The Tuscan Castle... In NAPA.

So, I caught wind of an anomaly in the hills of the Napa Valley not too long ago and decided that it must be checked out. I mean, really.

The anomaly was this: A Castle. A Tuscan Castle. In NAPA. A New Tuscan Castle in Napa.

Say WHA????

For real tho, yo.

It's legit.

Ever heard of V. Sattuti Vineyard? (I hadn't, so don't feel bad if you haven't either.) Apparently it's quite famous. Well. The owner is a generational wine maker, whose roots go back to Italia. Thirty years ago he decided to fulfill his lifelong dream of building a Tuscan Castle in the Napa Valley. He researched and researched and researched the heck out of medeival Tuscan castles in Tuscany (Where else??), then began to build. His attention to detail is phenomenal!! (for instance, you'll notice the poppies that line the vines are red poppies like those found in Italy, rather than the native orange Californian poppies.) He used building techniques all authentic to their original period: The castle walls are mortared with proper mortar, of lime, sand and water. All of the bricks used in the construction of the Castle are over 200 years old, imported from Germany, Italy, etc. There are Roman Vaulted ceilings in the cellars, which no one in America knew how to build, so he imported Italian builders to do it. The whole place is simply astonishing.

Well, in 2005, the place was finished. It is now open for touring, tasting, etc. There are 108 rooms in the Castle over 8 levels. There is even a torture chamber and a pit of despair!! You have got to see this place!

It's called Castello di Amorosa. The Castle of Love. (Yah, sounds cheesy, but I think Amorosa actually translates to more of a "labor of love" than romantic love... but don't hold it against me if I'm wrong. My Italian is non molto bene, not very good).

So head on out to the Napa Valley. Enjoy the gorgeous drive and the amazing scenery stop off at Castello di Amorosa for a wonderfully informative tour of the Castle.  Just don't close yourself into the Iron Maiden. Seriously. Oh, if you're a drinker of alcoholic things, the tour includes tastings of the Vineyard's wares. I, however, thoroughly enjoyed the muscat grape juice made on premises.

Photos!

Manic Monday

Last Monday, being the holiday that it was (Which holiday was it, exactly? Really. I have no clue.)
I worked. Yah. You heard right. Rush project due the next day, so I worked.

But around 11 I needed out. I turned into a steaming pile of mush and couldn't think. So I decided to take a brain break and I hit the road. By noon I was tooling down Highway 29, out past Napa, Yountville and just hitting the gorgeous vined area of Oakville and of course I stopped in at my favorite little place to grab a sandwich, Oakville Grocery. One Chicken and Gruyere in my backpack later and I was hoofing it back into the muddy Napa hills on a hike. I only hiked for an hour before heading back home to finish my work, but it was an hour much needed and well spent. Head cleared. Back on task.

Check out the gorgeous day, as seen through my new fisheye lens adapter:

Calistoga Field Trip

I was born in the Napa Valley. (Yes, as in snooty-falooty "Nah-pah, dah-ling.") And though I grew up in a neighboring village, I spent quite a bit of time out in the valley at various church and social activities during my childhood and teen years. (Think: cars full of teen friends driving down a dark highway verrrrry fast with the windows rolled down, howling at the moon on their way to dancing activities and Denny's for french fries dipped in strawberry milkshakes... yum!)


You never value what you grow up with while you're doing the growing. 

That's really my point. Well. For now.

You take it for granted. Childhood, that is.

SO.

Imagine my surprise, when I moved away, at learning just how much EVERYOOOOONE else and their dog loved the San Francisco bay area, especially Nah-pah and the surrounding area.
I mean, I knew it was pretty, but pretty much could care less.

Ya know?

When I moved back here three years ago, I made sure to go on expeditions back in the Napa hills and reacquaint myself with my old stomping grounds. But I really haven't gone back since.

Until last weekend. It was time. I hit the road, fully intending to go hiking at Point Reyes along the beach.

But.

Instead.

I turned left. 
Because I felt like it. And isn't that really the only reason for a thirty-year old single woman with time on her hands and a full tank of gas to do something fun? I think yes. (Narcissism is mandatory on pointless, spur-of-the-moment expeditions, you know.)

And I went out towards Napa. And at a loooooooooong stop light I googled hiking places in the Napa hills and ended up driving along lovely highway 29, out past Napa. Through St. Helena and Oakville and Yountville. Right on to Calistoga.

And let me tell you, I could have done just the drive alone and been a happy camper. Gorgeous! Stunning! Breathtaking! I sure don't drink, but I LOVE me some wine country.

I stopped at two fabulous places on my drive: Oakville Grocery, where I had the (hands-down) best sandwich I've ever eaten in my life. Truly. When you're out that way be sure to stop for the Roasted Chicken and Gruyere panini. It changed my life. Okay, just kidding. But sandwiches will never be the same again.

Lunch. Check. Delicious. Check.

Hike. Fun!

I am an accident-prone girl.

It was a good bleeder. Not serious. Patched it up with Neosporin and a bandage. 

Nothing like hike triage.

Seriously cool and not-shy lizard.

The tree in the middle is my favorite.

After my hike I stopped in at my first Dean and Delucca in Sonoma. What an experience.
Okay.
I live literally a block away from a Whole Foods Market.
Soooo... Dean and Delucca just seemed like a slightly posher version of a Whole Foods. It didn't exactly live up to the Felicity-hype that I thought it would. And the people in it!  

Holy funny circus, Batman:

It started in the parking lot. I hopped out of my cute Jeep. Bandana on head, hair in two messy, post-hike braids, wearing a sweaty t-shirt and cargo shorts coated in fresh blood from my knee injury. As I'm walking into the store, I walk past a couple exiting their Mercedes and the woman looked me up and down with disdain. I just smiled at her and went into the store. The kind of smile that was really me laughing at her because of how silly she was. Dare I call it a smirk? Yes.  

Because, really, pretentious people deserve nothing more than just to be laughed at.

And then inside! Oh! A store full of frenetic people trying to convince themselves that they beloooong in that yuppy store, dahhhhling! I walked around with my face all scrunched up as I observed silly human behavior.

And then I was distracted by the pastry counter. Like any good girl ought to be.

 


I have a ridiculously demanding sweet tooth. Normally I only feed it sugar on Fridays. But there are exceptions, such as this particular Saturday. Because clearly a trip to Napa (and the afforementioned pastry counter) was an exception to the no-sugar rule, I couldn't resist buying two things: A petit Gateau to rival any desert at the Cheesecake factory, and a brownie concoction that was actually a shortbread cookie covered in vanilla custard and topped in hardened chocolate. DEEEE-vine! I was seriously sugar high driving home. And for the rest of the day after, as I fed my inner sugar-monster bites of the day's take over a video-type time lapsed blur (in my mind). Yum.

Go to Napa, people. Better yet, go to Calistoga, Yountville, Sonoma. Explore Northern California's wine country. It's gorgeous. Eat. Hike. Drive. (But obviously don't Drink. Drive.)

And maybe you'll figure out for yourself why the region inspires the overly-voweled use of the word darling.