The water comes up to my neck. It’s so warm it feels almost womb-like. Ripples form as a couple of doves swoop down to skim the puddles next to the soaking pool. I float, exhausted from nearly ten hours of transit including a pre-dawn flight from Santiago to Lima, and then another hour-long flight to Arequipa in the south of Peru.

The sun casts a ray onto the facade of our room. The entire building is made from white volcanic stone bricks called sillar, the building material for all of Arequipa, known as the White City. The stone catches and holds the light differently depending on the hour, and even from the pool I can see how the shadows shift across the courtyard walls as the afternoon moves.

After soaking for a while, my husband sleepily emerges and eases into the pool. The tiredness is finally loosening its grip and I am starting to feel the itch to head out to explore.

A few hours earlier, we’d landed in Arequipa on Thanksgiving Day. With high crosswinds and a bumpy approach between three towering volcanoes, I was grateful to be safely on the ground. The road to town wound down and around the outer sprawl before eventually opening into the historic center where we arrived at our beautiful hotel, Cirqa.

Stepping through a single wooden door, the street disappeared behind me. Inside, the building, dating back to 1540, the narrow entrance opened into a series of courtyards connected through arched colonnades, with olive trees and linen canopies filtering the intense light overhead. With only eleven rooms, each room maintained the original vaulted ceiling — frescoed brick, nearly five centuries old — while everything else had been stripped to a spare, modern decor.

Feeling ravenous, and very thirsty, we sat down to order celebratory pisco sours to toast being back in Peru and experiencing the joy of Thanksgiving abroad (no cooking required). Two perfectly frothy cocktails arrived soon after, their bright, limey tang going down dangerously easily. We ordered grilled alpaca skewers with ají amarillo (yellow chili) sauce and solterita arequipeña, the most delectable salad of fresh fava beans, corn, tomatoes, olives, and queso caparella, the intensely salty cheese from the region. By the time the food arrived, I already wanted a second pisco sour.

“Tread lightly and hydrate,” I thought to myself. At 2,300 meters above sea level, Arequipa’s high, dry climate can sneak up on you, along with the pisco.

At golden hour, we set out for the Plaza de Armas, just two blocks from the hotel. As we approached, the narrow colonial streets gave way to an enormous square with the cathedral to the north, the arcades framing the sides, and the silhouette of Misti volcano rising just beyond the bell tower.

The entire colonial center is built from sillar, and at this hour it caught the last sunlight and bathed everything in an amber glow. Wreaths had already been placed on the cathedral doors and lights were being strung along the arcades. Workers were assembling a nativity scene in front of the church while locals were out paseando, strolling, and teenagers clustered on benches the way teenagers do everywhere.

There were not many tourists — the vibe was decidedly local. The first time I went to Peru in 2003, Cusco had this same undiscovered feel, and over the years we’ve watched it tip into crowd mitigation. Arequipa still felt like Peru before all of that.

We wandered until twilight then came back to the hotel where they had lit fogatas — bonfires — on the terrace. We sat outside with drinks and snacks, not particularly hungry after our late lunch. The atmosphere at Cirqa after dark, with the firelight dancing, was one of those evenings where you don’t need anything else. The city was already working its magic on us.

The next morning, bright and early, we rendezvoused with our guide, Leo, who was a born and raised arequipeño. We drove to the outskirts of the city to the quarry where all the sillar — ignimbrite, compressed ash and pumice — is extracted. What should have been a short drive stretched out with traffic and proved to be an unhinged obstacle course full of stray dogs and stoplights as suggestions — I was grateful to not be behind the wheel.

Leo explained that Arequipa sits in a protected zone and river valley that produces much of Peru’s exported fresh produce. Irrigation turns what would otherwise be high desert into an oasis. Ringed by three volcanoes — Misti, Chachani, and Pichu Pichu — Misti sits directly overhead at nearly 5,800 meters high. Being active, and close enough to the city center, an eruption scenario would produce a “Peruvian Pompeii” in about 17 minutes.

Nearing the quarry, the land turned blindingly white with huge cuts out of exposed earth. We passed the first section which felt like a theme park complete with a replica of Petra carved from the stone. We stopped to hike the Quebrada de Culebrillas, a mini-canyon surrounded by tall winding walls. As we scrambled over some of the rocks, Leo, with his wide-brimmed hat, reminded me of a Peruvian Indiana Jones.

We continued down the road with mountains of raw sillar boulders on either side. Leo had arranged for us to meet an artisan who still cuts sillar bricks by hand, a craft that has built the city for five hundred years. A man covered from head to toe including a face mask approached with an enormous ball in one cheek, looking like a chipmunk. He was chewing a wad of coca leaves, which is common among Andean workers in the altiplano. Coca leaves are energetic, suppress appetite, and make heavy manual labor at altitude considerably easier.

The artisan took a large block of sillar and explained how to split the stone. Placing the wedge into the grain in the center of the stone, with one precise whack, he cleaved the block in two. Being so lightweight and porous, and with the force applied correctly, the block separated almost willingly. He evened the edges, shaping it into a brick identical to the ones that make up every colonial building in the city. This is how literally every structure in Arequipa’s historic center has been built since the sixteenth century. These artisans are becoming scarce though — fewer people want this kind of labor, and the craft is slowly disappearing.

Back in the city, we spent the afternoon on foot. Walking through Arequipa, you start to feel how important this city once was with the grandeur of the churches and buildings. Positioned between Lima, the mining wealth of Potosí (Bolivia), and the ports of the Pacific, it became one of the great colonial strongholds of southern Peru — politically influential, deeply Catholic, and wealthy from trade and agriculture. Leo walked us through the historic center — church after church with Baroque gold interiors, the heavy ornamentation that the Spanish crown used as much for conversion as for worship.

While I was not up for visiting every single church in Arequipa, Leo insisted on showing us Iglesia de la Compañía with its intricate facade full of tropical birds, vines, flowers, masks, saints, and symbols and lavish gold interior. Built by the Jesuits during the height of Spanish colonial power, the church is one of the finest examples of Mestizo Baroque in Peru — European religious ornamentation fused with Indigenous craftsmanship, carved entirely from sillar. Wandering through the cloisters adjacent to the church, the arcaded courtyards felt almost Andalusian.

We zigzagged down busy commercial streets toward the San Camilo market for a glimpse into truly local culture, both food and people. Walking into the market, it was like stepping into the circulatory system of Arequipa. It was a pulsating maze. Leo motioned to follow him down an aisle stacked floor-to-ceiling with the wide-brimmed straw hats so iconic to Arequipa, that provide protection against the relentless sun.

We continued past stalls selling herbal remedies, lucky charms, bottles of floral water for protection against mal de ojo, offerings to the Pachamama, dried llama fetuses for ceremonial burial blessings, candles, saints, rosaries, and incense. Leo stopped to buy us charm bracelets made from Amazonian seeds for good luck. While standing there, I noticed the Virgin Mary nestled in coca leaves next to natural aphrodisiac pills called rompe calzones. Catholicism, Andean cosmology, and everyday superstition playing out in a uniquely Peruvian way.

I smelled the sweetness of the most aromatic pineapple, probably from the selva (jungle) and sure enough, the next corridor was full of fresh fruit and juices. Rows of women in aprons fed papaya, chirimoya, strawberries, bananas, and lúcuma into blenders while shouting orders back and forth over the roar of the market. We walked past vendors hawking dozens of varieties of potatoes and tubers from pebble-sized purple ones to the yellow speckled olluco, and long finger-like tubers called oca alongside sacks of giant corn, beans, and dried herbs from the Andes.

Across the way, there were stalls full of sauces made from different chilies from ají amarillo (which goes in almost everything in Peru) to the mild ají panca, fiery rocoto, and many more. Standing in the middle of all these ingredients, I understood why so many chefs consider Arequipa the cradle of Peruvian cuisine. Everything converges here. Ingredients from the Andes, the Amazon, and the Pacific coast meet in this valley, and the cooking that comes out of it is spicier and more layered than anywhere else in Peru.

From Mercado San Camilo, we made a beeline to the Monasterio de Santa Catalina, Arequipa’s crown jewel. Dating back to 1579, Santa Catalina occupies more than 20,000 square meters and functions less like a convent than an entire enclosed city. It remained sealed from the outside world for nearly four centuries before opening to the public in 1970.

As we entered, a large arch, painted in terracotta, read silencio. While that could be read as devotional, Santa Catalina was also where the wealthiest families paid enormous dowries to place daughters at as young as twelve or thirteen, often a symbol of status for the father. Yet this was one of the very few places in colonial Peru where women could receive an education, become literate, and live free from marriage and the colonial patriarchy.

The intensity of the colors from one area to the next — saturated shades of terracotta, indigo, cobalt, and burnt orange — created this constant oscillation between brightness and enclosure, joy and melancholy. At moments it felt devotional; at others, strangely domestic. Behind its massive walls were streets, plazas, kitchens, fountains, chapels, gardens, laundry areas, cemeteries, and individual living quarters where women entered with servants, artwork, porcelain china, and spacious apartments. Others lived in far more modest cells. The hierarchies of colonial society reproduced themselves almost perfectly inside the walls.

Leo ushered us through Santa Catalina and I kept thinking about Flora Tristán, the French-Peruvian writer and early feminist who traveled through Arequipa in the 1830s and wrote Peregrinations of a Pariah — one of the earliest detailed descriptions of Santa Catalina and a sharp criticism of the constraints placed on women in colonial Peruvian society. Tristán called herself une paria — a woman with no legal standing, no inheritance, no recourse. She saw in the convent walls what I was feeling walking through them: the architecture of a world that educated women only by enclosing them.

The convent felt suspended between refuge and confinement — one of the only doors open to a woman seeking a life of the mind, yet still entirely shaped by the structures that limited her freedom in the first place. I felt furious at how limited the options were, yet there was also evidence of women building lives inside those constraints: organizing kitchens, preserving recipes, creating devotional art, educating one another, and maintaining traditions that still survive today in the sweets prepared by the convent and sold in the gift shop.

I left Santa Catalina with a pit in my stomach. The best a woman could hope for in colonial Peru was an education inside a beautiful jail. And five centuries later, the fight for women’s education and agency still isn’t over.

Glancing down at my phone, I saw we had hit 25,000 steps — literally a half marathon walking around Arequipa. My feet were tired with reason. The sun had already set and the sky was that deep indigo blue at twilight. We bid farewell to Leo and settled into Cirqa’s chic dining room with crystal chandeliers and velvet banquettes for cocktails and dinner in the form of little bites — baby stuffed rocoto peppers and the famous chupe de camarones, a rich river shrimp chowder.

What a day it had been. Perhaps a little too crammed, but that’s how work trips go sometimes. I could still feel the heat and intensity of the day — the rocoto chili, the white glare of the quarry, the silencio arch at Santa Catalina. Fiery, luminous, and layered — Arequipa had gotten under my skin.

The next morning, we were heading four hours north to the Colca Canyon, but that’s another story… coming very soon.
Un abrazo,
Liz

The post Stone, Light, and Fire: Arequipa, Peru’s under-touristed south appeared first on Liz Caskey Culinary and Wine Experiences.

The Uruguayan Riviera returns February 19–25, 2027 — our third edition, and it gets better every time.

I‘m standing on the sand dunes above Playa Mansa in José Ignacio, Uruguay. Big raindrops — the fat, splattering kind — are beating down on my head and the cashmere sweater I am wearing to ward off the chill is quickly getting wet. Two hours ago, the sky turned a terrifying shade of dark blue-gray-green that looked like something from a sci-fi movie. I barely made it back from lunch in town to the bungalow before the heavens opened.

Earlier that day, the group had bid farewell, the end of our annual group journey, the Uruguayan Riviera. I was now in that blank space, an energetic vortex, that comes after a week of intense togetherness. A friend from Montevideo had just arrived to catch up and as we watched the rain pound the ground, we sipped a favorite Albariño.

Then the sky started to clear up. A seam of amber opened along the horizon as the sun dropped behind the tail end of the clouds heading towards sunset. The sand, the bungalow, us — were bathed in golden-ochre light, like being veiled inside a Renaissance painting. I knew this could only mean one thing…
We ran to the top of the dunes and there it was — a perfect full arc rainbow. It stretched from the Atlantic over the entire village of José Ignacio.

Besides being refracted light, I have always felt rainbows are direct communication from the universe, a bridge between worlds. You need the storm and the light. You don’t get one without the other. And it was the perfect crescendo to a week in Uruguay — a place that asks you to slow down, stop reaching for the next thing, and just be in it. The best things here arrive with paciencia.

We move from Montevideo’s Belle Époque elegance — with time to stroll La Rambla along the waterfront — through the rolling vineyards of Canelones, Uruguay’s historic wine heartland, where Tannat is poured in family cellars and long asados unfold alongside the vines. East into Maldonado province, where soft green pastures and olive groves meld into the sparkling azure of the South Atlantic, framed by eucalyptus and towering pines. We taste on hilltops, lunch at a producer’s home, and visit the atelier of a prominent artist making monumental marble sculptures set against sea and sky.

Then three nights in the dunes at Bahía Vik in José Ignacio — a village where the historic faro watches over the peninsula and carved wooden signs read aquí solo corre el viento: here, only the wind blows. Ride horseback along the beach with gauchos. Lie beneath a Skyspace at dusk — an hour of shifting light and color that plays with your perception of depth, sky, and where one ends and the other begins. Between experiences, José Ignacio does what it does best — long beachfront lunches, bare feet in the sand, ocean air, and nowhere to be.

And the grand finale: a sunset tapas tasting of iconic wines from across the country’s finest cellars, poured oceanfront. As the sun drops into the Atlantic, the sky turns blazing orange, then pink, then magenta, with the sketched silhouette of Punta del Este penciled against the horizon. It’s easy to fall for the encanto, the magic, of José Ignacio — and Uruguay.

The Uruguayan Riviera
February 19–25, 2027
7 days / 6 nights
Montevideo (Sofitel Carrasco) → José Ignacio (Bahía Vik)
Twelve guests
Hosted by Liz Caskey

We’d love to have you at the table. Please Contact Us for the detailed itinerary and to reserve your place.

The post The Uruguayan Riviera — February 2027 appeared first on Liz Caskey Culinary and Wine Experiences.

From my air-conditioned perch inside a picturesque bar in Cartagena, I have a view of the San Pedro de Claver church, made of golden coral stone and heavy wooden doors where many passersby stop to snap photos. The plaza just outside is surrounded by white and ochre-toned colonial buildings with carved balconies where the palanqueras wait, draped in jewel-toned ruffles with a bowl of tropical fruit balanced on their heads. I can hear the clip-clop of a carriage coming, such a familiar sound in the walled city, and traditional mode of transport.

I am snapped back into the present moment as a freshly mixed daiquiri is placed in front of me by Juan, the owner and master mixologist. “The daiquiri,” he explains, “exemplifies balance. A perfectly balanced daiquiri has the tartness of fresh lime juice, the sweetness of sugar and the tropical flavors of rum. Without any of these ingredients, the cocktail would simply not work.”

While I am not usually a daiquiri drinker, he explains that it’s a ‘trinity cocktail,’ the same as a negroni (hands down my favorite!), and if that’s the case, I can be convinced…plus it is way more Cartagena in vibe.

One of our brave guests volunteers to get behind the bar to mix up a signature cocktail under the bartender’s guidance. The bar is already quite cozy so the illuminated rows of dehydrated-fruit-infused spirits, house-made bitters, and botanical infusions, give it an apothecary-meets-speakeasy ambience.

We have covered a lot of ground these past days since arriving in Cartagena. Even after many visits here, the city still feels fantastical; almost like a movie-set (except it’s not): the ornate bougainvillea climbing the facades, the imposing walls of the fortress and its heavy cannons, vendors hawking freshly squeezed limonada to beat the heat under the palms, looking up to see a sloth sleeping peacefully in a magnolia tree, the never-ending murmur of salsa drifting out of open windows. Then there’s the constant sea breeze, and view, if you climb up on the walls or find a rooftop terrace.

Cartagena also has this yin-yang pull where you need nature to counter the city’s intensity. Earlier that day, we sailed out to the Rosario islands and the Baru peninsula where the crystal-clear turquoise Caribbean Sea appeared. We snorkeled, swam, sunbathed on a swath of golden sand, had massages on the beach and ate fresh lobster for lunch. It was paradise…

I am roused out of my daydreaming (again) by Juan who says,

“Ya te toca Liz!”

My turn at the bar?? I am usually the one drinking, not mixing…but…¿por qué no?

“What cocktail do you want to make? Penicillin or Sex on the Beach?”

I take a moment to consider my options. Well, besides being allergic to actual penicillin, I also have an aversion to whiskey. Sex on the beach seems very 1980s Miami Beach although fitting, or at least this city seduces me every single time. Let’s go with that…

I make my way behind the bar to the mise en place where the bartender points to everything I will need to pull this off, minus a dose of confidence that I have to find on my own.

I measure out the chilled vodka into the jigger, followed by smaller portions of peach schnapps, cranberry juice, and a chaser of orange juice. I add the ice into the shaker and seal it. Now comes the tricky part, and fun – the shaking. I channel my best version of Tom Cruise in Cocktail and with a firm, two-handed grip, go for it. This is actually harder than it looks (requires using my biceps). It takes a few seconds to find a rhythm as Juan coaches me from the other side of the bar. I need to maintain it for at least another 10 seconds to get the right dilution and temperature.

I fight to open the shaker – the seal is tight! The bartender arranges glasses in front of me and I strain the liquid, which is the color of a sunset, and place an orange peel and maraschino cherry on top. Just as the name promised, that was entertaining. Tonight is already our last night, how sad!, so we raise our glasses to cheer all the good times we have had in Cartagena, and Colombia, over this past week.

That’s the onda though in Cartagena. Fun. Playful. Lighthearted. And joyful. So much joy! I think Colombia’s cocktail culture is really symbolic of her energy. You fill your glass with (liquid) joy, then drink it, too.

Our upcoming trip to Colombia is from March 19-26, 2026, for more information on the trip contact us here to speak with our team

The post Where Joy is Shaken and Poured …Cartagena appeared first on Liz Caskey Culinary and Wine Experiences.

I have a big smile on my face as my toes dig into the warm sand–I am in my happy place.

Gauging from the sun in the sky, it’s late afternoon, but I am far from concerned about the time at this precise moment. My husband, looking extremely tan and very handsome in his white linen shirt, pours me another glass of Albariño as we wait for our lunch to appear. We are in no rush though. It’s quite the scene, and we are quite content to sit here for hours drinking wine on the beach and taking it all in.

We are at La Huella, in José Ignacio, Uruguay, quite possibly my favorite restaurant in the world, which I have been visiting, and going on and on about ad nauseam, for over a decade, ha! Seriously though, it’s a place if you ask me where I would tele-transport myself in a heartbeat, this would be it.

José Ignacio sits on a small peninsula jutting out into the ocean, surrounded on three sides by beaches that capture the sun and waves from sunrise to sunset. It’s also the definition of rustic elegance in these latitudes, very much the Riviera of South America.

Lunch at La Huella feels like arriving at the heart of this chic yet very laid back beach village east of Punta del Este. From the outside, it appears to be little more more than a shack with its canvas tarps flapping in the south Atlantic breeze. In fact, the owners say, “We serve simple beach food.” However, as soon as you enter, you realize this is anything but ‘simple’; something very special is going on here. You can feel it.

While we came sporting our flagship white linen, many families came straight off the beach clad in swimsuits and flip-flops with their pets and/or kids in tow. However casual La Huella may seem at first glance, there is an understated, elegant onda going on. From lunchtime to late in the evening, the DJ, the hum of conversation in multiple languages, and the ever-present sounds of the waves crashing on Playa Brava blend together in this forever-packed locale.

We spot our server across the tables in his head-to-toe Lacoste uniform gracefully weaving from the grill, through the mayhem, towards us with a platter of still-sizzling chiparones and grilled octopus (our standing order in addition to the burrata-heirloom tomato salad). Having now kicked the first bottle of Albariño, obviamente, we ordered another…this time a favorite Riesling from Bodega Bouza made in the same Maldonado province where José Ignacio sits. We dig into our meal. The food is simple, elemental, flawlessly prepared, and divino.

La Huella is about more than food though…es un lugar de encuentro…it is a place to come together, see and be seen, catch up, run into new friends / old friends / neighbors, grab a bite or a drink when in town on any day, at any time of the day, or at least after 12pm till 12am, or so. It channels a vibe, a state of being, a feeling…one that Uruguay embodies so well.

That ‘state’ is all about being descontraturado…relaxed, open, come-as-you-are. There’s something exquisite in how the rusticity of the countryside and the wildness of the sea mingle together that creates this understated aesthetic that carries through everything there. It pulls you in. It invites you to linger as long as you can…or at least until the wine is gone!

This vibe, the DNA of La Huella, José Ignacio, and Uruguay is indescribable until you go and know it first hand; then you will never forget it…and it will call you back to return to it again…and again…

Perhaps in 2026, it’s time to discover Uruguay??

We will be dining at La Huella on our upcoming trip to Uruguay from February 13-19, 2026. Click here for more information on the trip; or here to speak with our team

The post A Love Letter to La Huella (and Uruguay)… appeared first on Liz Caskey Culinary and Wine Experiences.

In this episode of ‘In Search of Flavor,’ Liz chats with renowned wine writer and wine editor of Food & Wine Magazine, Ray Isle, to discuss his recent book “The World in a Wine Glass” and his journey from academia to becoming a prominent figure in wine journalism. Ray shares his insights on sustainable, organic, and biodynamic wine practices, the evolving wine industry, and the timeless appeal of wine amidst modern challenges such as cocktails and cannabis. He discusses the emphasis on quality over mass production and the cultural importance of wine and offers some insights as to how consumers can start to understand the difference between organic, biodynamic, natural and terroir wines.Ray also highlights storytelling in wine writing and the significance of knowing your wine producers.

In this episode we talk about:

• From Academia to Wine Writing
• Evolution of Wine at Food & Wine Magazine
• The Inspiration Behind ‘The World in a Wine Glass’
• Understanding Sustainable Wine Terminology
• How He Chose the Wine Producers in ‘The World in a Wine Glass’
• The Human Element & Storytelling in Winemaking
• Exploring Emerging Wine Regions around the world (ie not Italy or France)
• The Future of Wine and Its Challenges
• Finding and Enjoying Affordable Quality Wines, some tips!
• What’s Next for Ray

Resources:
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rayisle/

Websites: https://www.foodandwine.com/author/ray-isle
https://rayisle.com/

The post IN SEARCH OF FLAVOR, EPISODE 40: Ray Isle on Sustainability & The Human Element in Wine appeared first on Liz Caskey Culinary and Wine Experiences.

Beyond viticulture, Napa Valley is all about its farm-to-table cuisine, luxury resorts, and outdoor activities. Dating back to the 1830s, though, Napa feels a bit like Mediterranean Chile, Tuscany, and very California.

And while Napa is most certainly very much about wine, there are many other things happening!! Given the millions of visitors coming, we thought we’d share a local foodie/somm’s POV since these tips may serve you. Vamos….let’s go…

#1 Pick your season wisely
We cannot emphasize this enough. Napa Valley receives millions of visitors each year and the majority are during summer and harvest in the fall. For the record…summer is the hottest time to visit and HARVEST IS THE WORST TIME OF YEAR TO VISIT. It’s fire season, winemakers are not available (umm, they have to harvest), everything is slammed with visitors, restaurants are collapsed. Moral of the story–come off-season or shoulder season. I love winter, particularly February-March when the mustard is in bloom up until Spring before Memorial Day. Napa is also gorgeous after harvest in early November when the vineyards change color. It depends on what you envision doing, if you want to be cozy or outdoorsy.

#2 Pick your days of the week even more wisely
Weekends in Napa…they sound super sexy, while logistically they tend to be a nightmare. Why??? We have San Francisco and Silicon Valley in two hours driving distance and LA/SoCal a short flight away. The lure is real. Many of the best vintners/wineries don’t open on the weekend or at least nobody on the winemaking team is around (yes, they have lives). The competition for restaurant reservations is fierce (along with the open wineries and any spa appointments at your luxury hotels). And just when you think you escaped the city for the peaceful countryside, be prepared for the worst traffic. I remember that time before the weekend dinner rush near Yountville…45 minutes in a total standstill in the middle of seemingly nowhere. Buck the trend here, friends, and do what everyone else doesn’t do–book your stay from Monday-Thursday and you’ll be in travel nirvana.

#3 Pick your base in the Valley carefully
Napa is like a bowling alley 30-odd miles long between two mountain ranges, the Mayacamas and the Vaca Mountains. There are basically two ways to get up (and down) the Valley–on Route 29 or the Silverado Trail. Both are (mostly) single lane roads and somewhat windy (particularly Silverado). Many people don’t realize that getting from Napa (town) up to Calistoga is 45 minutes on an easy traffic day. Or that Calistoga, where hotels like Solage, Auberge, Meadowwood and the Four Seasons are located, is closer to Healdsburg (foodie capital of Sonoma) than Napa. Likewise, if you base in southern Carneros where the newish Auberge (Stanly Ranch) opened, you will be closer to San Francisco (great for transfers in/out), Sonoma (town), and less trafficked parts of the valley like Coombsville (AMAZING appellation) and Mt. Veeder. Which brings me to the next point…

#4 Yountville is touristy although well-located
You can love me or hate me for this comment…it’s real. Yountville is built for hospitality and as a town has gone from a local village to one being centered around swanky hotels and fine dining. In fact, they had to close the elementary school due to lack of students. Now I’m not saying it’s not adorable, cute, charming, or that I don’t love walking through the French Laundry gardens, having margaritas at Thomas Keller’s taco joint, or getting croissants at dawn at Bouchon Bakery and watching the hot air balloons take off…because it is ALL that. However, the focus has clearly moved to visitors because of its strategic position mid-valley. It simply does not have the authentic feel of towns like St. Helena, downtown Napa, or even Calistoga. Just know if you go and embrace the luxe, resort(y) vibe if you decide to base there.

#5 Get a driver
Former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi’s husband got a DUI in Napa last year and I thought the behavior was inexcusable–and unfortunately common on many weekends here. People, if you are going to taste wine in any form and don’t plan on spitting ALL OF IT, either have a designated driver or get a paid driver (ahem, chauffeur). Period. End of story.

#5 Book everything FAR IN ADVANCE
Napa is popular even if you adhere to the off-season and mid-week rules so successful planning means having all your dining and wine tasting ducks in order months in advance. If you are trying to have milestone meals at The French Laundry and/or Kenzo, both Michelin star experiences, first get the dinner reservation(s) secured and THEN plan the rest of your trip–this includes hotel and air. This is the only way to avoid getting everything lined up and then finding out reservations are impossible and no amount of string-pulling will work. Both TFL & Kenzo open reservations on the first of the month for the following month at 9am local time and release only a handful of tables. Imagine everyone jockeying for those few tables. You need to have a clear date (remember mid-week = better probability), a calendar reminder, your credit card memorized, and all cookies/cache cleared on your computer to be on your top booking game…and even then, say a little prayer.

#6 Here are a few of our favorite things to do living here
–A sunny warm spring / summer lunch (or early dinner) on the terrace surrounded by vineyards at Don Giovanni Bistro. Favorites are octopus salad and burrata pizza although everything is tasty.

–Stroll the riverwalk in downtown Napa (yes there is a river! And a boat dock!) and stop at Angele for a simple, classy French meal with champagne, or taste some valley wines at Compline restaurant (warning: the duck fat fries are evil).

–Take a hike in the tucked away Westwood Hills in the Brown’s Valley area to get an eagle’s view of Napa. At the top, you can see the whole way to the San Pablo Bay and even San Francisco on a clear day.

–The big Farmer Market day is Saturday. Some days we go to Oxbow for a sweet treat (me, an almond milk latte thanks) at Model Bakery; others we just shop for produce and let the kids get doughnuts (just look for the 40-person deep line).

–Walk Main Street St. Helena. It’s Americana chic and cuteness at its finest. I love Acres concept store for fun home, tableware, and kitchen items, No|Ma for a stylish coffee, Cook for a low key pasta lunch. You can stop for to-go coffee in the retro Gas Station (or just take selfies for Instagram). Nearby Sunshine Foods is like a gourmet Napa/Sonoma-centric version of Whole Foods and super local (you may run into local winemakers in the aisles). Your foodie mind will be blown!

-Put on your favorite tunes and take the back roads to Sonoma TOWN via Old Sonoma road to route 12, which is only fifteen minutes from Napa TOWN. The rolling hills studded with vines are so scenic. If you have kids, spend a morning at the old school Traintown (get there early), stop by the original (and still very cute) Williams & Sonoma shop (if you have a thing for iconic kitchen stores…), have a spectacular farm-to-table brunch at Valley on the town square, or if you are itching for authentic Mexican (i.e. mole), El Molino is your spot..

I can go on about the food trucks, more walks with views (Stanly Lane, Skyline park, Alston Park), my favorite scenic drives into the hills (Oakville Grade not for the faint of heart), where to soak in a mud bath, why I find Gott’s Roadside ho-hum and oh, winery visits…right…WINE. That’s the whole point??!! Well, kinda. You see, Napa has lots of things that are NOT JUST WINE!

Friends, there are too many wineries to even start in this note. It’s taken time to understand the terroir, the producers, and hone those which are worth visiting, many of which are small and not your usual suspects nor experiences, or at least the way we like to set things up.

As you can see, local Napa does exist if you scratch deeper. An entire wine industry and the communities that support are based here. It’s a beautiful place to call home. If you need our help curating a special trip or milestone celebration to the region, or procuring those hard to get visits (Harlan, Colgin, etc.…), contact us to make it happen.

Need more inspiration? We also did a podcast earlier this year which you can listen HERE.

The post A Local’s Guide to Visiting Napa appeared first on Liz Caskey Culinary and Wine Experiences.

We dig into that in this episode. Travel provides the ultimate opportunity to get out of your comfort zone and challenge yourself. From immersing yourself in a new culture and language to confronting travel hassles, ‘scary’ adventure activities that awaken bravery, or swallowing your ego to become a student again and learn a new skill, the willingness to be vulnerable and adopt a growth mindset is key.

We also discuss how travel sharpens your people skills, makes you more present, and helps you cultivate embracing change and uncertainty when it inevitably comes your way.

The post IN SEARCH OF FLAVOR, EPISODE 39: Getting Out of Your Comfort Zone through Travel appeared first on Liz Caskey Culinary and Wine Experiences.

In this episode we talk about:

• Family history dating back to grandfather establishing winery in Mendoza in 1960s
• The inspiration to focus on high elevation sites like Altamira, La Consulta, Gualtallary
• Understanding the valley’s geology, altitude impacts creating distinct terroir identities
• How he developed Zuccardi’s non-interventionist approach allowing transparent expression of place using concrete
eggs vs. steel to showcase vineyard character
• Why soil mapping via calicatas provides key viticultural insights and how clonal selection and varieties are
suited to high elevation, like chardonnay
• The impetus to make his own Vermouth with a group of friends, which revived theArgentine vermouth tradition
• Zuccardi’s dedication to wine tourism on a larger scale in Mendoza and the Uco Valley
• What the future holds for Argentina, Malbec, wine, and the next generation

Resources:

Instagram: @zuccardivalledeuco
@szuccardi

Website: https://zuccardiwines.com/en/

The post IN SEARCH OF FLAVOR, EPISODE 38: Seba Zuccardi on the Rise of Uco Valley Wines appeared first on Liz Caskey Culinary and Wine Experiences.

Soil is life. Without it, we cannot sustain ourselves on Earth. We are losing it, poisoning it, chopping it up with tilling, and with it, depleting the fungi which are integral to it, an intricate system, a web, that connects the plants, micro-organisms, digests carbon dioxide, and so much more. In this re-release of Episode 13, we learn about the world of fungi with one of Chile’s foremost experts, Guiliana Furci, to understand this area of the plant kingdom and how it touches every corner of our lives.

Giuliana is the director of Fundación Fungi and one of the most notable promoters of the Fungi Kingdom. Her dedication to fungi has helped make Chile the first country in the world to include the Fungi Kingdom in its General Environmental Law, which is essential for the study, protection and recognition of a species. Giuliana and I discuss the importance of fungi, its staggering diversity, and how it naturally seeks harmony to work with ecosystems.

I also share how the newly released documentary Common Ground, tied together this conversation around regenerative farms and the soil, the future of our ecosystems, and climate change in a way no other film has.

In this episode we talk about:

• How Giuliana was “chosen” by the world of fungi
• The “3F’s” & basics of the Fungi Kingdom & the role fungi plays in sustaining life
• The development of Chilean mycology and the uniqueness of Chilean fungi. The lonely road that was studying
Chilean fungi at first and why Chile is classified as a “mycro-phobic” country despite being a fungi hotspot!
• How co-evolution with fungi have led to fungi with medicinal properties
• The process of looking for fungi for particular purposes – medicinal, pesticides, — and how their co-evolution with animals have led to groundbreaking discoveries
• The Fungi Foundation
• Why everyone should see the newly-released documentary ‘Common Ground’, currently in theaters (as of March 2024)

Resources:

Common Ground Documentary

Field Guides to Chilean Fungi

Fundacion Fungi

Fundacion Fungi Donation Page

Fantastic Fungi Documentary

@giulifungi

@fungi_foundation

@commongroundfilm

The post In Search of Flavor, EPISODE 37: How Fungi & Regenerative Farming Can Save Us (Re-release of Episode 13 with Guiliana Furci) appeared first on Liz Caskey Culinary and Wine Experiences.

Shouldn’t your face cream be as clean as the food you put in your body? Ideally yes, but it’s not always the case. In today’s episode, Emily Yeston, co-founder of Doré, joins us to talk about clean skincare and how her company is bringing that to French pharmacy staples in a safe way. Emily discusses her journey transitioning from digital media into the beauty industry with her French business partner Garance Doré and how her own skin challenges inspired her to create effective yet gentle skincare products. She delves into the formulation process, providing insights into common problematic ingredients and how Doré formulates with safety and efficacy in mind. Most importantly, the results speak for themselves. Much like seeking out authenticity and terroir in a fine wine, Doré takes the same approach to clean eating–for your face, which ultimately leads to a glowy complexion.

In this episode we talk about:

• Emily’s background and how she transitioned from media to skincare with her French business partner, Garance
Doré
• The origin of French pharmacy skincare and how Doré set out to modernize it
• Why origin and source of ingredients matter in skin care & how she & Garance formulated their products to be
clean
• A breakdown of the big difference between EU & US ingredient safety and why Doré defers to the EU
• Travel hacks to keep your skin healthy and glowing while in transit

Resources:
Instagram: @Doré, @em_note @garancedore
Website: www.wearedore.com
Get 10% off your order with Doré: click here.

The post In Search of Flavor, Episode 35: Emily Yeston of Doré on French Clean Skincare appeared first on Liz Caskey Culinary and Wine Experiences.