Pasta and a Path Forward

There are many ways to cope with grief, and we thought a change of scenery might be helpful. We wanted a break from thinking of our beloved beagle’s sudden passing. We wanted a pause from the reminders of Kippers we could see everywhere. And we wanted relief from the triggers throughout our house. So, securing our bikes onto the back of our car, we drove seven hours north and entered the green valley snuggled between the Vaca and Mayacamas mountain ranges with the Napa River meandering through it. Knowing the attractions we’d always enjoyed there, we hoped they would provide us with some solace, comfort, and perhaps a little peace.

Located on the southern outskirts of Napa, the picturesque Stanly Ranch sits on 700+ acres and is a perfect blend of modern and historic ranch life design, comfortable yet luxe lodgings, farm-to-table dining, spa and work out facilities, and culinary classes, too. Feeling the need to connect, we stopped by a few of our favorite wineries and restaurants to take in the food and drink of the region. We also cycled in the fresh air and sunshine to commune with nature. And we enrolled in a culinary class to learn new skills and be in the company of others.

Although we had taken a pasta class in the past, the one we signed up for at Stanly Ranch differed, in a very good way. Starting in the Grange, the head gardener, Jason guided us through the property’s raised beds, educating us on everything from plant genus names to weather conditions needed for the produce to thrive. Along the way we picked fennel, oregano, rosemary, bachelor buttons, and crimson fava bean flowers to use in our creations.

Once our herbs and edible flowers were gathered, Jason escorted us to a private room at the back of the Bear Restaurant where we met Naomi, our instructor. Greeting us with a bright smile, warm handshake, and laid-back vibe, Naomi was the kind of person we needed to be around.

From my journal: January 8, 2026, written in Napa, California

“…just the two of us, the class turned out to be private…felt relaxed…so nice to focus on something else…”

With aprons on and standing at our stations, we watched her demonstrate each step then we followed suit. Forming the flour, eggs, and oil into dough felt so soothing. I could feel tension leaving my body as I kneaded it into a ball, then rolled it out. When done, we used two rectangular sheets of the dough. On one we scattered petals of the herbs and flowers making delicate patterns. Then we laminated the second sheet on top.

After threading each of our pieces through the pasta machine four times, we folded them into thirds, then cut them into half-inch strips. The result? Pretty strands of fettuccine! While a pot of water boiled to cook the pasta, we focused on the sauce. And what a sauce it was! Not tomato, but a blend of butter, garlic, shallots, butternut squash, mushrooms, pine nuts, parmesan cheese, and lemon. As it simmered, the room filled with luscious Italian aromas. Citrusy, floral, and spicy. It was like being enveloped by a warm summer breeze on a lazy Mediterranean afternoon. Then, it was time for the finale. Like the last movement of a symphony, with our al dente pasta in bowls, we sprinkled more cheese, herbs, and flowers on top. Bellissimo!

Wrapping up the lesson, Naomi snapped a few pictures, then led us through the restaurant’s kitchen, our creations in hand. Bustling with chefs and cooks, each took a minute to say hello and to compliment us on our dishes. At a large wooden table in the restaurant, we parted ways with Naomi thanking her for sharing her expertise, humor, and encouraging words. She is the type of person you meet only once but could imagine being friends with forever.

Soon, the attentive staff brought us freshly baked bread and wine to accompany our meal. Then it was time to do the honors. Everything about that first bite of pasta was life-affirming. With elevated spirits and senses, we talked about the day, what we learned, but mostly about what fun it was. Before leaving, we looked at the photos taken that afternoon. One in particular struck me. In it, we’re doing something so familiar, but something we haven’t done in a while. We’re smiling.

A change of scenery has definitely been good for us. It has been the first step on our journey through sadness, loss, and grief and onto a new path, one leading us forward.