Fine dining in Napa

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Max demonstrating eating methodology.  

(By the way, it is difficult to photograph this kid.  He sees the camera, forgets whatever cute thing warranted the picture, and instead reaches for the camera to touch the buttons.  We may have to use a telephoto lens from 50 yards away.)

Delia and I have spent most of our evenings and weekends over the past year in the house, saying "Light!  Light!  Fan!  Fan!  Light!" whilst Max points at them.  However, Delia has recently become more intrepid and decided to book us for a weekend in Napa.  Great restaurants, a great hotel in the lovely neighboring town of Fairfield (lovely is probably too strong a word, but it is okay, it's 30 minutes from Napa and is way cheaper.)  Food, wine, hotels...what's gonna happen with Max?

We've had plenty of memories of Max barely able to sit through a lunch at Chipotle, and he's always slept in a crib at night.  Can he handle a 90-minute lunch?  Can we handle him?  Who will be left standing when we, or at least some of us, return home Sunday evening?

It's a 2.25 hour drive from our house to Napa.  This, in itself, is way too long for the kid.  The last half hour was filled with screaming and could have been worse if we didn't discover Max loves us singing in an opera voice.  However, after the conclusion of the 14-hour drive, or so it seemed, we finally made it to our lunch destination - a taco truck near a furniture outlet.

The La Esperanza Taco truck was highly rated by Yelp.  Say what you want of the rating service, but Delia and I had a seat off the 4-lane road on the artificial turf in the Furniture Mart parking lot (I forgot what Max was doing a the time, so let's just imagine he was, I dunno, wandering into heavy traffic), and had the best fish tacos we've ever tried.  Absolutely exploding with flavor, and...oh yeah, this isn't a food blog.  Anyway, it was really good, and Max liked it as well.  OK, onward.  The real test was in the evening, when we went to Bistro Jeanty, a fine homestyle French restaurant that received one star from Michelin. 

From lots of experience with this kid, I had a really difficult time imagining this would turn out well; our restaurant experiences usually involve us sitting and waiting for Max to go off, which he does, at which point one of us has to leave and entertain him while the other person eats alone.  The question was, how much taking care of Max would degrade our restaurant experience.  (Max, if you are reading this later, we may seem selfish talking about you in these terms.  All we have to say is, wait till you take your own kids to a restaurant.)

So how did it turn out?

Max and Delia at Bistro Jeanty.  Max frequently wandered over to the bearded gentleman in the turtleneck (back of photo) to check on his food.

Surprisingly, Max was great.  Basically one of us would walk him around while the other one would space out at the table.  Perhaps we're getting used to walking him around while waiting for food, but really, it's more entertaining than sitting in a chair anyway.  Max investigated the outside parking lot, the car tires, the chair arrangements, the palm trees, and of course, whatever everyone else was eating.    The food?  Fine, I suppose.  They gave a Michelin star to the restaurant.  I think they also need to award one to the taco truck.

OK, dinner done, now time for the hotel.  We stayed at a hotel in Fairfield that was close to, surprisingly, a very nice marina (the bay has lots of tributaries that go very far inland, I found.)

Max at the exercise room.

We had some time to kill so we did our normal routine - find a Borders bookstore and let Max run around.

Max found the following rabbit in the kids section.

We unloaded our pack N' Play and put Max to bed at 10pm.

Only Max wasn't having any of it. Normally, we dump him in his crib, close the door, and wait until hopefully, dear god, the wailing stops and he passes out.   Watching him stand up, stare at us, and cry 10 feet away is a whole new level of sadism.  So we gave up and let him play until 11:00, when he finally went to bed.

Until he woke up at 11:45.  And 1:00am.  And 3:00 am.

I'm not here to give morality lectures, but I think it's important for kids to have two parents, because at times like these at least one of them will think he's more valuable alive.  This night, that person was me.   I fetched the stroller from the car and took him for a ride through the hotel hallway.

Max at about 4:00 am.  Kindly tilt your head to the side to view the video.

It was a really surreal experience.  Fox News was blaring in the main lobby.  I never watch Fox News but it was riveting.  They broke to a commercial by showing Obama talking from a podium in a grainy black-and-white format, and then showed Mao Tse-Tung addressing the crowd in exactly the same grainy format.  Probably just a coincidence.  Overall, though, I did learn that Mr. Obama hates America, and Max is still wide awake.

45 minutes in, the desk clerk was clearly feeling sorry for me, and offered to take care of Max so I could go to sleep.  Hmm....that would be really helpful.  Possibly a child abductor...would that be a bad thing?  Delia would probably be okay with it now, but what about tomorrow morning?

After some rumination, I politely declined and strollered him back and forth across the first floor.  And back.  And forth.    And had these conversations:

Max:  (Pointing at ceiling):  "Ehhh!"
Me:  Ceiling.
Max:  (Pointing at carpet):  "Ehhh!"
Me:  Carpet.
Max:  (Pointing at door):  "Ehhh!"
Me:  Door.
(Repeat about 140 times).

At about 4:05 am, Max started yawning, and about 10 minutes later he finally (finally!) drifted off to sleep.  Until the stroller hit a small bump in the carpet.  He then lurched himself awake, pointed at the ceiling and said, "Ehhh!"  Eventually, though, he finally passed out for good, so I gently placed him in the crib, where he blissfully slept until 5:30 am.  Thankfully, Delia remembered she loved Max, and put him in her arms and slept in the bed with him until he woke up at 6:30 am.

It's now Sunday and we have a full itinerary!  Dear God.  We're tired, but happily, we wake up and finally eat lunch at a place called Bottega.

Max at Bottega.

Max at Bottega.  

(The alert reader may wonder, "Isn't Max wearing a new shirt?  Hmm...the table is different.  What's going on?  Hey!  What are you trying to pull here?"  In fact, Max is at a totally different restaurant in this photo, but the photo fits the story.  The blogger wishes he did not have such alert readers.  So please do not dwell on these inconsistencies and enjoy the rest of the tale.)

Bottega served Italian food, it was opened to the outdoors, and it was what we were looking for.  Fantastic food, friendly people who didn't mind Max doing a meet-and-greet with the customers, and better yet, it opened into an outdoor shopping area.  Great for Max to play around between courses.

In particular, there was a small rustic wagon outside a store entry.  On the wagon was an antique watering can.  The set was something like $140.  Max was attracted to the setup and decided to make the wagon more rustic by repeatedly bashing it against a wine barrel.