2006 Elyse C'est Si Bon Naggiar Vineyard

Let me begin by apologizing for my silence. I know people always say, "things are crazy" or "I've just been so busy," but they really have been. And I really have been. And, unfortunately, these updates were the first thing to slide down to the bottom of my To Do list.

Still, not an excuse. And I'm sorry (, mom).

However, I'm returning to you today with a beyond exciting experience to share, one that will make you utterly jealous - and certainly helped me re-enter civilization in style after an unrelenting week with my head in the books. Last week was mainly spent studying for my first WSET exam, which I took on Saturday afternoon (pause for sigh of relief) and was the main reason for why I was neglecting you.

I'm sure most of you - within the US and beyond - are familiar with the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, an annual display of floats and entertainment that marches through Manhattan on Thanksgiving morning. You're probably not familiar with the Calistoga Lighted Tractor parade, an annual spectacle featuring a string of locals riding their tractors all dolled up in lights down Lincoln Ave, the town's main thoroughfare. Let me tell you, it easily puts the Macy's tradition to shame.











Claudine, a friend and former colleague from New York, agreed. She was in town visiting for the evening after working an event in San Francisco, and was more than willing to push back our dinner to oblige my bizarre request to watch a bunch of tractors drive down the street. In the rain, no less (which it really hasn't stopped doing here for days). Her sister and niece even came along, who I later learned were parade veterans, being Calistoga residents.

We were still giggling over the sheer absurdity of it all as we dined later that night at Solbar, sharing a 2005 Spencer Roloson Tempranillo, the same bottle of wine that my friend, Leah, and I had enjoyed when we had eaten there for her goodbye dinner before she moved back to New Orleans in August. We also had the same server, Lindsay, a new friend who had taken the exam with me earlier that morning. (Yes, this valley is that small.)

That night I spent the second night in my new home. On my mattress on the floor, but in my new room, nonetheless. It's only two miles down the road, but it feels like a different universe. I have a much bigger space, with my own bathroom and walk-in closet. My new roommate, Noy, has a flair for decorating, and the house is both beautiful and comfortable. We have a fireplace and festive holiday decorations galore, and she even has the most elegant Christmas tree (sorry, dad - I promised I'd make latkes to share my culture in return!).

I had moved my bed over on Thursday evening (in the rain) and, on Sunday, I officially moved the remainder of my things over (in the rain - are you noticing a pattern?). It's going to take some work to make the space my own - until I get a dresser my socks will remain in a suitcase in the corner on the floor - but fortunately I have the expertise of a roommate who studied interior decorating, and just so happens to love to shop.

It's a new beginning and it couldn't have come at a more perfect time, after spending a week in New York celebrating the Thanksgiving holiday (and an early Hanukkah) with my family and friends. That trip recharged me in a way, allowed me to step back and really take a look at what I'm doing here and what it's all really for. I returned ready and able to cram every bit of viticulture and winemaking knowledge into my head that I could, to work hard and to get out there and enjoy the life I'm building in this small corner of the world.

I so easily lose sight of that as soon as I get caught up in it. I've been back barely a week and already I find myself worrying too much over the little things, sweating the small stuff a little too much. It's hard to see the bigger picture when your mind is wrapped up in the details.

Next on my list: improving my blind tasting abilities for my next WSET exam, which isn't until June 2011, yet for which I started "studying" at lunch yesterday at Bistro Jeanty in Yountville by identifying two reds (a California Pinot and a Côtes du Rhône). The waiter then tried to stump us with the Elyse C'est Si Bon from the Sierra Foothills, a Rhône style red blend with a little Viognier (a white grape) blended in to smooth over the wine (it had a little too much of a moderating effect, in my opinion).

It's a character flaw, I know, but I just can't seem to let my brain shut down. Maybe I could learn a thing or two from those farmers driving their tractors down Lincoln Ave all lit up - sometimes we just have to stop thinking and go with the flow. The result can certainly make for some amusing anecdotes.

And great photos, of course.