The Road Less Traveled

On a Saturday in June, two of my friends from college who now live in Kirkland took me winetasting in nearby Woodinville. I had actually been to the area many years ago–the famous Chateau Ste. Michelle winery is there as well as my preferred winery, Columbia Winery.

Whether Woodinville has grown or just me I am not sure, but there are now over 20 wineries now in the area. I know because my friend Aaron gave me a copy of their “Passport” to Woodinville Wine Country, which included information on the different wineries. They had loved the Passport tour they did in April (the wineries stamped the pages), and had decided I would enjoy it too.

Our first stop was Silver Lake Winery, the largest of the small wineries. They actually pour for three labels there–Silver Lake, Glen Fiona, and Hoodsport. 

We started at the Glen Fiona bar–Suzanne and Aaron had already had some of the Glen Fiona and bought one bottle without even tasting it.  The pourer was an older gentleman who shared his expertise about the wines and about winetasting in general. When I went to rinse out my glass with water between tastings, he said, “You really wanna do that”? He then explained how the water could actually ruin the flavor of the next wine. He also told me to hold the wine on the tongue for up to 60 seconds to release more flavor.

The Glen Fiona wines were all excellent, even the one that tasted like orange  blossoms. The Silver Lake wines were not as impressive. The Hoodsport wines were pretty good considering they were half the price of the other wines. But I was on a budget and I figured as long as I can get Washington State wine at Trader Joe’s for four bucks, why should pay $10 or $20 for it?

One would think that as the wineries got smaller, my resolve not to buy would have strengthened. I mean, most of the wine tasting rooms were suites in a large industrial center. How is that conducive to wine tasting? But maybe the steady flow of wine (even with some dumping) had loosened my brain, or the wineries had done a good job of creating a genteel atmosphere inside.  Because at the fourth winery, Red Sky, the wallet opened up. Maybe it was the original artwork on the walls, or the lush red paint on the walls behind the artwork, or the name Red Sky that evokes some exotic Native American place for me.  Or maybe it was just good wine. Even Aaron got into a buying frenzy, buying two original artworks from a worker’s young daughter for 25 cents each. I bought a 2002 Merlot.

At the next stop, Edmonds Winery, I took one sip and charged again–a 2003 Cabernet. We then took a break at the nearby farmer’s market to get some popcorn to try to absorb all of that wine. Then we hit the last two wineries on our tour, De Voigne Cellars and Mark Ryan Cellars.

De Voigne Cellars actually had two different labels, one from each brother in the family.  Although it was more expensive, I found myself partial to the De Voigne 2004 Sangiovese. But I couldn’t bring myself to spend $25 on wine. He had little bottles but said they weren’t for sale (only marketing). As we were walking away though, I kept thinking about how nice the winemaker was as he was talking to us, and I felt this need to buy from him. So I went back and bought it.  Then Suzanne said you can get a bottle signed by the winemaker. So I went back yet a third time and asked him to sign it, which he did although I’m sure at that point he thought I was some nutty lush.

We finished off the day at Mark Ryan, a stark and minimalist place that nonetheless had great wine.  I couldn’t bring myself to buy any more, but Suzanne bought their fifth bottle of the day there.

I still get a little woozy thinking about all the wine I tried, but three weeks later I opened the Edmonds Cabernet and it was truly fantastic. 

A friend of mine from my days in Ukraine who now lives in Carlsbad was kind enough to invite me to her home for the weekend.

My plan was to stop on the way in Temecula to get money (there’s a branch of my bank there) and to stop at In-n-Out, the best fast food hamburger in the country.  (If you think I’m exaggerating, talk to someone who grew up in California and then moved back East—9 times out of 10 they’ll tell you the only thing they miss is In-n- Out Burger.)

Anyway, as usual the best laid plans of mice and myself often go awry.  The merge of the 215 and 15 South brought the freeway speed from 85 to 0 in 10 seconds.  Thank God my ABS (Angel Braking System) was working.  After about 10 minutes of waiting in the exit lane for Winchester Road in Temecula and realizing I’d only gone half a mile while cars in the far lanes were going 40-50 miles an hour, I decided even In-n-Out wasn’t worth waiting that long for.  I thought I’d get off at the next exit (Rancho California), but alas, that too was a long line of cars that weren’t moving too quickly. 

It wasn’t until after I passed Rancho California that I realized why these two exits were so popular:  they were the last signs of civilization on I-15 for a good 15-20 miles.  Not that I minded the scenery—the rolling hills were green from recent rains and even the valleys shone brightly in the sunlight.  By the time I got to 78 West, though, I was ready to eat pretty much anything.  I had a problem finding a place to stop: each time I got close to an exit it seemed there was no place to eat, so I’d pass the exit.  Then as I was passing the exit I would see places to eat. 

This went on for several miles until I finally saw Panera Bread just before I got off at Vista Village Drive in Vista. Here’s where things got even odder:  I couldn’t find a place to park in the shopping center.  It was adjacent to the movie theater, and I’m guessing that many people were out seeing movies on a rainy Saturday afternoon. 

The funny thing about my life is that just when I think everything is going wrong for me, I realize that all of those wrong turns were just leading me to a new and unique right.  As I came out of the shopping center, I turned left and ended up driving into the heart of Vista Village (actually Main Street, parallel to Vista Village Dr. and accessible from Santa Fe Avenue).  It looked like a group of shops that were built in the 1950s. It was unexpectedly scenic. 

There was an Italian deli that looked okay, so I stopped and parked at the first space up the street I could find. I stopped at a bank for money, and then I walked into Piancone Bakery and Deli.  Looking at the jars of oil, bags of pasta, rows of Old World Bread, and sheets of cakes on the shelves, I knew I was in a real Italian deli.  For $7.99 I had a large sub sandwich on a ciabatta, a small cucumber salad, and Italian mineral water.  I don’t think I’ve had deli meat that good since I bought prosciutto at the airport in Rome.  The olive spread on the bread was a nice touch too, and I don’t usually like olives.  I didn’t have room for a cannoli (an Italian rolled dessert filled with a special sweet ricotta cheese concoction), but I enjoyed a large sugar cookie with green sprinkles for another 65 cents.  I was a little bit jealous of the locals who could come in there regularly for birthday cakes and catered meals.

15 minutes later I arrived in Carlsbad.  The rest of the day my friend and I hung out at her house drinking (tea and later wine), watching movies, eating homemade Indian food, and chatting. 
Sunday we did two things of note to travelers to Carlsbad. For lunch, we went to Lotus (on Pio Pico near Carlsbad Village Drive), a Thai restaurant voted the best Thai restaurant in Carlsbad. The pad thai was pretty good, but I really liked the fact that on Sunday I was able to get a good lunch special–shrimp pad thai, two fried won-ton (similar to small samosas), two tiny spring rolls, a small salad, and tom yum gam soup for $8.95.   After lunch, we drove down Carlsbad Village Drive through Carlsbad Village. We drove past Mariah’s Restaurant where we’d gone once before for brunch; they have over 300 varieties of omlettes. We drove to Ocean Street and then turned left to find parking. Once we did, we took a nice walk along the beach, talking about the costs of home prices and the possible eating disorders of the skinny runners on the walking path.

The capper of the day was on the drive back from the beach. While stopped at a red light, a man motioned to us to roll down our window.  My friend did and he shouted out, “I saw the In-n-Out Burger bumper sticker on your car. Do you know where I can find one around here?”
 

This was a great weekend. I left work at 2:00 p.m., stopped in my hometown for cheap gas and Auto Club maps, and head north on I-5.  I was lucky to be heading north; the traffic on I-5 South was ... [Continue reading this entry]