Kevin’s always been here on this site—the man behind the camera, at times; the guy proofreading before the thrilling moment when I press “Publish”; a character in the stories; and, nearly always, at the table to eat the food that I post about.  But in Napa, over dinner one night, I suggested a jointly-authored post.  To my surprise, he said yes.  (Actually he said he thought that, hundreds of posts in, I’d never ask.)  So here we are, the two of us, each with our take on our time in wine country—which we split between the Napa and Sonoma Valleys.

ON SAN FRANCISCO

Kristin:  I taught my traveling companion something, before this trip even really began, and it’s this: if you’re only spending one hour in San Francisco, then you should spend that hour eating.  Our airplane deposited us in San Francisco right around lunchtime.  Naturally, I demanded pressed sandwiches from Tartine and cones from Humphry Slocombe, which required circuitous routes, a near fender bender and a couple quibbles over directions.  It was worth it though.  Kevin taught me something too and it’s this: no matter how you leave San Francisco, no matter which direction you’re going, take the Golden Gate Bridge.  Also worth it.

Kevin:  We quickly learned San Francisco may not be the place for you if you get easily flustered.  Like flustered trying to find a parking space (still have to tip that guy for “watching” the car for us).  Like flustered standing in line at Tartine not knowing how or when to order (this was no Milk and Honey where we make fun of the people who are clueless.  Gosh, what did those hipster dufuses think of us?).  Like flustered deciding whether to eat at Tartine or take to go (my wife calmly (?) waited outside after the boisterous Saturday morning crowd proved too much).  The only thing that wasn’t flustering was deciding to eat ice cream as quickly as possible.  Oh, the drive across the Golden Gate was foggy and freezing and absolutely perfect.

Links: Tartine; Humphry Slocombe

ON RESTAURANTS

Kristin: The caliber of the restaurants sprinkled throughout the tiny towns in the Napa and Sonoma Valleys is astonishing.  This is clearly a place where people take food very seriously—whether it’s at a burger joint or at The French Laundry.  Most of our eating came somewhere in the middle of that spectrum and my hands-down favorite was Ad Hoc.  I was charmed by the one-menu-a-night concept.  Soon after making our reservation, though, the charm slid into dread: if Ad Hoc’s menu was Mushroom Fest Aught Nine on the night we were there, my dining companion would be less than thrilled.  I began obsessively checking the web site, keeping tabs on the daily menu.  Wonder of wonders, it turned out I’d randomly reserved a table on Fried Chicken Night, which happens every other Monday.   I was relieved, Kevin was delighted and we both rolled up our sleeves and feasted on the most crispy-skinned, flavorful, juicy fried chicken we’d ever tasted.

Kevin:  Yountville is the kind of place I’d love to become a regular.  Hey, I’m here guys I’d say, and they’d say, hey we know you guy, here is some fried chicken and some wine, we are friends.  Maybe one day when my playing career as center fielder for the Cubs winds down this will happen.  This is all in the future.  In the past was our trip to Ad Hoc, at the far end of Washington street in Yountville.   Kristin had been eagerly awaiting Ad Hoc for weeks, I was excited only after I learned we had miraculously landed on Fried Chicken Night.  The atmosphere was great, casual, summery, bright.  Not nearly as pretentious as Redd or Bottega.  The food was a perfect summer meal: green bean salad, fried chicken with baked mac, corn salad, and peach cobbler with ice cream.  I was so enthused by our time there I wanted to go back the next night, but unfortunately it was closed the rest of our stay.  Oh, we also saw Thomas Keller there, he didn’t say hi.  The thing is when I’m a regular he will say hi, because I’ll be there.

Links: Ad Hoc; Bottega; Redd; El Dorado Kitchen; Azzurro

ON PICNICKING

Kristin:  From Bouchon Bakery to the Oakville Grocery to the Oxbow Market to roadside farmstands—picnic provisions are plentiful in wine country.  I suggest picking up a mishmash lunch and enjoying it under the leafy canopy of a big old tree.  When this gets old (pishaw), take a “break” from the routine and stop by the Taylor’s Automatic Refresher in St. Helena and follow it up with a nap.  (Like the cheeseburger, fries and shake will leave you any choice.)

Kevin:  For some reason I pictured that picnicking in Napa would be filled with blankets spread out amongst green lush vineyards, Kristin and I sitting under a shady tree, nobody around, sipping a chilled white wine, and maybe a dog would come up and lick our feet. Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite like this: we had no blanket, you can’t trespass into random vineyards, and there are usually lots of people around.  But that’s ok, because there was wine, and there were delicious fresh cheeses and meats, all from the Oakville Grocery (though the Healdsburg location is a bit less soulful, it’s a little easier to navigate).  We enjoyed one picnic on the lovely grounds of DeLoach winery, though the winergized cougars next to us didn’t make it that quiet.  Our best picnic occurred on the balcony of our fantastic hotel room as we took a break from the heat with a bottle of rose (pronounced like the flower).

Links: Oakville Grocery; Oxbox Market; Taylor’s Automatic Refresher; Bouchon Bakery

ON TASTING

Kristin:  Wisely, we didn’t re-watch Sideways until after we returned from California (a great cure, by the way, for wine country withdrawal).  If we’d watched it before the trip, I might’ve feared that wine country would be full of Miles(es?).  In the end, we only overheard one certified wine snob and we didn’t let him bother us too much.  The only bad part is that, by the end of the trip, I kind of got used to sipping sparkling wine before noon.  We list a couple of our favorite wineries we visited below.

Kevin:  I was always taught growing up that whenever you drink nice wine you must  raise your pinky in the air just so.  It is a symbol  of grace and prestige they told me.  And it only took me 28 years to realize how right they are.  Winery after vineyard we were told about notes and oak and aging and fermenting.  And the only way I could fit in was to raise my pinky while drinking.  And yes, the wine was very good.  I really did learn a lot about wine and my favorite wineries were those that offered a more active tasting experience, like Cakebread with a walking tasting/tour or Cliff Lede where we were graciously told about the history of the vineyard during our pours.  It was an admittedly intimidating experience at first, but as Kristin and I grew more comfortable we really enjoyed the experience.  And the pre-lunch buzz that accompanied the tastings.

Links: Mumm, J Winery, Cakebread, Benziger (for the tractor tour), Cliff Lede, Paraduxx

ON BIKING

Kristin:  Terrifying.  But once you get past all the omg-I-haven’t-biked-in-10-years, does-this-helmet-make-me-look-fat?, holy-cow-where’d-the-shoulder-go, just-how-wined-up-are-these-drivers, it’s also pretty exhilarating.

Kevin:  One of the ways I used to woo my future wife in college was with my bike.  It was green and awesome, and whenever you’d see it, you’d be like there is Kevin.  I had some good tricks on my bike, no handed and one handed with a burrito in the other are some of them.  But that was 7 years ago.  So while I was super excited to hop on a two-wheeler to explore the valley I was actually a bit nervous that I wouldn’t remember how to ride a bike.  Fortunately not even I could forget, and Kristin and I had a brilliant ride.  Oh, there were some terrifying moments for us, spinning down a large highway with trucks honking and howling wasn’t exactly vacation fun, but the side streets like Yount Mill Road, where you could slowly peddle past magnificent vineyards and farms made me never want to get off.  It was absolutely one of the highlights of our time.  And I learned a new trick, one handed with one hand drinking a lovely sav blanc!

ON DRIVING

Kristin:  If you do nothing else in wine country, just drive: early in the morning before the tasting traffic settles in, just before sunset when a golden sun blankets the vineyards, after dark when a quiet falls and stars prick the sky that hangs above you.  Or, really, anytime in between too.  You’ll be treated to rows of vines that stripe the rolling countryside, majestic villas perched high up in the hills, charming rock walls and even a cow here or there.  To appreciate all of this, of course, you need a driver.  Mine was named Kevin.

Kevin:  We don’t let Kristin drive for a reason.  Ten and Two is taken very seriously, leaning over the steering wheel for maximum eye-range occurs, and usually a “don’t touch that” or two is said.  The advantage of Kristin in the passenger seat however, is two-fold, as she is an excellent navigator and an awesome Robin in our Batmobile.  We had a couple of really brilliant drives, starting with our trek over the Golden Gate and up California Highway 1.  And usually at night, as the omnipresent California sun buckled below the hillsides, we’d take our hot ride out and drive around, buzzing past vineyards and small towns and peach stands and bike riders and joggers.  One of my favorite parts of this or any trip.

Editor’s Note: For the record, I (Kristin) resisted all temptations to interject little “Editor’s Notes” throughout Kevin’s paragraphs.  But it wasn’t easy.

Also, thanks to all of you for your recommendations!  For more photos, our Flickr set is here.