Student Finishing Mussels with Salsa Verde - Photo by Kim Palacios

I have complained, in earlier writings, of certain wine country traps; of time and effort willingly spent vacationing oneself to exhaustion.  The 9PM stupor that follows decadent dinners compounds the 5PM wine stupor from crashing one tasting room after another.  Of late, I have sought wine country adventures that surpass the ordinary, that possess classic appeal and that won’t leave me catatonic.  When the CIA at Greystone (of which I am a longtime fan) invited me to sample its “Flavors of Wine Country” Culinary Boot Camp program for food enthusiasts, I accepted forthwith!

My Cooking Ability:  I grew up cooking alongside adept parents, but had never undergone any formal training.  In my past life, I spent six years serving in or managing medium- to high-end restaurants where I sometimes helped with prepping and plating.  My culinary literacy is higher than that of most, since I write about food and wine.  I arrived with a solid knowledge of the rhythm of the professional kitchen, and I consider myself an intermediate.

The Itinerary: Though Boot Camp program duration can vary, mine lasted five 8-hour days.  Students were outfitted in white chef coats and hound’s-tooth pants and wore neckerchiefs and sturdy black shoes.  We met for breakfast at 6:30AM in the teaching kitchens, where full-time students were already busy at work.   Mornings were spent cooking regionally-inspired fare, which we plated and served for our lunch.  For two hours each afternoon, we sat for guided lessons that included wine tastings, skills demonstrations, and guest speakers such as sake sommelier Stuart Morris of Go Fish restaurant and lamb farmer Don Watson of Wooly Weeders.  Included in the course was a group dinner at the Wine Spectator Restaurant.  And, the class took two field trips—an early morning jaunt to the local farmer’s market and an afternoon tour of the CIA’s student-run gardens.

Corn Garnished with Flowers from CIA Garden - Photo by Kim Palacios

The Scene: Thirteen students from seven states came either alone, with a spouse, or with friends.  Experience ranged from cook-at-home chefs, to serious enthusiasts, to pros.  On the more experienced end were an Executive Chef and a Pastry Chef from Palm Springs, and a Florida businessman who spends free time mopping and roasting as part of an award-winning barbecue team.  Our Chef Instructor was the well-known Victor Scargle, whose impressive pedigree includes Northern California notables such as Aqua, Jardiniere, Julia’s Kitchen and Go Fish, as well as New York City classics such as TriBeCa Grill, Aureole, and the since-closed Patria.

The Highlights: Superb quality and variety of fresh foods; the availability of uncommon ingredients and specialty tools made for cooking I would not have attempted at home.  The combined clout of Chef Victor and the CIA gave us access to insider experiences and excellent guest speakers.  I graduated knowing how to debeard mussels, make waffle slices with a French mandolin, prepare an uncut lamb rack, and cure a salmon for smoking.  I also learned more effective techniques for basics such as knife-sharpening, pepper-roasting, and tomato-blanching, as well as tricks such as soaking raw onions to diminish their bite.  The course binder included everything we worked with, including over fifty recipes, as well as additional lessons on culinary fundamentals for home review.  The course was structured to let out mid-afternoon, which left ample time to explore wine country each evening.

The Drawbacks: Since participant skill level varied widely, beginners were sometimes overwhelmed or relegated to mundane tasks while advanced students sometimes did more mentoring of beginners than learning new skills.  Also, though the “Flavors of Wine Country” theme remained faithful to foods available in the local region, students from produce-impaired states voiced concerns that they may not be able to secure some ingredients in their local markets.

The Verdict: A worthy and fun culinary vacation for anyone, especially those with basic or intermediate cooking skills, and those looking for a great getaway to do with a partner or friend.  More sophisticated chefs may prefer the institute’s Sophisticated Palate programs, which cater to students who are very comfortable in the kitchen and ready to tackle advanced skills such as live fire cooking and the pairing of food and wine.

Sake Sommelier Stuart Morris - Photo by Kim Palacios

Advice: Bring a buddy with you to wine country, even if they don’t take the class.  Afternoon and evening explorations of the region will be more fun with company.  Also, consider staying in Calistoga, St. Helena, or Rutherford.  The CIA campus is some 20 miles from Napa proper, a slow commute on Highway 29, which narrows to one lane for most of this stretch.

* * *

Additional Reading

Playtime for Foodies:  New Programs for Non-Pros at Culinary Institute of America

Five Things You Haven’t Done in Wine Country

Five Great Places to Stay, Five  Wine Country Towns

For me and Camp Schramsberg it was love at first sip.  I’d known of the event since June.  I toured the winery then, to research articles for my Examiner column, and my love for the bubbly glowed brightly.  At home, I explained to my Schramsberg hosts, there was always a bottle of sparkling in my fridge, and I needed no preamble to pop the cork.  For a glorious hour, I took a private tour of the caves, dug deep on the history of the winery and tasted six amazing vintages.  My starry-eyed reverence must have been rare, for they recognized me as one of their own.  Shortly after my visit, I was invited to be a guest of the winery’s fall session of Camp Schramsberg.  I couldn’t accept quickly enough.

The Itinerary:  Two mornings participating in the wine making process (e.g., picking grapes, sampling juices in various stages of fermentation, blending), two afternoons at Culinary Institute of America (CIA) in tasting and pairing sessions, and two evenings at exquisite dinners featuring Schramsberg wines.

The Scene:  25 guests from across the country included wine enthusiasts (mostly wine club members), industry players (restaurateurs, hoteliers, buyers for distributors and retailers), and press (in our case, three journalists) who arrived with an existing appreciation for sparkling wine.  The tone was set by the witty and knowledgeable chief winemaker and heir to the Schramsberg empire, Hugh Davies, and the gentle and talented Holly Peterson, chef instructor and enologist at CIA.

Highlights:  The opportunity to “try before you buy” at least a dozen rare vintages you’d not otherwise find the chance to sample; wine maker Sean Thompson’s amazing Cabernet Sauvignon called J. Davies (the 2006 earned 91 points in Wine Spectator and is a true hidden gem of Schramsberg); learning the trick to opening a sparkling wine bottle with a saber; beautifully paired foods including Hog Island Oysters and pit-roasted lamb.

The Verdict:  If you like hands-on education, copious amounts of gourmet food and sparkling wine, and the opportunity to meet others who are as infatuated with bubbly as you, Camp Schramsberg is for you.

Advice:  Join the wine club.   Schramsberg’s parties are reputed to be among the best in the valley, and both the Cellar Club ($100/shipment with four shipments a year) and the more exclusive Riddler’s Circle ($350/shipment with four shipments a year) offer great value, and the Riddler’s Circle features such limited-issue wines that there is a waiting list to join!

Read more about Camp Schramsberg in my Examiner article.

For me and Camp Schramsberg it was love at first sip.  The event had been on my radar since June, when I toured the winery to research articles for my Examiner column.  At home, I explained to my Schramsberg hosts, there was always a bottle of sparkling in my fridge, and I needed no preamble to pop the cork.  For a glorious hour, I took a private tour of the caves, dug deep on the history of the winery and tasted six amazing vintages.  My starry-eyed reverence must have glowed brightly, for they recognized me as one of their own.  When I was invited to be a guest of the winery’s fall session of Camp Schramsberg, I couldn’t accept quickly enough.  Here are some notes on my experience, and advice on how best to enjoy this gem:

Schramsberg Bottles - Post-Saber

The Itinerary: Two mornings participating in the wine making process (e.g., picking grapes, sampling juices in various stages of fermentation, blending), two afternoons at Culinary Institute of America (CIA) in tasting and pairing sessions, and two evenings at exquisite dinners featuring Schramsberg wines.

The Scene: 25 guests from across the country included wine enthusiasts (mostly wine club members), industry players (restaurateurs, hoteliers, buyers for distributors and retailers), and press (in our case, three journalists) who arrived with an existing appreciation for sparkling wine.  The tone was set by the witty and knowledgeable chief winemaker and heir to the Schramsberg empire, Hugh Davies, and the gentle and talented Holly Peterson, chef instructor and enologist at CIA.

Highlights: The opportunity to “try before you buy” at least a dozen rare vintages you’d not otherwise find the chance to sample; wine maker Sean Thompson’s amazing Cabernet Sauvignon called J. Davies (the 2005 earned 91 points in Wine Spectator and is a true hidden treasure of Schramsberg); learning the trick to opening a sparkling wine bottle with a saber; beautifully paired foods included Hog Island Oysters and pit-roasted lamb.

Drawbacks: At $1,100 for tuition and ~$800 for two nights in nearby luxury accommodations, Fall Camp Schramsberg isn’t cheap.  Add in the cash you’ll be tempted to spend on the second night’s dinner (which is optional), wine to take home, and other swag, and a total of $2,300 for one person and $3,500 for a couple is possible.   Consider economizing by attending the spring camp, which may offer better seasonal hotel rates, or by foregoing a pricey luxury hotel–you won’t spend much time there anyway and a switch to more basic accommodations will shave several hundred dollars off of the total trip price.

The Verdict: If you like hands-on education, copious amounts of gourmet food and sparkling wine, and the opportunity to meet others who are equally as infatuated with bubbly, Camp Schramsberg is for you.

Advice: Join the wine club.   Schramsberg’s parties are reputed to be among the best in the valley, and both the Cellar Club ($100/shipment with four shipments a year) and the more exclusive Riddler’s Circle ($350/shipment with four shipments a year) offer great value.  The Riddler’s Circle features such limited-issue wines that there is a waiting list to join!

Read more about Camp Schramsberg in my Examiner article.

“Checking in today?” an über-polite attendant asks as I pull up to the security checkpoint of a five star resort.

“Yes, under Kim Palacios,” I confirm with subdued politesse.

Beaming cheerfully as he scans his list, his smile grows impossibly brighter when he finds my name.

“Welcome to the resort, Ms. Palacios.  If you drive up the hill and follow signs to reception, our front desk staff will check you in.”

I thank him, of course, with as enthusiastic a smile as I can muster, and prepare to be on my way.

“Enjoy your stay!” he sings after me, his itchy hand already worrying the walkie-talkie on his desk.

I pass the half-mile drive in abject fear, knowing the next 15 minutes will find me herded, tugged, and talked at by a small army of hotel staff hell-bent on providing “good service”.  My suspicions are confirmed as a kettle of uniformed attendants smile salaciously at my approach.

“Welcome to the resort, Ms. Palacios,” the first one says, reaching for the door of my still-moving car.

A second pops my trunk, while a clipboard-adorned third grins at me from the landing.  I am so busy bracing myself for the assault that I have no time to curse these misguided attempts at customer service.  And, it is too late for flight.  The vultures have descended.

You know what I’m talking about, because it’s happened to you.  The hefty premium you pay to experience the most dazzling destinations in the grandest style is undermined by tranquility-stealing moments such as these.  The resorts, of course, are attempting to show you how astutely they can anticipate your needs.  Yet, if your need is to relax, these predatory practices are doomed fall flat.

Here are a few winning practices that are not as universal as they should be, examples of their worst offenders, and honorable mentions to the resorts that don’t fall into the trap:

Winning Practice #1:  Don’t assume that I want help.  I may have a good reason for wanting to carry my own bag, park my own car, make my own arrangements, or exercise any other counterintuitive little quirk.  In other cases, I do want help, but would appreciate space around accepting it.  Resorts that provide great service stay true to the concept of offering—help is yours because you choose to take it, not because they are staunch about giving it.  Predatory offenders:  the car valet/bellman duo.  Some pointers for vultures:  wait for instructions for what to take and what not to take before pulling stuff out of my car.  Kudos to:  Solage Calistoga, for a relaxed guest intake process.

Winning Practice #2:  Don’t assume that I need my ego stroked.  While some people want most to be fawned over, others want most to be left alone.  The best resorts employ staff members that not only have a good intuitive sense for which they are dealing with, but who take cues and adjust quickly to non-verbal feedback from guests.  Worst offenders:  people who wander over randomly to “make sure I am enjoying my stay”.  Some pointers for vultures:  only come over if you are sure I would relish the attention, or if you are sure the attention is not interruptive.  Kudos to: The Peninsula Chicago, for keeping superfluous interactions to a minimum.

Winning Practice #3:  Curb your wait staff.  Just because my drink is almost empty doesn’t mean I am ready to order another one.  Just because my water glass isn’t filled to the brim doesn’t mean I need more.  Same goes for dumping the one cigarette butt in my ashtray, swiping the three breadcrumbs off of my table cloth, and making ordering decisions when I’ve had the menu in my hand for less than two minutes.  The best resorts provide a stress-free environment for enjoying food, drink, and conversation.  Worst offenders:  restaurants with overly-specialized staff (e.g., waiter, food-runner, bus person, bread person, water person, etc.) or too many people to know when guests are over-attended.  Some pointers for vultures:  if I’m still chewing, I’m not done.  Kudos to:  Four Seasons Maui, for employing wait staff that come running if you signal for them, but otherwise stay out of your way.

Winning Practice #4:  Don’t assume I don’t know the score.  While some guests only stay at luxury resorts once a year (or less) for special occasions, “power travelers” have ample experience with high-caliber hotels and may even have stayed at your resort before.  As a power traveler, I don’t want to sit through one or more people rattling off standard amenities.  Even less do I want hotel staff pointing out things that are self-evident, such as the bathroom, the fireplace, or the deck (this happened to me as recently as last weekend at a $3,000/night resort).  Every minute I spend being forced to listen to things I don’t care about is a minute I’m not relaxing.  Worst offenders:  bellmen, front desk staff.  Some pointers for vultures:  ask whether I want a briefing before launching into the standard speech.  Kudos to:  Pebble Beach Resorts, for having the wisdom to know the difference.

“Checking in today?” an über-polite attendant asks as I pull up to the security checkpoint of a five star resort.

“Yes, under Kim Palacios,” I confirm with subdued politesse.

Beaming cheerfully as he scans his list, his smile grows impossibly brighter when he finds my name.

“Welcome to the resort, Ms. Palacios.  If you drive up the hill and follow signs to reception, our front desk staff will check you in.”

I thank him, of course, with as enthusiastic a smile as I can muster, and prepare to be on my way.

“Enjoy your stay!” he sings after me, his itchy hand already worrying the walkie-talkie on his desk.

I pass the half-mile drive in abject fear, knowing the next 15 minutes will find me herded, tugged, and talked at by a small army of hotel staff hell-bent on providing “good service”.  My suspicions are confirmed as a kettle of uniformed attendants smile salaciously at my approach.

“Welcome to the resort, Ms. Palacios,” the first one says, reaching for the door of my still-moving car.

A second pops my trunk, while a clipboard-adorned third grins at me from the landing.  I am so busy bracing myself for the assault that I have no time to curse these misguided attempts at customer service.  And, it is too late for flight.  The vultures have descended.

You know what I’m talking about, because it’s happened to you.  The hefty premium you pay to experience the most dazzling destinations in the grandest style is undermined by tranquility-stealing moments such as these.  The resorts, of course, are attempting to show you how astutely they can anticipate your needs.  Yet, if your need is to relax, these predatory practices are doomed fall flat.

Here are a few winning practices that are not as universal as they should be, examples of their worst offenders, and honorable mentions to the resorts that don’t fall into the trap:

Winning Practice #1:  Don’t assume that I want help. I may have a good reason for wanting to carry my own bag, park my own car, make my own arrangements, or exercise any other counterintuitive little quirk.  In other cases, I do want help, but would appreciate space around accepting it.  Resorts that provide great service stay true to the concept of offering—help is yours because you choose to take it, not because they are staunch about giving it.  Worst offenders:  the car valet/bellman duo.  Some pointers for vultures:  wait for instructions for what to take and what not to take before pulling stuff out of my car.  Kudos to:  Solage Calistoga, for a relaxed guest intake process.

Winning Practice #2:  Don’t assume that I need my ego stroked. While some people want most to be fawned over, others want most to be left alone.  The best resorts employ staff members that not only have a good intuitive sense for which they are dealing with, but who take cues and adjust quickly to non-verbal feedback from guests.  Worst offenders:  people who wander over randomly to “make sure I am enjoying my stay”.  Some pointers for vultures:  only come over if you are sure I would relish the attention, or if you are sure the attention is not interruptive.  Kudos to: The Peninsula Chicago, for keeping superfluous interactions to a minimum.

Winning Practice #3:  Curb your wait staff. Just because my drink is almost empty doesn’t mean I am ready to order another one.  Just because my water glass isn’t filled to the brim doesn’t mean I need more.  Same goes for dumping the one cigarette butt in my ashtray, swiping the three breadcrumbs off of my table cloth, and making ordering decisions when I’ve had the menu in my hand for less than two minutes.  The best resorts provide a stress-free environment for enjoying food, drink, and conversation.  Worst offenders:  restaurants with overly-specialized staff (e.g., waiter, food-runner, bus person, bread person, water person, etc.) or too many people to know when guests are over-attended.  Some pointers for vultures:  if I’m still chewing, I’m not done.  Kudos to:  Four Seasons Maui, for employing wait staff that come running if you signal for them, but otherwise stay out of your way.

Winning Practice #4:  Don’t assume I don’t know the score. While some guests only stay at luxury resorts once a year (or less) for special occasions, “power travelers” have ample experience with high-caliber hotels and may even have stayed at your resort before.  As a power traveler, I don’t want to sit through one or more people rattling off standard amenities.  Even less do I want hotel staff pointing out things that are self-evident, such as the bathroom, the fireplace, or the deck (this happened to me as recently as last weekend at a $3,000/night resort).  Every minute I spend being forced to listen to things I don’t care about is a minute I’m not relaxing.  Worst offenders:  bellmen, front desk staff.  Some pointers for vultures:  ask whether I want a briefing before launching into the standard speech.  Kudos to:  Pebble Beach Resorts, for having the wisdom to know the difference.

As I drove over the rainbow bridge, curving right up 29 and easing past the turnoff to Sonoma, the embrace of the vine-laden hills filled me with the requisite joy of being in wine country.  I’d like to be able to say that I held on to that joy—that it unequivocally and indelibly infiltrated my system and colored a rapturous stay.  It didn’t. 

To my chagrin, I was in the midst of a months-long snit about Napa.  Fundamentally, I loved the place, but I had recently come to resent Napa proper for being overcrowded and the entire region for being over-commercialized.  Of late, I had endured the southern end of 29 only because it took me through to Calistoga.  Quite honestly, if I hadn’t received an enthusiastic personal recommendation to check out the Oak Knoll Inn, I would not have been headed to Napa at all.

The recommendation came from Dianne Jacob, food writer extraordinaire and former coach to proprietor Barbara Passino, who she’d assisted in bringing “Chocolate for Breakfast” to fruition.  Not one to grant casual praise, Dianne’s account of the inn’s opulence and what she vowed would be an unparalleled two-course breakfast were intriguing.  I shot Barbara an e-mail and asked when I could come for a visit.

By the time I got half a mile down Oak Knoll Road, my hostility was abating.  I’ve always been a sucker for tree-lined avenues with branches that arch over the road in leafy canopies—that effect, combined with vineyards planted on both sides of the lane resurrected some of my joy.  The light but discernable fragrance of jasmine as I walked up the steps of the stone-faced inn provoked another wave.     And the first journey into my room, which featured a 13-foot palladium window looking out at orange flowers right below and Stag’s Leap mountain in the distance, prevented me from denying an encroaching truth: I didn’t really hate Napa, I loved it.