Full Belly Files | My Wild Week of Travel, Tastes, and Toasts

The view of S.F. from Tunnel Tops in the Presidio

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More than 1,000 miles of driving, a dozen or so interviews, five “work” dinners, two dog-sniffed truffles, and one glitzy gala — all culminating in a memorial golf tournament (my second scramble in five days) and, then, without much surprise, the flu (or something). Welcome to a recent week of mine, the latest hurried slice of my overscheduled life as a food and drink journalist.

When I tell people that I’m working the dawn to midnight shift on trips like this, it’s not an exaggeration — sometimes, actually, it’s an understatement, like when the clock suddenly strikes 3 a.m. and you’re still talking wine, only to start running through emails a couple hours later. I hope to never lose sight that what qualifies as work for me looks like fun to everyone else, but that doesn’t make weeks like this any less exhausting, a reality that my increasing age tends to amplify.

The adventure began with an early Wednesday morning drive to Paso Robles, where I was reporting a story for Wine Enthusiast magazine that will touch on the past, present, and, most critically, the future of the region. That reporting, which involved nine two-hour interviews and two lengthy (though happily casual) dinners, started at 10 a.m. that morning and rolled into the wee hours of Thursday night.

The first dinner was hosted by Linne Calodo’s Matt Trevisan, who sous vide’d then roasted tri-tips before, when everyone else bailed, showing me his pandemic-era DIY virtual reality go-cart (didn’t work) and cutting edge flight simulator (worked all too realistically). (He also hosted me for lunch earlier, which came from the ever excellent Etto Pasta Bar.) Justin Smith brought his first bottle of Saxum Vineyards ever, the 2000 Bone Rock Syrah, so it was fitting that the 1970 bottle of Bordeaux I brought (remember this story?) happened to be his birth year.

[Click to enlarge]: From left: Thai Basil’s special shrimp dumplings; Thai Basil’s chicken satay

The next day, Jake Beckett of Peachy Canyon and I went to lunch at Basil Thai, the restaurant that’s been on the Paso Robles square for more than a dozen years. I’ve walked by it countless times over, assumed that it was a run-of-the-mill Americanized Thai restaurant, and never went in. What a mistake. In addition to the more familiar dishes, Basil Thai is awash in creative bites, and we sampled a number of both. On the standard front, the chicken satay was on point. On the special side, the shrimp dumplings were all-time.

After more interviews, dinner that night was with the extended Lone Madrone family, who was hosting me in their guest house next to the tasting room. Marci Collins, the wife of Lone Madrone founder and longtime Tablas Creek winemaker Neil Collins, slow-cooked some Tablas Creek lamb, and it was one of the most satisfying meals I’ve enjoyed in months.

A massive truffle from Presqu’ile Vineyard

I was on the road by 8 a.m. Friday morning, headed straight to a truffle hunt at Presqu’ile Vineyard. Much more on this to come, but the estate planted oak trees with truffle-innoculated roots in 2017, and came to assume the project wasn’t going to work. But then more than 20 truffles were found last year, so I came out for one of the first 2025 hunts. Within minutes, a fist-sized truffle was unearthed, followed by a smaller one a bit later. Again, more on this soon.

I rolled straight into Glen Annie Golf Club at 11:15 a.m., joining my friends for a fundraising tournament to support their son being on the San Marcos High baseball team. Tequila shots before our tee-off set us up straight, and we blasted through, finishing not last. Glen Annie always does a great banquet meal, and the tournament was one of the better organized ones that I’ve experienced.

I worked all morning Saturday writing wine reviews, skipped the Cool Water Canyon show at SOhO that night, and then was back on the road Sunday morning, driving to San Francisco for Wine Enthusiast’s 25th annual Wine Star Awards at the Westin St. Francis. For lunch, I stopped at a new taco shop in Soledad, Taco’n Madre Y Sazon Leo, and went for the El Jefe combo: carnitas, birria, and pastor. So hefty I couldn’t finish them all.

[Click to enlarge]: From left: The three taco combo at Taco’n Madre Y Sazon Leo; The menu at Taco’n Madre Y Sazon Leo in Soledad

Once settled at the Westin in San Francisco, it was dinner time with my wine mag colleagues next door at Corzetti. It’s not easy for a restaurant to appease a roomful of critics, but I was pretty happy with a number of the dishes, including the fazzoletti al pesto (the sheet-like pasta was silky) and the branzino alla Ligure, the crispy fish surrounded by olives, peppers, tomatoes, and fennel. The evening finished up in our tasting director’s hotel room, as a handful of critics from around the world blind tasted wines that we brought and made fun of each other.

This was the first Wine Star Awards I’ve ever attended where I didn’t have to give an award myself, so that freed up my Monday entirely until gala time. I walked from Union Square all the way to the Presidio, impressed, as I’ve been many times before, by how quickly San Francisco’s neighborhoods change, from rough and wild to stately and peaceful in a matter of blocks.

I’ve driven through the Presidio countless times throughout my whole life, but I don’t ever recall walking around the former fort-turned-national park. It’s really pleasant, and walking down Lover’s Lane offered a near-wilderness experience just steps away from one of the world’s most buzzing cities. Upon reaching Tunnel Tops Park, where views span from the Golden Gate and Alcatraz to the Palace of Fine Arts and Salesforce Tower, I vowed to bring my family back during our next NorCal visit.

Following the advice of my tech journalist friend, I hopped in a Waymo, the driverless car service, for my first time ever. I took some video, popped some pics, and even called my wife and mom to report on the experience. Then I settled in, and realized that I felt way more comfortable with a robot driving than I do with occasionally sketchy Uber drivers. Also, I don’t mind chit-chatting, but there’s not even the need to pretend to be nice in a Waymo. It’s also cheaper. I took it again later.

For Monday lunch, I met with two of my best friends from high school in San Jose and we went to Dumpling Story in the Mission District. It was just what we wanted, from the classic soup dumplings to the pan-fried juicy pork bao, whose bottoms are crisped up while the tops stay floppy. There are instructions on the wall on how to not burn your mouth while eating the liquid-filled treats, and we avoided that. But at least two of us managed to squirt the juice across the table, so they may need to amend the poster a bit.

The evening’s Wine Star Awards rolled on without a hitch, with about 600 tuxedo’d and ballgown’d attendees enjoying drinks and dinner as the world’s most important wine professionals were feted on stage. Since I didn’t have to worry about presenting, I actually had an appetite and was able to chat it up with my table mates, including Austin and Celeste Hope of Hope Family Wines, Joel Peterson of the Paso Robles Wine Alliance, Stacie Jacobs of Solterra Strategies, and, sitting right next to me, George Soleas, the president of the Liquor Control Board of Ontario. According to Soleas, his org buys more alcohol than any other entity on the planet each year, which I found to be a worthy claim.

[Click to enlarge]: From left: Matt doing his best James Bond impression; Dessert time at the 25th annual Wine Star Awards; Wine critics late night tasting session

There was an afterparty atop the Westin, and then I was roused to go hang with my critic colleagues again, which we did till 3 a.m. Come morning, I needed a real breakfast, and wandered into the last countertop seat at the Pinecrest Diner, forking down the Spanish omelette while reading my own magazine article about tasting sagebrush in your wine.

[Click to enlarge]: From left: The Potter’s trophy; Post-gala breakfast at Pinecrest Diner

It was a long five-plus hour drive home that day, and I made it just in time for a White Buffalo Land Trust meeting downtown. I had to be at Sandpiper Golf Course by 7 a.m. the next morning to co-host the inaugural Chris Potter Memorial Golf Tournament, where more than 30 golfers gathered to celebrate the life of our artist friend who died a year ago. After golf, we retreated to Goleta Beach for Big Joe’s Tacos and the award ceremony. (The chefs team won: Peter Lee of Secret Bao, Jerry Lee of Empty Bowl, and Peter McNee of Convivo, with former Goleta city council candidate Ethan Woodill as their fourth.)

That night, as I sat on the couch, happy to finally be home with no big plans for a few days, a slight cough started in my chest. I’d spend most of the next three days in bed and quarantined to my bedroom with what seemed to be the flu. It wasn’t too bad, thankfully, and given all that had transpired in the prior week, it was about the best timed sickness of my life.

From Our Table

Group shot at the Firestone Walker Invitational Beer Festival | Photo: Courtesy

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