Wine and Art



Ladera landscape

Fall usually finds us in Europe, but this year, on account of the car and the deck expense, we economized and instead hosted a bevy of visits from distant family: Frida’s youngest nephew from New York, 22, that age when you know everything except what to do with your life; her 92-year-old mother from New Jersey, growing frailer but still in love with life; her oldest nephew and his girlfriend; my insurance executive niece from Wisconsin; and finally my recently retired sister and her less recently retired husband from Iowa. With Frieda’s oldest nephew and his live-in girlfriend, we ventured up to the Napa Valley and the city.

 

Cabernet vines

In their 30s, with political views congruent to ours, they’re as fun for us to hang out with as friends.  They live in Manhattan, near Lincoln Center, and although the nephew has visited several times before, this was the girlfriend’s first gander at northern California.  They flew in on a Tuesday night.  The nephew has a friend-of-a-friend connection at the Ladera winery in the hills east of St. Helena so Wednesday we headed up there for a VIP tour.  Our tour was scheduled for 2 PM but, because it took a bit longer to get there than anticipated, we had no time to stop for lunch, and consequently started drinking on empty stomachs.  The weather was spectacular for wandering around a vineyard and sampling the tiny Cabernet grapes; not a cloud in the sky, the hills still corduroyed with lush green vines.  They had a gravity process on 2 floors of a 19^th century building that would fit right into rural France.  We ended up in a cool adjunct of the cellar where welcome cold cuts and cheeses were served along with a Cabernet that went for $90/bottle.  Normally I’m not a big fan of Cabernet, but this stuff was smooth as silk and so naturally we all got a tad sloshed, and had to take it slowly down crowded highway 29 to our B&B in Yountville, the Oleander House. 

Yountville, though so small you can easily walk from one end to the other in less than 30 minutes, has at least 4 highly-rated restaurants: French Laundry (3 Michelin Stars), Ad Hoc, Bouchon, and Bottega.  All are owned by the famous chef Thomas Keller, except for Bottega, which is Michael Chiarello’s.  French Laundry, designated best restaurant in the world 2 years running by Restaurant Magazine, is pricey ($270/person); Ad Hoc is more affordable.  It serves a single 4-course meal on any given night for a prix fixe of around $60.  We were eager to try it but learned to our disappointment that it was closed on Wednesday nights.  The last time Frieda and I stayed overnight in Yountville we’d visited Bouchon, so we decided to try Bottega this time.  Keller’s inspiration is French cuisine, whereas Chiarello’s is Italian, and generally I prefer Italian to French, although it’s been too long since we ate at Bouchon for me to make a direct comparison.  But it was delightful sipping drinks out on the veranda in front of the fireplace at Bottega and the food was worth the wait.     

In the morning, after a distinctive breakfast at the Oleander House that included tapioca pie, and then a stop at Domaine Chandon to pick up some champagne, we took the girlfriend down to San Francisco for a quick tour.  Although the day started off sunny, it began to cloud up as we drove south through Marin and was completely overcast by the time we reached Sausalito.  After a stroll along the strand to savor the sight of the San Francisco skyline across the bay, we swung across the Golden Gate and circled around to Fort Point for a dramatic view of the southern tower looming into the drifting fog.  From there we cruised through the emerald velvet hills of the Presidio and down to the Marina, passing all the white yachts moored in the basin before heading up Fillmore to Pacific Heights, where we parked and ambled down to Roam Artisan Burgers for some lunch.  The last few times we’ve spent the night in the city we’ve stayed in Japantown, so we’re pretty familiar with the Fillmore neighborhood.  San Francisco is a spectacular city, the most beautiful in America, for my money: half New York, half Honolulu; the Paris of the Pacific.

China Beach

After lunch we dropped them at Union Square to catch a cable car, because there’s nothing quite like the vistas that open up from side to side as you roll along Hyde oblivious to the traffic.  We picked them up at Lombard.  After nosing down it, we found parking on Columbus and wandered through Little Italy to Chinatown where we ogled the oddities of the street vendors.  When we’d had our fill of that we cruised back across town to Sea Cliff, on the far side of the Presidio, the ritziest residential area in the city, and descended the stairs to China Beach to take in the fog-smeared views of the Golden Gate from outside the bay.  We’d planned on staying for dinner (we had reservations at both SPQR and Delfina, our 2 favorite restaurants in the city) but the weather had continued to deteriorate and by now rain was coming in, so we decided to cut our visit short and head out of town via the Great Highway.

The nephew with Dali

An event called Open Studios was going on that weekend in Santa Cruz and since the girlfriend was starting a jewelry business we took her around to see what the local jewelry makers were doing.  The Thursday storm had passed through by then and the sun had returned.  We started with Beth Gripenstraw, whom some friends had recommended.  Jewelry wasn’t her main thing, she’s primarily known as a ceramicist, but it was her recent watercolors that really caught our eyes.  The décor theme was Paris in the 20s and around her dining table she had set up life-sized figures of Dali, Picasso, Frida Kahlo, Gauguin, Diego Rivera, Van Gogh, Modigliani, and Monet, all seemingly about to dine off plates she had created inspired by each artist’s work, while friends of hers attired in 20s outfits cruised the scene and French cabaret music appropriate for the Lapin Agile played on an antique phonograph.  Refreshments were set up out on the front porch that overlooked downtown.  On the side was a yard enclosed with bamboo, utterly private where, last year, apparently, she’d set up a safari camp with life-sized papier-mâché animals.  A tiger remained from that event to greet visitors at the door this year. 

Aldo's

 The subsequent studios weren’t as much fun, nor was the jewelry that enticing, until we came to Ann Wasserman, who had a little workshop in the courtyard of her condo in the Seabright neighborhood.  She took the girlfriend into her workshop and gave her some pointers on her processes.  Both women were impressed by her work, so the nephew generously bought each a ring.  From there it was a short hop to Aldo’s for lunch on the deck overlooking the mouth of the yacht harbor, where we could watch the boats come and go in the dazzling sunshine. 

All in all I think it was a nice break for them from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan.