Sideways from LA

 Today was road trip to *Sideways* day and RR took full advantage. 

If you’ve never seen the movie (let alone read the book), our two “heroes” (cough double cough) go on a journey from LA to Santa Barbara County wine country for the one’s “bachelor weekend.”  The protagonist, Miles, is an obnoxious wine-lover and they go to many places tasting wine and generally being mildly obnoxious.

We went there. 

First we stopped for Randy’s donuts.  Pictured. 

She had six different “tastes” at the place in Santa Barbara and we hustled off to real wine country — near Los Olivos, which is central to the movie, where we had a reservation for tasting #2.  There were 7 tastings there, not that anyone was counting.

It is worth noting that I was freezing sitting outside in Santa Barbara.  It was 70 with a healthy sea breeze. It was 93 and dry in Los Olivos.  I was no longer cold. :)

I went to the bathroom in Santa Barbara (I”m not going to start recounting ALL of these). Here was the poster on the wall there. 

I was unaware that Santa Barbara was the “American Riviera.”  We even walked down to the pier there and looked, and I took pictures, etc.  The American Riviera is a significant downgrade from the French one.  Just sayin’

Aside: as I sat watching people during the tasting in Santa Barbara, a BMW 3-series pulls up in front of the expensive (I looked it up, they wanted $700 for tonight, cheapest rate) and this guy, maybe 30 gets out.  He opens the trunk and pulls out a guitar bag (not a hard sided case) and comes back around and I realize that he’s wearing plaid pajama bottoms.  And a tee shirt.  We attributed it to “California.” 

Back to Los Olivos.  I had a charcuterie and cheese plate for “lunch”…and called the next place to say we were late for our appointment. 

At place #3, which was on a hillside with nice views and trees jutting through the deck boards, RR had some unknown number of tastes.  On two donuts and less than half of the charcuterie thing.  She kept saying, and I’m not making this up, that first one tree was beautiful and then that she loved it.  I was a bit worried, as I come from a long line of tree worshippers. 

We never made it to place #4.  In part because Adam, the server at place #3 (am I really supposed to remember the name of all these places that I hope I never return to; I mean, Santa Barbara County is okay, but it’s really NOT the Riviera, and the inland part isn’t the Napa Valley, or Loire Valley, or even the Finger Lakes.  

Adam was the real life equivalent of Miles.  In fact, he actually discussed Miles’s love of the pinot grape (which Miles says, and it’s true, are notoriously hard to grow, so much so that Adam admitted they couldn’t grow them on the property laying in front of us — too hot and dry).  Miles…errr, Adam, explained the microclimates of where we sat as well as those 5 miles away, in Santa Barbara and even Catalina Island (many, many miles away)…I am pretty sure he said their syrah had a bit of a back nose of broccoli.  Or words to that effect. 

We left there and visited Fess Parker’s place, famed in the movie, which we had visited in our previous visit in 2016, and then to a smaller, quainter, prettier place own the road.  

Then we were in time for our dinner res.  At a winery, of course. Food porn. 

We shared all of the above.  And something they call “mousse” for dessert which was very good but which I would NOT call mousse. Ah, well…

And I drove home, with no screams in my now deaf right ear that foretold imminent death…or a bug. 

Life is sometimes a bit sideways. 

Manana.