Day 1. Well, hello, lover—and by lover, I mean Napa Valley, aka my happy place, my soulmate with vineyards. It’s been a whole year since our last rendezvous, but the second I walk into my little house here, it’s like we never broke up. (Cue dramatic slow-motion reunion scene.)
This time, I shook things up and flew into Sacramento instead of San Francisco. Living on the edge! Picked up curbside by the always fabulous Colette—a Brit friend from yesteryear who makes an entrance like she’s in a Jane Austen novel, but with better shoes.
We took a quick jaunt through Old Town Sacramento to stretch our legs (and make ourselves believe we were being healthy), then headed to Downtown Napa for a bite at Fumé, a beloved local spot that always delivers. Garden Salad and White Pizza with Chicken—light, fresh, and made even better by a chilled glass of Hogwash Rosé (which sounds like an insult but tastes like a dream).
We caught up on a year’s worth of life, walked home in a wine-fueled haze of joy, and I promptly collapsed into a deep state of napalepsy—the medical condition where one falls into a blissful sleep the moment they return to Napa.
So happy to be back. Let the 30-day wine-soaked adventure begin. 🍷
Day 2. Bouchon Bakery, Hill Family, and Don G’s—aka carbs and wine. My body clock is still doing interpretive dance routines, so I was up early and headed straight for Bouchon Bakery, where the croissants are roughly the size of my head—and just as flaky before coffee. We overindulged (because we’re not quitters), then laced up our sneakers and took a “guilt-cleansing” walk around town for about an hour, pretending we were earning back at least half a croissant. (We weren’t.)
Our early afternoon was spent exactly how every afternoon should be: sipping sparkling, rosé, and white wines at Hill Family Winery in the company of good friends and no agenda. Their Rosé of Pinot Noir this year? Dangerously good. So good, in fact, a group text wine timeshare was formed on the spot with my Chicago friends. Two cases, divided three ways, and absolutely zero regrets. (Review coming soon once I stop swooning.)
Dinner? Ohhh, dinner. We headed to the always divine Bistro Don Giovanni (or as the locals and lazy typers call it, Don G’s). We started with the dreamiest burrata, served with roasted red peppers alla puttanesca on garlicky toast—basically, a love letter to carbs. Then came the Lamb Meatballs in a white bean ragu, which made us briefly consider standing up and applauding.
We paired it all with a Schramsberg Sparkling Rosé, which brightened our evening like a disco ball in a flute. Cheers to Napa for knowing how to do Tuesday nights properly.
#napavalley #napavalleywinetasting #yountville #yountvilleartofthestroll #croissantcardio #roséresponsibly
Day 3. Fried chicken for breakfast, wine for lunch, and Branzino that didn’t stare at me for dinner. We kicked things off with a slow morning of coffee and catching up before making the totally reasonable breakfast decision: Ad Hoc’s fried chicken. Once you’ve had it, you’ll understand why it’s sold by the bucket. We shared a crisp green salad (for show) and a glorious pile of golden, crispy perfection.
Colette headed back to Nevada just as Kathryn and Jaimee rolled into Yountville, bringing sunshine and fresh wine-tasting energy. We made our way to Sequoia Grove, where we happily lingered for hours on the members’ patio, sipping Cab Franc, Cab Sauv, a red blend, and a sneaky taste of Rosé of Grenache. The Cab Franc stole my heart—smooth, structured, and just a little flirty.
Next up, cocktails at North Block, where Jaimee praised their martini, aka two drinks disguised as one. Dinner was at Bottega, out by the wood fire. We shared the Shaved Brussels Sprouts Salad, then I ordered the Wood-Grilled Branzino—but not before asking them to remove the head. I draw the line at being judged by my fish. Jaimee and Kathryn shared the Spaghetti alla Sophia Loren and Braised Short Ribs, both of which were raved about in stereo.
Napa, you’ve still got it. 🍷
