4 days ago
Monday, February 21, 2005
…And decided I should chance it on the salad with BBQed something or other (I cannot say it, it makes me feel ill). Total price of said dish: exactly $9 (it was one of their splurges).
When it was ready, the astute cashier shouted: Crystal Inn order ready, charge it to room #406! Great. Let every trucker know that a helpless older damsel is staying by herself at the Crystal Inn, room 406. Robbery about to happen.
But then I ask again – I really cannot borrow a corkscrew for even a minute?
Answer: no.
A grizzly-looking dude comes up and says: I got one in my trailer. You can have it.
QUESTION FOR THE AUDIENCE: Would you follow a stranger to his trailer just because he offered you a corkscrew?
ANSWER: Of course not!
Still, this was safe. He explained about having just come from California with his wife and how they had to purchase a corkscrew because their friends gave them wine… and besides, he was parked right outside the store.
And so that is how I find myself typing away in Aurora, Colorado, with a disgusting dinner, locked in a Styrofoam box (unmentionable content inside), sipping away at a wonderful Sauvignon Blanc from a half-bottle picked out by Mary, opened by the fanciest, plushest Kitchen Aid corkscrew.
When it was ready, the astute cashier shouted: Crystal Inn order ready, charge it to room #406! Great. Let every trucker know that a helpless older damsel is staying by herself at the Crystal Inn, room 406. Robbery about to happen.
But then I ask again – I really cannot borrow a corkscrew for even a minute?
Answer: no.
A grizzly-looking dude comes up and says: I got one in my trailer. You can have it.
QUESTION FOR THE AUDIENCE: Would you follow a stranger to his trailer just because he offered you a corkscrew?
ANSWER: Of course not!
Still, this was safe. He explained about having just come from California with his wife and how they had to purchase a corkscrew because their friends gave them wine… and besides, he was parked right outside the store.
And so that is how I find myself typing away in Aurora, Colorado, with a disgusting dinner, locked in a Styrofoam box (unmentionable content inside), sipping away at a wonderful Sauvignon Blanc from a half-bottle picked out by Mary, opened by the fanciest, plushest Kitchen Aid corkscrew.
In California: Sonoma, Napa – it’s all a blur of hills and vines, misty skies and mustard greens
It’s not like it once was, they told me. The big S is blasted out of Sebastiani and it’s all about quality now. The producers care. The vines are getting older, the yield is smaller and the wines are magnificent.
Yeah, sure. Show me.
And they did. Winding through the Silverado Trail I thought maybe we were transported. In California’s brief green season (it lasts two months), the countryside looks vibrant and refreshed.
They also corrected me about Sideways (as did a number of readers who, unlike me, actually saw the film): that movie is about south of SF, not north, where Napa and Sonoma rule.
It helped to see the Wine Country in brooding weather, almost as if it wanted to mock the ancient stereotypes. I compare the wines of Sebastiani with those of the smaller Robert Sinskey Winery. I’m impressed.
A visit to Copia in Napa is a must. Copia is a nonprofit, established to further our understanding of foods and wines. Julia Child was a primary instigator here and we ate at Julia’s Kitchen, then walked through a garden filled with already burgeoning veggies and herbs. In an exhibit on “What the world eats” we could compare the eating habits of some two dozen countries around the world. Predictably, the French spend the most on food, followed by Japan and then the United States. Oh, and here’s another LKF (little known fact): did you know that 92% of all wine is consumed within 2 hours of its purchase?
We ended the day at St Helena, eating the hours away at a Napa cuisine classic, Tra Vigne. I was indulged. Mary and Tom treated me to the in-season Dungeness crab. You want to see pigishness? Imagine me digging into the monstrous plate of food shown at the bottom of the photo run.
Tomorrow (make that today, I’m posting Monday morning) I return to Madison. I have tons on my plate there and none is as lip-smackin’ as the crab dish. But the tight grip of people who care and who keep me steady is always there. I appreciate it so much, at every turn.
Yeah, sure. Show me.
And they did. Winding through the Silverado Trail I thought maybe we were transported. In California’s brief green season (it lasts two months), the countryside looks vibrant and refreshed.
They also corrected me about Sideways (as did a number of readers who, unlike me, actually saw the film): that movie is about south of SF, not north, where Napa and Sonoma rule.
It helped to see the Wine Country in brooding weather, almost as if it wanted to mock the ancient stereotypes. I compare the wines of Sebastiani with those of the smaller Robert Sinskey Winery. I’m impressed.
A visit to Copia in Napa is a must. Copia is a nonprofit, established to further our understanding of foods and wines. Julia Child was a primary instigator here and we ate at Julia’s Kitchen, then walked through a garden filled with already burgeoning veggies and herbs. In an exhibit on “What the world eats” we could compare the eating habits of some two dozen countries around the world. Predictably, the French spend the most on food, followed by Japan and then the United States. Oh, and here’s another LKF (little known fact): did you know that 92% of all wine is consumed within 2 hours of its purchase?
We ended the day at St Helena, eating the hours away at a Napa cuisine classic, Tra Vigne. I was indulged. Mary and Tom treated me to the in-season Dungeness crab. You want to see pigishness? Imagine me digging into the monstrous plate of food shown at the bottom of the photo run.
Tomorrow (make that today, I’m posting Monday morning) I return to Madison. I have tons on my plate there and none is as lip-smackin’ as the crab dish. But the tight grip of people who care and who keep me steady is always there. I appreciate it so much, at every turn.
Sunday, February 20, 2005
In California: heading sideways into the vineyards
My hosts have set aside this day for a Napa romp.
I have been asked by numerous folks here if I have seen Sideways. Each time the movie comes up everyone trips over the other to recall a scene that was exactly right in flavor and tone. It's like talking to Americans spending time in Japan and hitting on moments from Lost in Translation. Sideways is the northern Californian's little tale about heading into the wine country.
Of course, I missed the movie. That was the day I was to see it with my Madison pals and they decided to have a head-on car crash instead. And I haven't been to Napa since the ASA meetings of some fifteen years ago, when I dragged my little ones to check out the landscape north of San Francisco. Perhaps they didn't get that much out of it, but I did. It was my first visit to wineries and I suppose my love of exploring vineyards was born then.
Mary (my friend here in California) and I have traveled together recently on a week-end escape to the Burgundian countryside. She and I are compatible when we are on the road: we pack in as much as humanly possible and we eat tons. Today promises to be in line with our usual style. But a warning: unless they have a Starbucks (with a WiFi connection) in the middle of Napa, I may have to wait with a post until tomorrow morning.
The weather? I guess it could be worse.
I have been asked by numerous folks here if I have seen Sideways. Each time the movie comes up everyone trips over the other to recall a scene that was exactly right in flavor and tone. It's like talking to Americans spending time in Japan and hitting on moments from Lost in Translation. Sideways is the northern Californian's little tale about heading into the wine country.
Of course, I missed the movie. That was the day I was to see it with my Madison pals and they decided to have a head-on car crash instead. And I haven't been to Napa since the ASA meetings of some fifteen years ago, when I dragged my little ones to check out the landscape north of San Francisco. Perhaps they didn't get that much out of it, but I did. It was my first visit to wineries and I suppose my love of exploring vineyards was born then.
Mary (my friend here in California) and I have traveled together recently on a week-end escape to the Burgundian countryside. She and I are compatible when we are on the road: we pack in as much as humanly possible and we eat tons. Today promises to be in line with our usual style. But a warning: unless they have a Starbucks (with a WiFi connection) in the middle of Napa, I may have to wait with a post until tomorrow morning.
The weather? I guess it could be worse.
Saturday, February 19, 2005
In California: not too sunny today
It’s not that you need good weather for the SF Ferry Building Saturday morning market. It would be interesting to stay dry, but not necessary. What’s SF without a few dripping clouds over the Bay, over the streets, over the tables where you could eat crab cakes and scrambled eggs off the Embarcadero…
And you don’t need good weather for the Grace Cathedral, or lunch at the Big 4 or a nibble here and there on Nob Hill. Not needed at all. Still, it would have been interesting to stay a little dry. I mean, my group of SF-ers didn’t seem to mind, but they did tell me that maybe next time I could keep my humid, wet weather in my notoriously harsh-climate home state. I reminded them that humid damp weather is not what we are known for in Wisconsin in Feburary.
And you don’t need good weather for the Grace Cathedral, or lunch at the Big 4 or a nibble here and there on Nob Hill. Not needed at all. Still, it would have been interesting to stay a little dry. I mean, my group of SF-ers didn’t seem to mind, but they did tell me that maybe next time I could keep my humid, wet weather in my notoriously harsh-climate home state. I reminded them that humid damp weather is not what we are known for in Wisconsin in Feburary.
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