Breakfast at Vintage Inn, Yountville (Napa)

Confession: I have a problem with buffets. I love them so much that I secretly wish they suck.
While my gluttony longs to be astonished with an epicurean banquet, my conscience deeply hopes to find a paltry, healthy chow.
If not, I can be really dangerous.

Unluckily, the “Signature Champagne Breakfast Buffet” at Vintage Inn, Yountville, doesn’t get along with my conscience.

It would be impossible to report the unlimited number of tidbits exposed. I’ll limit the description to my highlights:

1) Crème Anglaise. I have a total blast on it. A silky, warm custard, made with egg yolks, sugar and milk, infused with vanilla beans.
I spread it over their sweet bran & walnut bread.
I pour it on their homemade organic granola.
I spoon it on their Port poached pears.
I put in my plate and dip dry figs in it.
I eat it plain.
The waitress embarrassingly refills the jug after each of my trials. I don’t care. It’s worth it.

2) Blueberry and ricotta pie. Light, fresh. Never happen to stop after the first slice. Lovable.

3) Banana bread pudding. Always served warm on a covered iron platter. Luscious.

4) Anise shortbread cookies. Savory, crispy treats that I use to draw with spoonfuls of their zesty lemon custard. Unbelievable.

5) Raspberry jam turnovers and raisins flaky pastries. As their own filling wasn’t enough, I spread some Persimmon compote on top. Deliciuos.

After this feast I get thirsty, but the drink section, provided with organic apple cider and homemade hot chili pepper chocolate, makes me forget the existence of the words “water”, “coffee” and “tea”.

For an Italian who grew up dipping cookies in milk for breakfast, morning has to be sweet. But Alec falls in love with the “Egg Station“, where the chef creates your omelet from scratch letting you choose among every thinkable kind of vegetables, cheese and meat.

Alec gets high.
I just nibble. Usually.
But the morning they serve an egg pie, filled with caramelized carrots, onions and Brie cheese, I surrender.
This dish is too good. Who cares if it’s morning?

… I guess “the size of my jeans” could be a possible answer.

It would have been better if… we hadn’t gained a pound every single breakfast.

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