Watching Octavio Becerra and his staff work on a busy Saturday night at his new restaurant, Palate, is like watching a live interactive theatrical extravaganza with the “audience” participation taken to an exponential level.  As with any live performance, there is much prep before the show begins—rehearsals, test audiences, script revisions-- but none of the work shows on the faces of the talent as the “curtain goes up.”  Octavio and his staff all look excited for whatever the night might bring, eager to present their newest work, and fully aware that the development of their craft is a process—a process they clearly enjoy.  When the first patrons arrive, the marathon of effort, skill and artistry begins—with some pinch-hitting and compromise thrown into the challenge. 

I have known Octavio Becerra for seven years.  He personally cooked the two best meals of my life in a whirlwind of creative energy after a morning at his favorite outdoor markets.  Friends pitched in, some of them chefs, some of them just eager for the privilege to participate.  Privilege it is.  Octavio’s home kitchen is his laboratory, his rehearsal space; it is where his art form is honed and where he stretches his wings and experiments. I think there is a strong connection between cooking and love.  When a great chef has the opportunity to cook in a space he loves for people he loves, the cooking surpasses great and becomes divine.  I have experienced that divine in Octavio’s home when he worked for other restaurateurs.  But now Octavio has his own home, Palate, and if you go there, he will cook for you too.

On Saturday night he was on stage and we had an exquisite meal complimented by some of the select wines he sells in the wine shop and tasting room adjacent to his gorgeous new venue that is a perfect marriage of classic French and modern California décor.  We started dinner with a fine rosé, 2007 Chateau Mourgues du Gres Rosé Fleur d’Eglantine and some delicately home churned butter which was presented to the table with tiny shaved radishes and is a work of art.

A plate of charcuterie followed, along with some pickled fruits that were divine, and a fabulous little pot of chicken pate which my seven-year-old son, Jesse, adored.  This course was accompanied by a 2004 Chateau Grillet, rich and mouthfilling but with good cut.

We tasted their 2002 Javillier Savigny-les-Beaunes Montchenevoy, a light, lemony Chardonnay and could not stop ourselves (heresy at this point in our meal!) from trying the gorgeous selection of cheeses from their dedicated cheese cellar.

Waiting for the main course to come, we tried the excellent 2006 Cross Oakville Cab, a tannic monster reminiscent of the early 80’s cabs.

I haven’t had a good rabbit dish since I spent the summer of 1976 in St. Amant Tallende, but Palate’s DG (Devils Gulch) Rabbit with stone ground grits and concord grapes was extraordinary both in flavor and in presentation.  Like petite sculptures on the plate, each morcel was a discrete design.  With the rabbit, Palate’s brilliant and kind wine director, Steve Goldun, poured a 2005 Thevenin Beaune 1er Cru Cent Vignes. Value Burgundy with hints of roasted strawberry.

My husband had the Risotto Special, with,dungeness crab and tiger tomatoes.  A big fan of risotto, Randy was enchanted by the subtlety of a dish that can be heavy and monotonous in the hands of a less experienced kitchen.  But the highlight of the meal was the Asparagus with duck egg, and lemon - brown butter which blew us away and which I have since had dreams about.  And also the Vegetables in Papillote which was clean and simple but magnificent.

Stuffed, we still managed to devour the dessert, Valrohna Chocolate Pudding, served in a cup with a dollop of whip cream on top sprinkled with fleur de sel.  And our final glass of the evening: 2006 Schoffit Gewurztraminer Grand Cru Harth Cuvée Caroline which was fruity and flinty.

The miracle of Palate is that anyone can now enjoy the cooking and love that is the artistry of Octavio Becerra and his team.  But I suggest you hustle over there because when the word gets it, it is going to be mighty hard to get a table.

As I fly up to Napa for the premiere of my new film BOTTLE SHOCK, I think of all the local people that I want to thank tomorrow night.  I am talking about hundreds of people, many of whom will be there to celebrate with me.  Because this is a film about the world’s awakening to the bounty of Napa, many local vintners were instrumental in helping pull off this movie.  My thank you’s begin with the generous folks at Chateau Montelena, around whom the film is centered.  Their triumphant victory over the French is, to this day, one of the most important historical events in the history of Napa.  We shot at Chateau Montelena up in Calistoga during harvest season.  Having a movie crew move in at the busiest time of their year was wholly inconvenient, but not only were the Barretts hospitable, they were great advisors to us in addressing the history and workings of the vineyard.

I also thank the folks at Buena Vista, a breathtaking winery in Carneros, where we shot many days in and around the vines.  This is where we built Sam’s house, a little cabin that Rachael Taylor’s character inhabits, that is situated on one of the most exquisite knolls imaginable.  Marcia Kunde and Don Chase of Kunde Estates Winery opened their arms to us and permitted us to shoot in some of the most precious and secret parts of their gorgeous vineyard.  It is here that we built the boxing ring situated so stunningly between hills of vines that roll off into blood red horizons.  And we owe them many thanks. 

I thank Gustavo Brambila for sharing his story and his wine.

I thank Bruce Cohn of B.R. Cohn Vineyards (situated just across the way from Kunde) for granting us the rights to use 4 Doobie Brothers tracks in the movie. 

I thank the local crew and the local cast whose faces I’ve come to know so well in the editing room.

I thank Lori Harrison of Viansa Winery for throwing us such an amazing wrap party and for pouring that fabulous Samuele.

I thank Della Santina and all of East Napa Street, Enoteca, Chantelier’s Bookstore, the Ledson Hotel, Toscano Hotel, and the Swiss hotel for opening their doors to filming.

I thank The Lodge at Sonoma and Stay Sonoma for housing all of us during the busiest tourist season of the year.

I thank Gundlach Bundschu, Freemark Abbey, Heitz, Acme Fine Wines, Gustavo Thrace and Clos du Val for their generosity and their fine wine. 

I thank Mike Robbins for the tales he told. 

I thank Brenda and Marc Lhormer of the Sonoma Valley for bringing this project to us.

I thank the people of Sonoma, Glen Ellen, Napa and Calistoga for graciously putting up with the interference that a movie shoot always causes.

I thank the Oakville Grocery for its great sandwiches.

BOTTLE SHOCK opens August 6th in select cities, then rolls out across the country on the 15th.
 

There are a lot of people who go to Sonoma, Napa, Calistoga, and Carneros to drink wine and dine extravagantly.  We ourselves have enjoyed some very fine meals at Farm, The Girl and The Fig, Harvest Moon, Carneros Bistro, Della Santina, and Cuvee Napa.  But what makes our mouths water when we think of the Napa Valley is the wonderful availability of amazing sandwiches.

I mentioned before how much I loved the sandwiches at The Fig Pantry.  Sadly, the Fig is closed now.  Apparently someone drove a car, by accident I am told, right through the front of the building, decimating the deli.  That wonderful deli with its scrumptious Fig Salad and Portobello Mushroom Goat Cheese Sandwich is now gone.  I am told that its owner, Sondra Bernstein, has decided not to re-open in the same location.  I am told she is looking for another property.  I can only hope she will bring back the amazing sandwiches my whole crew enjoyed all last summer. 

But don’t despair.  My husband and partner, Randall Miller, will argue that the best Napa Valley sandwiches are to be found at the Oakville Grocery.  Many a location scout last summer made its obligatory stop at the Oakville Grocery so Randy could get one of their fabulous sandwiches.  His favorite is The House Roast Turkey & Pesto Mayo (with Provolone, leaf lettuce and tomato on herbed focaccia).  But I will tell you, their Roast Beef & Blue (blue cheese spread, tomato, red onion & leaf lettuce on a baguette) is awesome.  The Oakville is a bustling place with lots of little tidbits and samples one can munch on while waiting in line.  It has an upscale country atmosphere and a lot more than sandwiches to offer.

My son, Jesse, a true sandwich aficionado, will tell you that his favorite Napa sandwich can be found at the deli at the Sonoma Market or its sister market in Glen Ellen, the Glen Ellen Village Market.  At either of these markets, the deli offers panini’s that can’t be beat.  Jesse is happy with either the Baked Turkey or the Prosciutto & Brie Panini, especially when he can have a little of their fresh cole slaw on the side.

Some other great sandwiches worth mentioning are the feed-your-whole-family-and-some-of-the-neighbors-too enormous sandwiches at the Broadway Deli in Sonoma.  The Broadway Deli is a down-to-earth establishment with reasonable prices and fresh ingredients.  If you don’t want to feed your whole family and some of the neighbors too, you can just get a fresh and tasty sandwich for one and eat it yourself. 

The Sonoma Cheese Factory, which has a generous offering of fine and varied cheeses, makes wonderful sandwiches too.  And it is conveniently located right on The Plaza in downtown Sonoma where we shot many scenes of BOTTLE SHOCK.

In June of 2007, with the script for BOTTLE SHOCK still something of a work-in-progress, and Alan Rickman committed to play Steven Spurrier, we got a hitch put on the back of our old family car and rented a U-Haul trailer, loaded it up and headed north to Sonoma where this movie was either going to come together or fall apart.  With us came our son, Jesse (6), our daughter Maya (4) and our mutt Tilly (12ish) along with bicycles, sketch pads, dolls, painting supplies, Lego’s, and all the computer and editorial equipment from our home production office.

In Sonoma, we rented a small country house a mile and a half from the town square and were surrounded by chickens and cows and roosters and horses, ostriches and goats and peacocks, snakes and sheep and great golden fields that unfurled like a tidal sigh before oceanic sunsets.  There was a rooster who crowed religiously at 4:00 in the morning and each one of us will independently swear to you that what he crowed was literally and phonetically “***-a-doodle-doo.” 

Our old dog Tilly was vitaminized by a newfound interest in sheep and spent many an hour perusing the perimeter of the property looking for a way to join the great roaming curiosities next door.  Interestingly, when Tilly was able to break out, the sheep, though ambivalent, did not actually reject her.

We arrived in Sonoma with a lot of work ahead of us and no plan for the kids.  But as we pulled into the town square, we saw a sign for the Sonoma Academy of Dance and Arts Summer Programs for kids.  I called the number on the sign and spoke to a young woman named Sarah Duran who runs the camp.  She explained the camp is for 7 to 11 year olds and I told her I had a 4- and a 6-years-old.  She said she’d take them.

Each week of the summer the Sonoma Academy of Dance and Arts transforms itself.  It is one week a dance camp, one week a cartooning camp.  There is a week of film production, of comedy, and one of radio broadcasting.  I signed Jesse and Maya up for everything Sarah offered.   And they loved it.  But I will never forget the week of fashion design.   I dropped the kids off early Monday morning to a wholly transformed premises. Fabrics were draped everywhere.  Sewing machines stood at the ready.  There was a lot of pink, a lot of glitter, a lot of lace, 45 girls and my ashen son, Jesse.  But to his credit, Jesse made the best of it and provided the grand finale of the week’s culminating fashion show in a magenta lined black satin magician’s cape he had sewn himself.

With the kids at camp, Randy and I set up an office in an old warehouse that had been a production line for wine bottle labels.  The office was a block from the greatest sandwich and specialty food shop on the planet earth:  The Fig Pantry.  At The Fig (as we fondly referred to it), they make the most exquisite fig sandwich compote with which they generously lather their sandwiches and the result is divine. 

We set about exploring the wine country in every possible way, searching out locations, studying the terrain, and learning about wine.  We learned about tasting and analyzing and describing wine and we learned about the history of the region and the development of a vineyard. 

Pre-production had officially started.  We worked on the script.  We bought office supplies.  We struggled with the local phone reception.  Sets were designed. We scouted the vineyards.  We struggled with the local internet reception.  We interviewed crew and auditioned local actors. We searched the area for vehicles from the seventies and moreover, French vehicles from the seventies.  Lumber was purchased and sets started to go up.  We struggled to decipher the small town politics and we fell in love with this land of the grape.

I have always been vaguely aware that there was sometime in the 70’s when my parents started drinking California wine.  Before that, they only drank French--  when anyone was looking, that is.  In fact, their little secret was a box of Almaden which they kept on top of the old fridge in the laundry room.  It had a little plastic spigot in front and held a bladder filled with red or white.  I remember it that way—as red or white, no further defining nomenclature.  That red or white wine was always poured in the laundry room and brought out to the table in glasses so that its source and pedigree were not part of the drinking experience.
 
But yes, there was a time in the 70’s when all that changed.  Suddenly there were California whites and reds in bottles that were not confined to the laundry room.  It had become interesting to drink California wine.  It had become important.  What I never knew was the story of the little tasting that happened in Paris in 1976 that unwittingly triggered a revolution:  The democratization and the globalization of the wine business.

When I heard the story, a lightbulb went off for me personally.  Because I suddenly knew what had changed my parents’ thinking about wine back in 1976. At the time I was still too young to drink—in the U.S. that is.  In France, where my mother’s sister lived, and where we often visited in the summer, wine was available to the young.  Though discouraged by my parents, somehow in Europe that discouragement was less absolute that at home in Connecticut and we, the children, sometimes had a bit of wine with  dinner.

For independent filmmakers, like Randy and myself, the choice of what movie to make next—the choice of what story to tell-- is a rather large commitment because of the sheer magnitude of effort and focus and time required to bring an indie to life.  We were not convinced we wanted to make a movie about the Paris tasting until we met  Jim and Bo Barrett of Chateau Montelena.  Self-described farmers, Jim and Bo were clearly great characters for a movie:  men with a passion, men who take big risks, perfectionists and battle weary idealists, and a father and son who have a long working history of collaboration and conflict.  Within five minutes of our initial meeting, Jim and Bo were making a serious money bet over something that eludes me now—in other words, something minor.

The life journey of Jim Barrett is also something I related to personally.  Randy and I had worked in the studio system for many years making other people’s projects, never able to get our own material off the ground.  A few years ago, we decided to change that.  So we took a loan against our house and used the money to make an independent feature, a passion project entitled MARILYN HOTCHKISS BALLROOM DANCING & CHARM SCHOOL.  It was no little risk.  We had a one-year-old and a three year old at the time and bills aplenty to pay.  But we had a dream and there was only one way we could see to make that dream a reality.

Similarly Jim Barrett had been a successful attorney in Southern California and he left it all behind in pursuit of his own artistic dream.  He wanted to make wine—fine handcrafted wine.  He too had a family and he too took enormous personal risk to get Chateau Montelena off the ground. 

Therein lies the bones of a compelling story—at least in our opinion.  A story that became historical after a little tasting in Paris in 1976.