Tour de Napa
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For the last day, the ladies were off to an afternoon of massaging, soaking and pampering at the spa while we men started our circuit with a tour of Silver Oak. The harvest had only just been officially completed a week before. Our guide walked us out into the vines where some fruit still clung to the vine. She picked, we ate. Deep purple berries, almost black, small and thick skinned for those marvelous tannins, and surprisingly sweet. Cabernet a la naturale. Another? Why thank, you. I believe I will.
We also got to see the winery at work. Fermentation had just finished and they were draining the tanks while we watched, right down to the last drop and that includes a guy with a squeegee on a pole scraping the bottom into a bin. At that stage, the stuff is completely unfiltered. It looked like grape-flavored milk. Their tour started with a tasting, a generous pour that we carried with us, sipping as we saw.
From there we attended the idyllic grounds of Rombauer, nestled amongst the changing trees and iron sculptures. This place is home to some of the best chardonnay and zinfandel in the valley. I picked up a pair of zins you can't get anywhere but there, a single vineyard bottling and a Proprietor's Select.
Having just sampled their wares at the Napa Rose in Disneyland, I had to visit Plumpjack. They have a cozy estate off the highway, very organic farm-like. I nabbed a cab for my collection of 2002 vintages. Duckhorn treated us to crackers, cheese and a trio of tastes on a porch overlooking the vineyard.
Once again, dinner was an event. Having only visited last time, I wanted to try the Wine Spectator's Greystone Castle restaurant at the Culinary Institute of America. It did not disappoint. The chef's selection appetizer plate was like a porcelain canvas of modern art. You're looking at a butternut squash bisque, a seafood dumpling with basil aioli, a shrimp pâté with jellied crust, foie gras on crostini and a mini duck tostada. My main course was a filet of sole stuffed with crab morsels and wrapped in pancetta all on a bed of white bean ragout. It stuffed my soul, I'll tell you.
Sandy got the chocolate soufflé despite our server's warning that it fed three to four people. She's a champ, that one is. I barely got to "help" at all. S'ok cuz I ordered the ginger cake. It came moist and dense like a gingersnap cookie in cake form on top a stack of stewed apple slaw and cinnamon ice cream à la mode.
In restrospect, it probably wasn't the best trip to take just days before my annual blood test. But damn, we ate like heads of state and had a helluva good time. The souvenirs didn't suck, either.
I already want to go back.
For the last day, the ladies were off to an afternoon of massaging, soaking and pampering at the spa while we men started our circuit with a tour of Silver Oak. The harvest had only just been officially completed a week before. Our guide walked us out into the vines where some fruit still clung to the vine. She picked, we ate. Deep purple berries, almost black, small and thick skinned for those marvelous tannins, and surprisingly sweet. Cabernet a la naturale. Another? Why thank, you. I believe I will.
We also got to see the winery at work. Fermentation had just finished and they were draining the tanks while we watched, right down to the last drop and that includes a guy with a squeegee on a pole scraping the bottom into a bin. At that stage, the stuff is completely unfiltered. It looked like grape-flavored milk. Their tour started with a tasting, a generous pour that we carried with us, sipping as we saw.
From there we attended the idyllic grounds of Rombauer, nestled amongst the changing trees and iron sculptures. This place is home to some of the best chardonnay and zinfandel in the valley. I picked up a pair of zins you can't get anywhere but there, a single vineyard bottling and a Proprietor's Select.
Having just sampled their wares at the Napa Rose in Disneyland, I had to visit Plumpjack. They have a cozy estate off the highway, very organic farm-like. I nabbed a cab for my collection of 2002 vintages. Duckhorn treated us to crackers, cheese and a trio of tastes on a porch overlooking the vineyard.
Once again, dinner was an event. Having only visited last time, I wanted to try the Wine Spectator's Greystone Castle restaurant at the Culinary Institute of America. It did not disappoint. The chef's selection appetizer plate was like a porcelain canvas of modern art. You're looking at a butternut squash bisque, a seafood dumpling with basil aioli, a shrimp pâté with jellied crust, foie gras on crostini and a mini duck tostada. My main course was a filet of sole stuffed with crab morsels and wrapped in pancetta all on a bed of white bean ragout. It stuffed my soul, I'll tell you.
Sandy got the chocolate soufflé despite our server's warning that it fed three to four people. She's a champ, that one is. I barely got to "help" at all. S'ok cuz I ordered the ginger cake. It came moist and dense like a gingersnap cookie in cake form on top a stack of stewed apple slaw and cinnamon ice cream à la mode.
In restrospect, it probably wasn't the best trip to take just days before my annual blood test. But damn, we ate like heads of state and had a helluva good time. The souvenirs didn't suck, either.
I already want to go back.