I can get down on “wine country.” Very down. Very very down. Drunk tourists and tacky grapevine napkin holders form the foundation of my argument; grossly overpriced hotel rooms and logo-engraved wineglasses buttress the rhetoric; I could go on but will stop myself before the metaphor spins completely out of control. You, dear internets, get the idea.
And then last night. Barely into the hills above the Valley (that’s Napa, baby, Napa), giant platters of paella placed on the table, magnums of thirst-quenching yet un-buyable wine, and amiable dinner companions. And the most jaded among us (wait, I think that’s me) starts thinking: Oh. I get it. It’s nice here. And our wine-enhanced laughter rings out over the vines. [Fade.]
I’m at Taste3, a Mondavi food-wine-arts conference. I spent (and was spent) yesterday listening to fascinating people who do amazing things inspire the rest-of-us and will do more of the same today. I am vacillating between “I can do anything!!!” and “why don’t I just shoot myself now?!?” The walk back to my hotel room along a crushed granite path next to a highway after the after party made me question many, many things about myself. I am hoping it all ends on a high note before the day is through. What? Yes, yes I would very much like a cup of coffee. No, black is good. Thanks.
* Things I learned yesterday include: an otter is like a bear, but thinner and sleeker while still being extremely hairy; the government is paying to develop vitamin-D-enhanced mushrooms; some completely delightful nut-job in the heart of crack-town Oakland raised 2 (!) Duroc pigs in her backyard (!), feeding them restaurant-dumpster findings; honestly, we should really just stop already with the bottled water bullshit. Oh, and if you want to invest in urban vertical farms I know the guy you should talk to.
The Dinner Files :: “Can I have that last little bit?” | 20-Jul-08 at 8:53 am | Permalink
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