Day 9
Out & About
From Newton to the Valley
The most relaxing start yet as I do not have a wine adventure until the afternoon, so I head to the Oxbow market for a look around and a look at the locals of Napa (well mostly tourists) indulging in a spot of retail therapy.
The place may be small, but it’s packed with culinary safaris for you to go on at every turn, and I can imagine that if I lived here I would get to know this place a lot better, and spend a lot of time stocking up on the amazing produce that is sold.
I've got it wrong and arrived too early, so quite a few of the food places are shut and I won't be sampling doughnuts made by Johnny, a ritually prepared coffee or spicing up something wholesome. Still I'll take my time with what is there.
Ultimately I'm through so quick that I've not had a chance for my tastebuds to be tempted, but I've caught my first real sight of the locals who are here to be seen, who lay down a marker that dares you to be more stylish than they are.
At the Oxbow they sit at coffee shops in pairs talking loud, and demonstratively, and when they have drawn your attention they feel insulted that you're staring at them, and it's obvious that the days of markets organised by farmers where locals bump shoulders as they talked about yield prices seem to be long over. I love the place, but find it off-putting at the same time, like the running of the bulls, or Saturday morning television. So I get in my car and head quickly the five minute journey to parking in downtown Napa.
When I first came here the colour theme of the buildings seemed as beige as a seventies sofa, and fun was harder to find than a Gucci handbag. The most in-depth conversation I encountered was with a postal worker who worried that 'Chuck and Di' might not be getting along. It was a town that begged you to get out if you wanted life, but now as I shuffle along under this simmering heat I realise how much it has grown from that bland centre of nothing worth
The Calistoga Depot
seeing to a destination for stopping and pondering.
You're going to find it strange, but I preferred that old Napa. You walked along and because nobody would have dreamed of stopping there people assumed you were a local and left you alone. There might not have been many eateries worth a visit, but the prices were so reasonable it didn't dent your budget.
Now there are inviting shops that sell art to be shown off and not enjoyed, charming souvenirs that will line a thousand shelves back home before people will complain about how many times they have to dust them, and furniture for the discerning local who needs to stay one step ahead.
Where once, if you wanted to do a tasting you had to get in your car, a multitude of tasting rooms now look after your palate without the risk to your mental health of jousting on the roads around here.
While I enjoyed the rural feel of Napa past, I do love what I'm seeing here, although I do believe that if I lived in Napa I’d be bankrupt because of all the tempting produce that draws the eye, and the bankroll.
It's lunch, and I'm a Gotts kind of guy because The French Laundry requires the income of a third world country and a booking three months in advance, and in the old days this would have meant a trip towards St. Helena before relaxing on the back lawn with an Impossible Burger and a fine wine, but I've noticed that there's now an outlet back at the Oxbow, and in only five minutes I'm queueing twenty minutes to reacquaint my stomach with their wonderful fast food. If you've never tried it your tastebuds have never lived. Get along, take your time and thank me later as you realise that at one time McDonalds tasted this good, but that was probably when your great grandfather was a kid!
Sign for the 29
I smile as I eat in a location that is styled pure 1950’s, although the smog from the traffic, and the sweaty workmen pouring sand around saplings (I don’t know why) is a distraction I could do without.
I decide to take on the Trump Administration and order myself a Mexican beer, and the levels of paranoia that are rife in current America mean I'm constantly looking over my shoulder in case ICE cart me away with a hundred harmless grandmothers, and those threats to the nation that are small infants. America what are you doing?
Gotts Roadside Heaven
Following a quick stop back at my accommodation to change because I've got mustard stains on my shirt, and the Modelo has left an embarrassing stain on my trousers where I spilt it after looking at how much I'd paid, I'm heading up Atlas Peak Road to Jean Edwards Cellars to renew my friendship with this winery.
The last time I visited the tasting room it was located down a small alleyway just off the square in Sonoma.
I remember that the wines were tasty and welcoming, but not as big in the welcome department as the co-owner Karen who was such a wonderfully generous hostess that I felt as though I’d known her for years, and who I’ve kept in touch with ever since.
Unfortunately, on this visit Karen is tied up on the east coast (little did I know how ill she was) and hosting honours are left to Jessica Saldana, who looks after me well, answers my questions and is as welcoming as Karen. I love her observations about life in Napa, but I'm worried when she tells me that it is getting more and more expensive for the humble worker to actually live in the Napa Valley, and that most workers make a home in the American Canyon area.
There it is again, the comments about modern Napa having drifted so far away from what it was. We're not talking fifty years here. I've been coming here since 1990, and the shift towards the 'Look-at-Me Lifestylers' and the 'Vanity Wine Producers' mean that there's no room for the young, adventurous and shallow of bank balance.
It's obvious that the place is pricing itself so far above the normal consumer that it's forgetting that the luxury clients are not enough to keep things going, and that the sight of resort hotels outside Calistoga can only mean the rest of the accommodations will put their prices up and drive out the rest of us, before those sinking beneath the weigh of their money, and the easily bored (often the same thing) move on to the next travelogue thrill, leaving Napa with empty streets, and businesses uprooting to chase after them. Yes indeed, Napa (are you paying attention Sonoma) is eating itself for short term fortunes! This could all be depressing to me, but the sun is up and there's enough of the Napa I remember to make this an adventure.
Back at Jean Edwards, one tip I'm given is that you shouldn’t rush at the wines when you arrive. Just savour them, take the time to get to know the informed server and enjoy life on the terrace as the wine war stories pour easier than the Cabernets. In fact, don't rush life in the Napa Valley is a constantly pleasant motif I'm hearing.
I leave as the ‘Napa Wine Trolley’ enters the car park, depositing numerous excited folk eager to taste their way up the valley, and I can’t tell if the excitement is because this is an early stop of anticipation, or a later stop for topping up the wine levels. Whatever it is, they’re going to enjoy stepping through the Jean Edwards Tasting Room door, and here's to my next time.
My next stop is another meeting with an old friend, and to do this I must travel across the county line that divides knowing Napa and comfortable Sonoma.
When I first came to this area the two were so obviously different that Napa's glitz and glamour always rankled the down-home folk of Sonoma, even though, to me, the polish of Napa was based on nothing more than popularity.
Now crossing the county line is more in the mind, and the town of Sonoma can more than give Napa a run for its money, and the square is worth the time that a picnic will take to finish, and as the sun warms you and the greenery calms you, you take a look around and see the same price hikes that have taken hold back in Napa.
You want to buy that charming picture to remember your visit? Let's hope that your bank manager will be as charming. Fancy a stay in a hotel on the Square? At those prices you'll be paying it off for years. Want that special cookbook from a winery, or a book of photographs of vineyard cats? There are hundreds to choose from.
After a brisk walk around, and the purchase of a salt spoon that is so small it will only hold a grain at a time I head to my meeting with the calming, but dynamic figure of Gary Saperstein, the originator, promoter and torch bearer for the ‘Out in the Vineyard’ festival, and a series of events that meld the gay community to the wine community in such a successful way that Gary has received so many plaudits (a lot from me).
Once you meet Gary you're astounded at the work ethic of this lovely man, because his mind is a whirling events calendar of ideas and notions that bring people together in a celebration of life, love and wine, and as we chat I realise that he has done so much to teach the wine world that the gay sector is important.
Having been to a previous event I can testify that they are a riot of warmth and welcome, and not just for the gay community. If you can visit one, you’re going to be a happy person, enjoying life amongst a lot of other happy people.
We sit and chat in Capo Isetta, a newish downtown Sonoma tasting room, and sample some wines that lean heavily towards the owner's Italian heritage. The wines are interesting pointers to what can be achieved with the right grapes and a talented winemaker, and this takes me right back to my time at Benessere with Matt Reid.
The décor of Capo Isetta does look like an old ice-cream parlour, but it’s a wonderful mixture that works so well, and as with so much in wine country, every memory is tinged with a sadness that my time is far too short.
Gary and I talk about his start, his hopes and aspirations (all mentioned in the next interview) and while he has done so much to cement the gay community as part of the Wine Country wine scene, he still has ambition in spades and a distance to travel before he can be satisfied that he has done enough. Gary my friend, you have done more than enough.
Los Angeles may have started the visit with a tinge of meanness, a taste of what ‘Trumps’ America is starting to engender in the people, but this is now little more than a footnote, as the waves of real Americans are met, encounters are enjoyed and positive memories are toasted.
What started as a worry that the tendrils of Napa new might be choking the life out of Valley old, this notion has been a little pacified by the meetings I've had today with people who are welcoming, hospitable and hope that their patch of this wine dream will always be there for everybody.
The Beringer House