Scooped! Just after the last Napa Insider column went to bed, Bon Appetit magazine announced its 12th annual awards, described as “a Hot 10 of people, companies, and products setting new standards of culinary excellence.”
Of those 10 national trend-setters, two are from Napa: agripreneur Steve Sando of Rancho Gordo, praised “for his commitment to the preservation of rare and heirloom beans,” and chef Jeremy Fox of Ubuntu, “for creating innovative, inspired vegetarian food”(http://www.bonappetit.com/magazine/baawards/2009/10/baa_2009). These high-profile awards are the latest signal that the city by the river has established itself as a foodie capital, a place that excels in both traditional ingredients (Rancho Gordo’s old-fashioned legumes, available online at www.ranchogordo.com or at his showroom, 1924 Yajome Street) and creative new preparations (Fox’s Ubuntu menu, served seven days at 1140 Main Street; www.ubuntunapa.com).
Both Fox and Sando have already earned national accolades in the New York Times and the top culinary magazines, but they’re not letting all the attention go to their heads. Fox has people to feed seven days a week; Sando’s bean business keeps him traveling back and forth between Napa and rural Mexico, where he seeks out small farmers producing indigenous bean varieties with names like rebozero and flor de Junio. “They have different textures, different flavors; they look gorgeous and they’re usually handed down from generation to generation,” Sando says. “It’s like eating history: Each bean has a story. That’s why we only grow New World varieties of things: I like to think of us as the Americas, as opposed to being descended from Europe.” Some of the nation’s top chefs, including Thomas Keller, insist on Rancho Gordo beans, which are brought to market within a year of harvest. By comparison, Sando says, supermarket beans can be sold for up to 10 years, by which time “they take longer to cook and lose what’s interesting about them.”
Along with the Mexican farmers, Sando contracts with growers in Galt, Thornton and Stockton, who raise traditional varieties with names like Good Mother Stallard, Yellow Indian Woman and Jacob’s Cattle. “These beans were missing from the market,” he says. “That’s why I grew them. Like tomatoes, the heirlooms have a lower yield—but they taste better. It’s harder to get them grown commercially, but the payoff is in the flavor and texture.” Sando, whose first cookbook was published by Chronicle Books in 2008, is now working on a field guide to 101 heirloom beans; he’s also an enthusiastic blogger and tweeter: http://ranchogordo.typepad.com/ and http://twitter.com/ranchogordo.
Just across the river from Rancho Gordo and Ubuntu, the retail scene continues to evolve at the Oxbow Public Market on First Street. One of the market’s original tenants has closed up shop, while two other members of the Oxbow Class of 2007 have expanded; a fourth, Folio Enoteca (owned by the Michael Mondavi family), has dismantled the microwinery that accompanied its restaurant and is now using the space for food and wine sales.
Fete, a gift shop owned by the wife of one of Oxbow’s principals, quietly packed up its furbelows and moved out in August, turning over its space to a neighbor across the aisle, Lisa Minucci of Heritage Culinary Artifacts. Minucci, a sommelier with an unequalled eye for unusual food- and wine-related antiques, arts and crafts, has used the added square footage to showcase some larger pieces that didn’t fit into her original shop; she’s also added shelves for vintage dishes and glassware, and a second showcase for silver and small collectibles.
Also inside the Oxbow market hall, the Venezuelan “street food” vendor Pica Pica has doubled its space, opening a beer and sangria bar to complement the maize-based arepas, crispy yucca fries and other savory dishes that have won a loyal following of Napans. That raises to three the number of Oxbow establishments where one can belly up to a bar for wine, beer or ale: The Oxbow Wine Merchant and Hog Island Oyster Bar at the north end of the main market, plus Pica Pica at the southern end, make for the shortest pub crawl in Napa.
If the words “pub crawl” and “Napa” seem ill-suited for one another, here’s another odd concept: dancing in Napa. Some younger residents satirically call their hometown “the Footloose City” because of local ordinances meant to prohibit them from dancing in bars and restaurants. I say “prohibit them”—the twentysomething crowd—because I’ve seen plenty of older folks dancing in downtown Napa establishments on numerous occasions, none of which ended in a raid by the vice squad. No dance floor? No problem: at one spot that’s popular with locals, I recently watched a four-piece jazz group whip diners into such a frenzy that couples (mostly middle-aged and up, with a few younger partners) were twirling wherever they could find room between the tables. When the band played a Wild Tchoupitoulas song, six young women got up and started second lining as if we were all in New Orleans. Everybody in the place was smiling—and it was packed: My party had to wait more than half an hour past our reservation time before a table opened up for us. Good music was bringing in great business—what could be wrong with that, I thought; no wonder there’s no enforcement.
But if, say, the music were hip hop instead of jazz, and the median age of the dancers two or three decades younger; what would happen then? I fear we’re unlikely to find out anytime soon: Napa may be on the world map for artisanal foodstuffs and fine dining, but its nightlife has a long way to go.
