Dean & Deluca

What in the hell makes the high end grocery/delis of all high end grocery/delis think they can be as at home in the California countryside as they are in SoHo?  Oh, wait, that’s right, the Napa Valley is full of millionaires and tourists who throw caution – and budget – to the wind.  That said, if it is possible to do it more right than Dean & Deluca I’d love you to show me how.

During my time in the hell of a winter in New York in ‘07/’08 I used to frequently pass by the kiosk outside Dean & Deluca on Broadway in the morning and pay my requisite $7 for a cup of coffee and croissant (although I never could bring myself to pay the $2.00 for the 6oz bag of Zapps Chips, sorry Ron) passing up even the great Balthazar bakery for my morning fix. Every once in a while I’d get bold and add some lox or fruit to my breakfast and the price tag never gave pause because the presentation, the perfection of provenance, the knowledge of the staff and the quality of what was going down my gullet never did. It seems as though none of that was lost in translation from the snowy, crowded Broadway Street location in Soho to Highway 29 in St. Helena. Dean & Deluca, to put it delicately, is the shit, hombre.

A day of drinking wine up and down mountains and throwing orange balls to menacing vineyard dogs (I swear, this “Jake” at Hendry would seriously lick your foot till you fell over, thus creating the perfect perch with which to take his salivary attacks to your hands, arms and – ultimately – your face. It’s a horrible way to meet your demise, your only hope to throw the orange ball as a means of final distraction and then run for the nearest glass of wine) caused quite a hunger in me, Mrs. Bloggle and our partners in crime. So, we did the worst possible thing four foodies deep into our glasses could do – go shopping for pre-dinner snacks in a gourmet fantasy land.  Walking out with three different kinds of cured pork, four cheeses (including a -drool- truffled gouda), amazing dijon mustard, baguette, etc, etc, etc. . . .we were loaded for bear.

Now I warn you, the following photographs are NOT for the faint at heart, and I do not recommend you view them if you feel even the slightest twinge of hunger.

Snack

I think I’ve covered the topic of Dean and Deluca fairly extensively, so I’ll just let the picture of our pre-dinner “snack” speak for itself. Complete with a bottle of the Caldwell GOLD, it is worth noting that this “snack” completely derailed us for dinner.

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