I'm starting out this post by apologizing for not having any photos. In our TV cabinet are thousands of photos. Diving in proved to be an exercise in futility and opened a can of worms. One would think that in this 15 cubic foot space I have some hardcore evidence that we do, in fact, reside in the Napa Valley in the form of photos, but no. Not one... save for our wedding photos and who's to say we didn't have a destination wedding? I did try to pirate some off a friend's hot air balloon company website but that didn't work. So, sorry. You'll just have to take me at my word. Here truly begins my post...
Ah! This is my second favorite time of year here in
the Napa Valley – springtime! The hills are still lush and green, just a few
weeks ago the mustard was in full bloom, the vines are now leafing out, and my
chest allergies of fall and winter have switched to sinus allergies (I’m trying to
look on the bright side…). Soon summer will be upon us, those green hills will
turn golden (I prefer that to calling them brown) and the vineyards will be heavy with fruit.
The city of Napa is my hometown. I was born and raised here. I live about
eight blocks from my parents who still live in the house I grew up in. My
brother lives down the street from them in the house his wife grew up in. The
Captain, who also spent most of his formative years here, and I have many more
family members, four generations worth, who live in less than a three mile
radius of us. How lucky are we?
Most people we meet who are not from NorCal assume
that we own a winery, or that our family does, or that we at least work at one.
So not true. The Captain and I have both worked in the tourist industry; in
fact, that’s how we met. He was flying hot air balloons and I was doing group
sales and marketing for the same small company. However, after years of working
weekends, the schmoozing, and dealing with local ballooning politics, we both
got out – and have stayed out. I’ve since been offered jobs at boutique hotels
and spas by friends, which I have respectfully declined because I don’t want to
put in the odd hours, schmoozing, and tours and wine tastings on my own time
that really don’t interest me. Selfish? Yes, but that life style doesn't fit the needs of my family. Now, I love driving up valley
through the tiny towns of Yountville, Oakville, Rutherford, St. Helena, and
Calistoga when we’re on our way to the Sonoma Coast or The Captain’s sister’s
in Humboldt County. The scenery is breathtaking year round, it never gets boring, but the wineries and
wine aren’t what interest me.
Beside my family -- it’s the food.
Over the years traveling outside our little valley,
The Captain and I have realized how incredibly picky we are where restaurants
are concerned; it took us a while to figure out why. To be frank, even the
dives in Napa Valley have to be remarkable – even if it’s just remarkably cheap
(like one of our favorite hole in the wall Mexican food joints). When The French Laundry is ten
minutes from our front door, The Boy’s Cub Scout Den Leader is a James Beard Award winning chef and
teacher at the Culinary Institute of America’s Greystone campus in St. Helena, there are more
amazing restaurants per capita than just about anywhere in the world, we have
to lower our standards when we leave home. In a word, we’re spoiled – and,
shall we say, big-boned… Yes, let's go with that.
It doesn’t help that we both love food. We love to
cook. We love to eat. We watch the Cooking Channel and the Food Network (The
Boy loves Cupcake Wars and Chopped, which just cracks me up). We subscribe to
two culinary magazines – and devour them cover-to-cover. The Captain’s father
published a cookbook in the 70s and was no stranger to the garden either, one
sister is a personal chef and caterer, another sister managed a restaurant at
Silverado Country Club, her husband is a former restaurateur, and The Captain
himself is fearless in the kitchen. He bakes and decorates all the family
birthday cakes (or dessert in my case since I don’t like cake), he is the master
of the BBQ (charcoal, please, no gas grill for him), he bakes bread that I
could eat an entire loaf of in one sitting, and his homebrewed beer and root beer
are fantastic. Did I mention the ice cream, chicken stock, and spicy
brown-butter chocolate chip cookies? Yeah. I have to fight for kitchen time.
The Captain and his siblings, my brother’s wife, and I all seem to compete,
good naturedly, to bring our best to the table. Living where we do, we have a
lot of inspiration and lot to live up to.
Not to mention a LOT to work off… which is not an easy task when one thinks exercise is a four-letter word. But that’s another post.
Not to mention a LOT to work off… which is not an easy task when one thinks exercise is a four-letter word. But that’s another post.
More next week...
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