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Swirling with a winemaker: Day one - Carmel
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A bite of Boston in Carmel, California
For five days I’ll be writing a story about traveling through Wine Country -- through the eyes of a Boston area winemaker. For several years, Frank Spadafora has been producing award-winning upscale wines, made with California grapes – yet has never visited the California area from which he gets his grapes.
But first, two days in Carmel are in order to unwind and get set for a busy itinerary in Napa and Sonoma.
Ok, so Carmel was my idea. Ever since I was a young woman, reading Harlequin romance novels by the dozen, I fantasized about finding love on the coast of Carmel. And now I get to spend a few days here with the love of my life. Even better!
So what if we had to sit on the plane for 5 ½ hours before taking off for a 6 hour flight. We finally got here. And so what if the ride to Carmel from San Francisco took 2 hours? We arrived at the phenomenal Carmel Valley Ranch Resort, marveled at the green trees and land in January, and checked into our luxury suite, with a gas fireplace in the bedroom, a balcony overlooking the valley – and a bathroom as big as my living room.
Dining at Citronelle, in the renovated lodge on the resort, was a destination on its own. Following suit to our suite, cathedral ceilings are signature to Carmel Valley Ranch. Entering the spacious Citronelle bar, our eyes were drawn to hundreds of bottles in the glass-enclosed climate-controlled wine storage area, just past the luxurious lounge and bar area. And then we entered Citronelle. My breath was taken away by the view of Live Oak trees lit for display from the window of walls. From there, my eyes were drawn to the cover on the cathedral ceiling – an artful arrangement of halogen lighting in rows between linen drapes.
We were seated in a spacious 15-table luxurious area that adjoins a separate 26-seat private dining room before enjoying a glass of St. Michelle’s Blanc de Blanc sparkling wine from Washington State. After 11 hours on a plane, we toasted to finally landing. We were ravenous, and ordered two appetizers to share: Chestnut Soup with Duck Confit, which was delicious to distraction (I couldn’t think of anything but enjoying the unique taste of chestnut puree) and a Caeser salad with goat cheese and bit of tomato.
We ordered entrees of Chateaubriand in a syrah sauce, and a 72-hour braised prime beef short rib. Both were stupendous in both presentation and taste. A bottle of 2004 Frances Coppolla Claret from Napa worked nicely with our meals. Although stuffed, we had to share the specialty dessert, as it reminded us both of the Boston winter we left behind. The Snowman creation, made with meringue and filled with vanilla gelato, stood tall on the plate. A twig in hand was the only unedible part. Frank and I devoured the candy scarf, chocolate snowballs and hat; the snowman disappeared faster than Frosty did in the greenhouse.
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