In California’s Napa Valley, winter is a season that really cuts the mustard

So I’d clearly been wrong about that whole “barren” thing. As my pre-trip anxieties melted away like the snow that almost never falls here, other off-season perks became apparent.

The vibe in the tasting rooms we visited — from Carneros’s Cuvaison to notable sparkling wine producer Schramsberg — was downright serene, a stark contrast to fall’s harried grape harvest season.

Personal Post

“Once the wine’s in and fermenting, it’s the quietest time of the year, so the winemakers are relatively cool, calm and collected,” said Clay Gregory, president and chief executive of the Napa Valley Destination Council. “So it’s a great time to get more personal attention from winemakers and winery owners.”

Mustard aside, the marketing minds at the council have started pushing another moniker to drum up tourism in the slow months: “Cabernet Season.” The bold flavors of Napa’s flagship wine, cabernet sauvignon, are perfect for cold nights, Gregory explained. “And it’s a lot better than calling it winter.”

To seek out tastes of those signature cabs, we ensconced ourselves in one of the comfortable cottages at the Carneros Inn, well positioned between the bases of the Sonoma and Napa valleys.

Once the site of a trailer park and RV storage, the 27-acre resort now comprises neat rows of cottages and homes, several restaurants, a gourmet market, a spa and — my favorite — a hilltop pool where horses from the neighboring farm saunter up to the fence in hopes of scoring an apple handout from the orchard.

Our cottage’s spacious private patio, lined with a corrugated metal fence and scrubby rosemary bushes, was outfitted with heaters, a gas fireplace and a clawfoot tub, turning January’s chill into a treat.

As we set out the next morning for our first wine-tasting appointment, thick fog hung oppressively overhead. But there was the cheerful mustard to the rescue, tenaciously glowing in the midday gloom.

At Spring Mountain Vineyard, the manicured hillside backdrop for the 1980s soap opera “Falcon Crest,” we splurged on a bottle of the lush 2005 Elivette, a blend of cabernet sauvignon, cabernet franc, petit verdot and merlot.

From there, we continued up the mountain, where nubbly green moss coated the blackened branches of damp trees. Somewhere along the ascent to 2,000 feet, we burst through the blanket of fog, leaving behind what looked like an ocean of undulating clouds concealing the valley below.

Perched on the sun-drenched mountaintop at Pride Mountain Vineyards, whose property is bisected by the Napa-Sonoma county line, it seemed that the season had changed on us. Then came a winter reminder: The case of wine we ordered wouldn’t ship until the low temperatures back in Washington stayed above 45, we were informed. That could be several months, I fretted, pining for the black cherry-nosed cab they’d boxed up for us.

We ran into a few other winter snags. I was eager to try the Napa restaurant Oenotri, a hot Italian newcomer since my last trip, but it was closed for a winter break. A few other well-known eateries were also taking seasonal timeouts.

But we had no problem scoring a table at the buzzing Rotisserie and Wine, then a month-old Tyler Florence restaurant on downtown Napa’s revitalized riverfront. The menu’s South-by-way-of-wine-country slant meant a dinner of deviled eggs topped with crisp chicken skin and hot sauce, and duck confit with waffles.

On our last day, the gloom was back as we pulled into Francis Ford Coppola’s Rubicon Estate (recently renamed Inglenook). From the parking lot, we waded through a milky fog so thick it would have provided perfect cover for Kurtz’s lair in “Apocalypse Now.” Inside, Coppola’s collection of vintage zoetropes and cinema memorabilia distracted us from the main wine attractions.

For a final stop, we hit an old favorite, Frank Family Vineyards, where the tasting notes for the 2008 Reserve Zinfandel called out wintry imagery — minced meat tarts and roasted hazelnuts. I quizzed the woman doling out splashes about living through wine country winters. “Even when it’s dark and gray, it’s not gross,” she said. “It’s never not nice.”

Even if you’re not riding in a convertible.

Where to go and what to know in Nappa.

McClements is a Washington-based writer and creator of the food and dining site Metrocurean.