November 30, 2006
Tom's birthday: not only was it a milestone, but a gorgeous fall-to-winter day (bonus!). What better way to celebrate in Napa than with endless glasses of smoky wine?
After enjoying a lovely breakfast (complete with vegetarian sausage, crystal stemware and candlelight), we mapped out our highly anticipated wine-swilling route. Our innkeeper was a gem: she gave us an illustrated map, the places with the best reds circled in -- what else? -- red. Hangovers; what hangovers? It was time to answer the burning question that I asked as we swung open the door to our cabernet-colored room: "Where's the wine?"
It was no longer bone-chilling cold, which made for the perfect mild backdrop to our crazy, grape-tastic adventure. Driving through the sleepy, winding roads, we wondered how many wineries we'd visit. Surely, wine aficionados like us could never be satisfied. Or could we?
First stop: Van der Heyden, a nondescript family operation at the end of a long dirt road. And when I say nondescript, I mean it! The tasting room was a dilapidated white shack; the host, a kid perhaps not of legal drinking age. The wine? Outstanding (especially the slightly sweet white table blend, made with the grape peels intact), so we giddily grabbed a few bottles, already on the road to drunkenness.
Next stop: a completely uninteresting winery, the name of which escapes me, and rightfully so. Despite oversized glasses, a lovely tasting room and a hostess who was eager to please, the wine was simply not up to par. We had free tasting passes from the innkeeper, so it was not much of a loss. In true Andy Santiago style, we scoffed and moved on.
Third stop: Ballentine, home of a decidedly reptilian host with sharp light-colored eyes, and an equally sharp selection of wines. Tom fell in love with one of the romantic, peppery Zins, which was a happy surprise. Pleasantly wasted, we grabbed a few more bottles and headed to our next (and last) stop, Sterling.
Lynn, the innkeeper at La Belle Epoque, had many great things to say about this place, and let me tell you, it did not disappoint. Tom and I felt as though we were in an alcoholic's fantasy: an amusement park filled with nothing but wine! We rode a tram to the top of the hill, where the entire valley spread out before us like a glorious blanket of green (indeed, like a drunken dream). The tasting room was enormous, with couches, a fireplace, private tables, a cheery Christmas tree, and that spectacular view! Though I could no longer feel my mouth, I do remember that the wines were good. After purchasing a few bottles (and some not-so-great cabernet flavored chocolate truffles), we took our tipsy selves to a late pizzeria lunch somewhere in St Helena. The perfect end to a perfect afternoon.
But wait - could it really have happened? Could we really have had our fill of wine? Despite many other red-circled places we had yet to visit on our map, we were completely and totally spent. We blazed through the Silverado Trail, eager to get back "home." And as we entered our Victorian wine glass once more, we could barely stomach the thought of drinking more. But what's Napa without wine? Indeed, it would be like asking, who am I without Tom?
Alas, we couldn't stay away for long, and before heading to a swanky dinner in front of a roaring fire, we found ourselves in a tasting room yet again, this time the B&B's very own.
Just another lush and lazy Napa day...
-Ani
