my favorite plate of the evening. The color and texture of the sweet potato was beyond reproach–the sort of perfection one only dreams about achieving. The carrot romesco, a hefty artistic schmeer along the side of the dish, was almost too complex in flavor for me to describe with words. I’m afraid I don’t know how to do it justice. It evades me. The sweetness of carrot but with the additional brightness of vinegar; a complex and rich dance for which the English language does not yet have the right words. I found myself in a sea of varying guttural, animalistic sounds that all translate to the same prelinguistic concept: yum. What a mantra. To pair, Daylily Estates Delaware Pét-Nat. If their Brianna Pét-Nat is the fun party girl who dances on the table and makes friends everywhere she goes, the Delaware Pét-Nat is the girl who holds her hair in the bathroom and makes sure she gets home safely. With subdued aromas of clementine and yellow apple, the Delaware Pét-Nat isn’t showy or boisterous but still makes its presence known with subtle elegance. The Grace Kelly of Pét-Nats. Utterly sippable, this wine served as a dashing counterpart to what, in my opinion, may have been the best plate of the evening.
Next, Chef Sean entered his beige plate era: which I’m not mad about. Beige food is usually delicious and, frankly, beautiful in its own way. A hash brown topped with chicken hearts lounging in a beige sea of beurre blanc–yum. This was my first time eating chicken heart and, honestly, I neither liked nor disliked it. I found the texture just a little tougher than I might have preferred. I struggled to get a bite of chicken heart and a bite of hash brown onto my fork at the same time. In terms of flavor, this dish was a 10/10. Honestly, if it had been anything less, I would have been bummed out–especially because this is the plate that paired with what is, perhaps, my favorite Daylily Estates wine: Catawba Pét-Nat. It’s no secret that I love Catawba. It’s also no secret that I love Pét-Nat. Pair the two together and holy guacamole, Batman! I’ve died and gone to a better place. (A place with Catawba Pét-Nat and an endless supply of delicious beige foods. I’m not coming back. Forward my mail.) With lush notes of Strawberry, Watermelon Jolly Ranchers, and a delicate fizz: this pretty pink wine is like an ideal accessory. That is to say, it goes with just about anything. It elevates whatever it’s with. But, to boot, it’s kind of stellar alone, too. Dare I say, she’s the Swiss Army Knife of Pét-Nats if Phyllis Nefler of Troop Beverly Hills had designed a Swiss Army Knife. (If you don’t get this reference, I feel sorry for you. I also feel sorry for me, because it was a really good reference and I wasted it on you.)
Our penultimate course was pork belly with risotto, and a sort of turmeric pickled celery root. This plate fights scrappily to hold the coveted spot of ‘best plate of the evening.’ Try as it might, I’m not sure it will dethrone the sweet potato dish: but damn, that pork belly was succulent. Perfectly crisp outside and utterly luscious interior: Chef Sean and his brilliant team can do no wrong in my books. This is one of those optimal examinations of salt, fat, and acid playing gorgeously together to create something greater than the sum of their parts. It only made sense to sip Daylily Estates Traminette alongside this radically delicious dish. I hate to quote myself, but I’m going to do it anyway. I once wrote, “Y’all, I don’t know what you already know, but Traminette is the state grape of Indiana. I had yet to find a Traminette that fired me up until Daylily Estates showed up and said, ‘Bet.’ It’s our fucking state grape, people. We should be producing wine that actually does it justice. We have so much to offer. We simply have to put in the effort to create something worthwhile. Daylily Estates gets it.” I said it. I meant it. I stand by it. However, I take the other thing back: I don’t hate to quote myself, it’s a pretty dope quote. This Traminette is so unlike other Traminettes I’ve tried in Indiana. My bestie and I got into a discussion of one that we tried once that tasted like Pine-Sol. The flavor is burned into my tastebuds and I don’t mean that as a compliment. All I can really say of Daylily’s Traminette is that its flavors are delicate yet complex: slightly floral, slightly fruity, a little spice, and perhaps there’s a delicate touch of pine–or maybe that’s just a bad dream. Either way, I went home from the tasting dinner, retrieved my bottle of Daylily Estates Traminette from my wine rack, chilled it down until it was time to pour myself a glass and get writing. I’m currently still sipping it. This is what Indiana is supposed to taste like.
I was nervous to try the final course of the evening–and I suspect I wasn’t the only one. Pairing Daylily Estates 2024 Nouveau with a PB&J-inspired dessert didn’t seem like an obviously smart choice to me. Clearly, this is why Chef Sean has been nominated for the James Beard award twice now and I have not been nominated for anything ever. Peanut, crème diplomat, and blackberry created what I can say is, without any doubt or hesitation, the best iteration of a PB&J I’ve ever enjoyed. Hot take, kiddos: I hate PB&J. It’s a dumb concept and I avoid it at any cost. PB&J lovers, live your best life–no tea, no shade, no pink lemonade, and also no PB&J for me specifically unless it’s a repeat of this scrumptious little treat. Though Nouveau is ultra cherry forward, heavily featuring the Maréchal Foch grape, its other dark and red berries played nicely with this dessert. Was I worried about the tannins against the sweetness of this final dish? Perhaps. Should I have been? Unequivocally, nope! The ultra creamy crème diplomat really aided in smoothing out the tannins of this young red wine. I’ve talked a big game about my favorite dishes of the evening, but this is actually the pairing that I’d have again right this very moment if Chef Sean DMed me after their final seating and told me that he had an extra plate of it left over or something. I mean, a girl can dream. But for real: I would rush there in my pajamas. I do not care how cold it is outside. I want more, more, more. And now that I’m really thinking about it, this stands true for all of the plates and pairings of this evening. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do again, happily.
By the time I left Rune, the sun had gone to bed and been fast asleep for several hours. The temperature was cut in half, the air was bitter, and the only light outside was from streetlights, passing cars, and kindred spirits whose Christmas lights are still up three weeks into the new year. Even though my body was cold and shivering right up until I finally got into my house long enough to start warming up, somehow there was still some kind of warmth deep inside me that hadn’t faded and won’t fade anytime soon. It’s a warmth and a brightness that is so very vital in the winter months. You already know what it is. Remember what Galileo said? “Wine is sunlight held together by water.” But something feels off about that quote here. It’s not complete. Not because it needs the explainerism GG tagged it with originally, but because there’s so much more sunlight in the world, some that he couldn’t have even known about back in the 15th century. Sweet potatoes are sunlight. Pork belly is sunlight. Rune’s hostess tonight was sunlight for me when she said that Troy from Daylily called me their biggest fan. Troy is sunlight, making every table feel like they’re the only people in the restaurant every time he came around to pour the next wine pairing. Chef Sean is sunlight, not just because he graciously shares his gifts with Fort Wayne—but because he was willing to make it possible for me to safely enjoy this incredible tasting dinner. I think we are a reflection of all that is around us and all that we take in: the food, the wine, the friendships. I am so grateful to have been surrounded by sunlight this evening.
Plonk & Pleasure 
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