I write on my blog every Monday. Whoops.
I have been in Napa Valley for the past 4 days with Scott. I forgot to bring my computer.
I’m actually surprised Scott picked Napa Valley as a vacation spot for us. Scott isn’t a big wine drinker. I’m not really a spa person. And we’re not, oh what’s the word … classy for a place like Napa.
We really tried to fit in with the wine capital of the world.
- I had to stop Scott from throwing cash into the wine dumping bucket. He thought it was a tip jar.
- We tried the use the lingo. Scott got his swirl down. I kept splashing all over. I gave up on the swirl and just went for the liquid gold. Ah, yes…smells like…grapes. Tastes like…well, grapes. Oh, yep. There’s the alcohol. That was good. I like them all. Can I have another?
- So what do you drink in Kansas City, reds or whites? I drink reds at home and whites at restaurants. I don’t like having stained teeth in public. I got laughed at more than once.
- And what do you drink wine for? She just drinks wine after the kids are in bed. The kids stress her out. Mommy juice. And I’ll drink anything with alcohol in it.
- Swish the wine in your mouth and feel the tannins on the inside of your cheek. Uh, well. Ok, but real quick. I don’t want to stain my mouth. I have a toothbrush with me but not floss.
We had two full days of wine tasting. I didn’t taste one bad wine. Come on, it’s Napa! I actually don’t even know what a bad wine tastes like.
The evening before our flight back home, we made reservations at a restaurant that one of the wineries spoke very highly of. I was sold at the words “homemade pasta.”
We walk inside the restaurant and I immediately feel like Scott and I are a couple of kids.
Hm. Scott. Are we underdressed?
Nah, who cares.
I looked around. Men were in sweater vests, button up shirts with the arms of sweaters over their shoulders, sport coats. The women were in dresses. No one was in jeans or colored skinny jeans.
I could have swore my guidebook said this place was casual.
This is a nice t-shirt. It’s Tommy Bahama. It’s too late now. Quit worrying about it.
Yeah, I guess.
The waitress brought us water and gave us menus.
Oh, it was pasta alright. Pasta mixed with our choice of octopus, pigeon, scaups, or leg of lamb. And the only reason I know it was octopus, pigeon, scaups and leg of lamb is because I googled their Italian menu. I panicked. I found a buttered linguine with peas. The waitress came back.
So what looks good?
I’ll have the buttered linguine.
Very nice. And what would you like, sir?
Uh, what is a squab?
Oh. It’s not quite a chicken…it’s in the bird family.
Oh. Hmmm. Ok, I’ll have the spaghetti and scallops.
Excellent choice. Would you like an appetizer or salad?
No, bread will do. Thanks.
I was not about to google the salad and appetizer menus too.
Scott. This place is like for someone who is a foodie.
What is a foodie?
Oh my gosh. Someone who like tries all kinds of elegant foods. They have an appreciation for great chefs.
Yep. I’m good with a cheeseburger.
The waitress placed our food in front of us. Mine looked exactly how I imagined but the portion was the size of my 6 year old’s fist.
I took a bite. It was good. I ate slowly because I knew I could finish it in 5 quick midwest bites. Scott’s eyes got big. Under his scallops were little pink balls.
Please tell me this is not caviar.
Uh, I’m gunna say it is.
But it’s pink. I think these are those fruit things the girls put in their frozen yogurt.
No, those are like sugar. I bet that’s some sort of caviar. I thought you like stuff like that. You’re from Florida.
Scott takes a bite of one. He squints his face.
Tastes like sea water. Yep. Caviar. Try one.
I finished my meal and Scott finished most of his, minus the caviar. The waitress came back and took our plates away. She was mildly annoyed.
Well. You didn’t have drinks, an appetizer or a salad. Just the pasta. Would you like to have dessert?
Sure, I’ll look.
I was starving. I ordered chocolate cake to share. Scott and I fought over the last bite. We paid and left.
Geez, that waitress was rude.
Yeah, she seemed pretty annoyed. Maybe she was having a bad day.
Good thing I only tipped her $1.
WHAT. Scott. Did you really?
Ha. No. Do you want to go back to the hotel and watch Bottle Shock on Netflix? We have to leave the hotel by 6 am to make our flight.
Sounds good to me.
Back at the hotel, I packed up, showered and we started our movie. I was asleep by 10 pm. I woke up at 2 am. Swallowing. I was sweating.
Surely, I don’t have to throw up. I didn’t even drink. Oh no. Oh no. Noooo!!
I got up and stumbled through complete darkness. I flipped the light in the bathroom and put my head in the toilet.
Scott….(puke) I’m throwing up (puke)…help (puke) me. My hair.
I finished and crawled back to my side of the bed. I fell asleep. I woke up an hour later. Swallowing. I ran to the toilet again. My stomach had shooting pain. I couldn’t sleep it off. My alarm buzzed at 6 am. Scott shot up out of bed. I was in the fetal position, staring at nothing.
What’s wrong with you?
I’ve been puking all night and my stomach. It’s radiating pain. That waitress tried to kill me because we wore jeans. And you wore a Tommy Bahama shirt. And only ate pasta.
Oh my stomach hurts bad too. I didn’t sleep at all last night.
Scott drove us to Oakland. I had a plastic bag in my lap. Puke in my hair. Every once in awhile I would clutch the door handle and scream in pain. I was a complete mess. I could not eat anything until we arrived in Kansas City.
I recommend sticking to the wine and cheese when traveling to Napa. You can keep your jeans and t-shirts on too. The wine won’t care at all.