The French Laundry set the standard for fine dining in the United States when Thomas Keller acquired the locavore restaurant in the Napa Valley back in 1994. In many ways, Keller's rise represents the dawn of contemporary fine dining in America, and the significance of his work done at the Laundry is difficult to overstate.
These days, while still a formidable temple of fine dining, the French Laundry has lost a bit of its sheen––while still producing exceptional food, some critics and patrons contend that the restaurant has become a bit stale and that other destination dining establishments, such as SingleThread in nearby Healdsburg, now hold the crown for California wine country cuisine.
The pandemic had a profound effect on the business models and bottom lines of California wineries and restaurants, and evolving economic conditions and tastes have spelled doom for many producers and dining rooms operating on the margins. The fires haven't helped––after Chris Kostow's three Michelin–starred restaurant at Meadowood burned down, with little sign of progress on its return, there haven't been many new and exciting players in the Napa dining scene, now seen as a bit stuffier in order to cater to the boomer, hyper-extracted cabernet–loving crowd downing bottles of wines that might as well be maple syrup at Alpha Omega or Beaulieu.
It's in this context that Auro, one of the latest openings in Napa Valley, is so exciting. Calistoga, the furthest north of the Napa Valley communities, is one of the sleepier Napa towns with more of a local vibe, and the surrounding vineyards only got a separate AVA in 2010. In an effort to drive winery tourism traffic up to the north end of the valley, resorts like the new Four Seasons have invested heavily in premium guest experiences, and there hasn't been an opening like Auro in Napa for some time (and certainly not in Calistoga!).
But what makes Auro so fresh is it doesn't feel like "just another" Napa Valley, locavore Californian cuisine, tasting menu–only restaurant. Chef Rogelio Garcia, born in Mexico City and raised in Napa, brings his extensive experience working in the finest kitchens in northern California, including the French Laundry, to his locally- and seasonally-driven food, to which he often adds shades of his Mexican heritage to make it even more exciting. Indeed, his superlative work earned Auro a Michelin star within eight months of opening, and I would be wholly unsurprised to see it become California's next three-star destination.
It's difficult to find dining companions who share my willingness to drop a significant chunk of their paycheck on a multi hundred–dollar meal, but my buddy Cole, also a denizen of the wine industry, finally gave in, and we got all dressed up and met at the Four Seasons on a rainy spring evening to see what all the buzz was about.
To get to Auro, you have to make your way through the hotel's more casual restaurant to a smaller room that, besides the wine cellar and panoramic look at the gleaming kitchen, sort of had the charm and intimacy of a Holiday Inn breakfast room. Still, the space was airy and Napa Valley–elegant, and would eventually fill up with excited diners.
But before you even enter the dining room, the congenial sommelier, Derek Stevenson, greets you with a glass of Mirabelle Brut from Napa Valley bubbly producer Schramsberg, singing with apples and anchored by honey and vanilla, to activate the palate. Alongside, a tiny gougère was the first nibble of the meal.
The menu has already endured a few unfortunate and significant price hikes in the time since Auro has been open, but the luxury of the ingredients and echelon of the food still make this among the best "bang for your buck" tasting menus in the Bay Area. Cole and I both went for the wine pairing (duh) and added the two supplemental dishes, and it was off to the races.
A smörgåsbord of amuse bouche bites came quickly from the kitchen, in a presentation that reminded me somewhat of SingleThread's welcome spread, albeit minus the greenery. The Mexican influence was visible right away––tiny sopes topped with minced kimchi and bluefin tuna were the first bite, followed by an octopus fritter with spicy yogurt, ora king salmon on a brassica leaf with sweet mustard, tiny whole Hakurei turnips from their garden with tangy buffalo milk cheese, and an egg filled with Mexican chocolate and orange "nog." Each was impressive, though the sweet egg was a bit of an interloper and might have belonged in the dessert bites.
Our unanimous favorite, however, was an impossibly light oyster cracker topped with a slice of A5 wagyu, adhered together with smoked crème fraîche and garnished with a healthy dollop of sturgeon roe. Sublime.
We visited during the tail end of Dungeness crab season in the Bay, and the first course would feature the local crustacean. First, though, Derek offered us a pour of gorgeously aromatic and complex Alsatian grand cru Riesling from Schlumberger. Riesling is always a good way to start a pairing slate, and this was brilliant with the first two seafood courses.
A plump piece of Dungeness meat sat perched on a puck of compressed Koshihikari rice, some of the most fantastic short grain rice in the world. The key to the dish, however, and another flash of Chef's Mexican heritage, was a tangy and piquant mojo sauce made with local green garlic. A fantastic taste of early spring.
Dry-aged crudo of shima aji crafted into a breathtaking flower on the plate was next on offer, separated by lean slices of cara cara oranges, winter apples, and creamy avocado, kissed by the brilliant acidity of an accompanying aguachile, yet another inspiration from Chef's upbringing.
As you know, the fat kid in me is always glad to see a bread course. Milk bread has been among my favorites lately, and Pastry Chef Celine Plano's fluffy and moist permutation dusted with sesame seeds and served with soft cheese and honey butter was a sublime example.
Miner Family is one of the most down-to-Earth wineries in Napa Valley; their chardonnay, sourced from cool-climate Carneros fruit by the San Pablo Bay south and west of Napa, is treated with a light hand to maintain transparency and acidity while still offering some New World "heft." A perfect pairing for the creamy course to come.
Airy velouté of sunchokes covered cubed Asian pear and Mejdool dates, alongside a burst of Perigord truffle cream as well as a few shavings of the fungus and a delightful pumpernickel tuile. Not the most exciting or cutting-edge dish, but the inclusion of pumpernickel was an inspired touch.
Tablas Creek is one of the most visible wineries in the Central Coast's Paso Robles wine region, and given the relative novelty of the area, unusual varietals can be found with notable frequency. The Rhône grape roussanne is one such varietal, in addition to picpoul, an increasingly planted varietal in California. Tablas' "Esprit Blanc" is dominated by nutty and bright roussanne and blended with piquant picpoul and lush grenache blanc for an unusual and special wine.
The bigger courses were to come next, beginning with a fish course of one of the most precious Japanese fish in the sea––an itty bitty ruby snapper from the cold seas around Hokkaido called kinki. We were presented with the uncooked fish on a platter tableside, and shortly after brought one of the most successful seafood courses in recent memory. Delicate kinki with perfectly crisp skin was served with globe artichoke and celery root, and dressed with a wildly creative foam of mussel reduction and Pernod. The dance of flavors of herbaceous artichoke and celery root with the heady mussel and anise sauce was a perfect complement to the precious cut of snapper. Wow.
The first of the two supplemental courses featured truffles, and there is only one pairing with truffles––Piedmontese nebbiolo. While perigord, or black, truffles are not inextricably tied to Piemonte, the nebbiolo around Alba is grown in the same areas as the region's famous white truffles, and as sommeliers like to say, "what grows together pairs together." With a subtle savory undertone of earth and truffle, this Barbaresco from Albino Rocca was perfect.
Gnocchi was the vehicle for the generous helping of perigords, paired with parmesan cheese of significant age, confit leeks, and hedgehog mushrooms. It's hard to mess up a truffle course, though I'll say simplicity is often advisable so the tuber can shine, and I found there to be one or two too many accompanying elements.
My favorite wine of the night coupled brilliantly with my favorite course of the night, the second of the supplemental dishes. Copain produces fantastic single-site pinot from Sonoma and Mendocino counties. While 2017 was a hot year and less regarded than adjacent vintages, I have found the wines from 2017 are showing brilliantly. Copain sources fruit from the historic Edmeades Vineyard in the Anderson Valley of Mendocino from the oldest vines and steepest slopes, guaranteeing a wine of magnificent complexity and depth. With beams of concentrated red fruit and dark cherries framed by earth and "Mendocino spice," it was the wine of the night.
Cole talked me into getting both of the supplemental courses––"might as well go for it if we're here"––and I am thrilled he did. The course of the night was a gorgeous breast of squab crusted in pine nuts and coriander seeds, accompanied by brown butter parsnips, winter blood oranges, and a breathtaking mole negro. Chef would later remark to us, when we were visiting him in the kitchen before dessert, that the mole negro is the most special item that comes out of the kitchen, because mole is "cooked from the heart and not the head." A spectacular offering from a chef that was already hitting all the right notes.
A completely superfluous and very gay decanter housed the final red wine of the night, this one coming from vineyards neighboring the Four Seasons property. Eisele makes this Bordeaux blend, "Altagracia," from various plots in Calistoga, and this 2012 was a beautifully resolved wine from an excellent vintage, and a textbook pairing with the beef to come.
While I don't expect the price points to hold as this place becomes more renowned (and likely collects more Michelin stars) I'm not sure there's a tasting menu in California that offers wagyu beef at these prices. This was a classic, white tablecloth–style dish that was decidedly less interesting than the squab that preceded, but still divine. Black trumpet mushroom confit provided umami and earth, while bok choy soubise added vegetal backbone to the allium essence of the sauce, and sherry-marinated maitakes contributed additional layers of flavor.
Before dessert, we were invited into the gleaming kitchen to meet and chat with Chef, who was nothing but warm and gracious with his time and conversation, even at the busiest time of night. I detected palpable joy in the air in the kitchen, which was a refreshing novelty given the severe nature of many fine dining kitchens. On our way out, we were handed lollipops of passion fruit meringue and marshmallow. Passion fruit is the greatest fruit, and nobody can tell me otherwise.
We had the choice between two dessert wines, one of which commanded a few extra dollars, but as Cole said before, "might as well!" Dolce is the sweet offering from the Far Niente family of wines, and it's been described, correctly, as liquid gold, with cascades of honey and sweet orchard fruit. A perfect, distinctly Napa dessert wine offering. We shared that and a glass of '97 Sauternes, displaying characteristic aromas of saffron and honey and powerful acidity.
Thinly-sliced Fuji apples were compressed into a tatin, with butter and spice contrasted with an apple cider coulis. But it was the chocolate dessert, with coffee ganache, impossibly creamy chocolate namelaka, and puffed buckwheat that impressed us most, both visually and on our tastebuds.
Little bites closed the meal, as we expected, with a significant selection that we took our time to enjoy. My personal favorite was a Turkish delight made with raspberry and kicked up a notch with aromatic lychee. A wonderful way to end.
Cole and I were both wildly impressed by Auro. I'd predict that this will become the next major dining destination in Napa Valley in due time, and it may already be reaching that status. While still in the shadow of the legacy of the French Laundry, the food at Auro displays creativity, generosity, and heart while still staying in the lane of decadent wine country cuisine. I'll be thrilled to come back and see how Auro evolves!