A Little Place Called Napa

We went. We drank. And unfortunately, we left. But the experience was unforgettable – except for those times when we imbibed too much, of course.

Doug and I have never been huge wine drinkers. Blame youthful experiences with Mad Dog and Night Train. But some time ago, after watching Sideways, we became fascinated with the idea of visiting the California wine country. Since we like to take our kids on vacation, we decided to wait until they turned of age. They were seven and three when that movie came out, so we had a few years to wait.

Finally, the time had come! Four Seasons Travel gave us some amazing guidance and set us up on a Top Five trip. Doug, me, Alex, Cole and his sweet girlfriend Anna. The weather was perfect. The people were welcoming. The towns were quaint. The food was spectacular. The vineyards were bucolic. And the wine? Well, the wine was not Night Train to say the very least.

We all came with agendas to learn more about wine and in the process increase our sophistication index. (Alex and Anna didn't really need this, but the rest of us sure did.) Cole had other agendas though. As a matter of fact on the way to Napa, he let it slip that he couldn't leave California without eating and In-N-Out burger. Ironically, "in-n-out" was how Cole took his wine on our first full day of touring. Not that the wine wasn't perfection, but he couldn't bear to watch his sister let her portions go un-drank. It had always been an important lesson in the Kramer household, not to let anything go to waste. Especially alcohol. Luckily, Cole's unleashing of the Cabernet's on our first full day didn't slow him down the rest of the week.

A day trip to Calistoga provided quite a memorable experience for Doug and I. The kids shopped while we made appointments for a "Mudslinger" at Dr. Wilkenson's Backyard Resort and Mineral Springs. This treatment involves slipping into a large tub of warm, bubbling mud (think Shrek's jacuzzi). Completely naked. Mind you, I don't even like my husband to see me naked, so I can't deny I was a little self-conscious. But there was only the attendant, Doug and me. So, I got comfortable in a hurry. Amazingly comfortable. The mudbath was followed by a natural spring bath with special soothing salts. Our old bodies were as loose as a goose, if goose are indeed loose. After this little slice of heaven, we wrapped up in a towel and were directed to the sauna which was a staggering 300 degrees. I only managed to remain in there for about thirty seconds. Doug lasted longer. He had been training in 300 degree grain bins. Nonetheless, the spa was amazing. 

We did lots of great things. We joined a wine club, of course. We drove an hour north of Calistoga to visit a redwood forest that wasn't THE Redwood forest. But we snapped a few nice and weird photos there. We went on an e-biking tour to more vineyards. We drank delicious olive oil. We saw Barbie. We did more wine tastings. We ate In-N-Out burgers. I bought the book Sideways that I'm ashamed to admit I didn't know was a book before the movie. And on our last full day, we picnicked all afternoon in a picture-perfect winery eating charcuterie and blasting through five bottles of vino. As we chatted about the wonderful vacation, I admitted that I learned an important lesson that week. If we want the hubby to try new things, bring the girlfriend. While I can hardly bring up an idea without it being dismissed within the first five seconds, Anna's ideas were met with "Sure -– that sounds fun." (Thus the ebiking and Barbie outings.) 

I loved almost everything about Napa. And one of things that struck me most was the agricultural identity, like our community. Maybe not exactly like ours. Grapes are a little more charming than corn. Just a little. Nonetheless, the residents of wine country carries a great love for their land and what it produces. Now, that's something we Iowa folk can relate to.

Cheers! Salute! Prost!

The mythical Poseidon Winery!

Our Colorado Adventure, The Final Entry

It was our last evening in Colorado. We had one more thing we needed to check off our list: Annette. Not a person, but a place. Not possessive, as in Annette's. Just Annette – one of the top restaurants in Denver where Alex's pal and roommate works as an up and coming chef: Jacob Taggs. (Yes, that Jacob Taggs. Local celebrity. You might've read about him in the paper! See the link on his name.)

Disclaimer: I'm no food blogger. The most sophisticated culinary description I can think of right now is "delicious." But I think even Bobby Flay would agree there's not a better word to describe the food we enjoyed at Annette.

On to the actual experience.

As soon as walked in, I fell in love with the atmosphere. It was swanky and intimate without being one bit pretentious. Think of McDonald's. Then imagine its polar opposite. We settled into our table wearing the fanciest clothes we brought to Colorado. The boys sported their best American Eagle T-shirts, because nothing says fancy like a graphic tee.

our last supper

We were given dinner menus by the chummy server who already felt like a good friend. (To be fair, she was a friend of Alex's).  And after the "I'll give you a few minutes," it got quiet in a hurry. Our heads were buried as we perused our food options. Pork Tonnato? Grilled Beef Tongue and Marrow Toast? What were these things? We might've been in over our heads.

A few years ago, Doug and I decided to start sharing meals. Yep. We hit that age. We're the little, old couple who splits their ham sandwiches. We don't always do it, but when we're on the tail end of our vacation and are scraping for pennies, it's pretty much the expectation.

As we studied the menu, Doug asked if I'd like to share something. I was a bit reluctant. Jacob had recommended the "roasted whole fish" which was served with kale, salsa verde and other ingredients I didn't understand. So, I responded, "Sure. Can we have the fish?" He kept looking at me, as if I hadn't responded. Finally, he said, "So you don't want to split anything?" The sharing program only works if I don't eat fish or salad. We agreed. We'd each order separately for this meal.

The server came back, ready to answer a round of questions. Our first task was to get drinks. Seemed easy enough. But it came with its share of complexities. Doug had a house brew, which doesn't sound terribly bold unless you know that Doug is as loyal to Bud Lite as he is to his wife and the KC Royals. I had something called the Palisade Pisco. (I have no idea what it was, but it was dangerously tasty with its tart cherry essence.) My sophisticated Alex stuck with a bourbon concoction. Cole had a lemon and rosemary soda. Michael ordered an Earl Grey and dill soda. When I asked Michael if he liked tea, he said, "Oh, yeah!" Then he quickly changed his order to a Sprite.

Once the drinks were done, we discussed the appetizer. We had all agreed to be adventurous. Thus, we ordered the popcorn. But it wasn't your run-of-the-movie-theater butter-laden popcorn! It was light, fluffy, and spicy. In other words, the popcorn had character. It was gone in sixty seconds. Along with our drinks.

Fred Flinstone Portion!

Finally, after a few refills of beverage, it was time to order. We were ready. Pasta called out to Alex, so she ordered the gnocci. The boys began to order separate dishes when our server cut in. "Just so you know, many of these portions are huge. Most people share." I looked at Doug. Doug looked at me. Fish was off the table. We'd need to regroup. The boys decided to split the Maschhoff family bone-in pork chop which reminded me of the dinosaurus burger from The Flinstone's. Doug and I settled on the wood-fired half chicken. I couldn't be disappointed as I sipped on my yummy cherry drink.

The food came. After one bite of the melt-in-your-mouth poultry with its tangy glaze, I didn't have one regret about passing on the fish. Neither did Doug. We tried each other's food and dined on the side dishes – things like dandelion greens, asparagus and lentils, and fries with garlic aioli. I wonder how many times we shook our heads and said, "mmmm." Amazingly, we had just enough room for pecan pie and vanilla ice cream that made me wonder if I'd ever be satisfied with Dairy Queen again. (I found out a few days later, I would be.) Nonetheless, everything tasted like heaven. As I sit here remembering the feast, I'm a little sickened by the tater tot casserole I made earlier tonight.

Fierce Competition.

After a few hours of a delightful evening, we left bellies full and awestruck by the delicious food. (Jacob had prepared everything we ate, so we extended our highest compliments to the chef.) To walk off our gluttony, we toured the historic Stanley building. Lo behold, what did we find? A foosball table. Game on. Alex and Dad challenged Cole and Michael. As usual, Mom played spectator. It was a vicious match. Early on, the youthful Kramer/Heithoff team dominated. Then memory muscle kicked in for Doug. He and Alex slowly made a comeback to defeat the youngsters who think they're so hot with their Fort Nite and soccer skills. They were good sports, sort of. It was all in good fun.

We were ending our Colorado journey on the perfect note, having shared divine food, comaraderie, and lots of laughter. It was like vacation zen.

Then next morning we bid adieu to Alex and set off on the nine hour trip home to Iowa. The boys would get to watch a little more Star Wars. I'd finally finish 1776 with a few well-timed catnaps. And Doug would drive without the stop and go's of Denver drivers. Vacation was wonderful. We had a spectacular time. And best of all, we got some great pics for Cole's Instagram. But as soon as we saw the familiar cornfields and pulled into our driveway to be greeted by our dog and cat, I felt happy to be back. Maybe that's the best part of vacation: remembering how much you love your home.

Thanks for taking this Colorado journey with me. I hope you enjoyed.