I took a spontaneous trip here on a Saturday morning while technically staying in Santa Rosa, and it is all I needed to remember why this is my absolute *favorite* place to eat in pretty much the entire state of California, if not the country. Each and every single time I come here, somehow they manage to just keep raising the bar. Truly I'd be happy if things were just kept static, but asking that of Costeaux is downright impossible.

I kid you not- every employee I've talked to has been wonderful, visibly happy/jolly, and the service from them impeccable. This last Saturday I was in, my server checked in frequently, another employee just randomly showed up and asked me if I would like a free cake sample; While another saw that I had gotten some jam on my napkin and they brought me out a new one- and to boot, the owner is genuinely so kind. Every interaction was just what you'd want at 8:00am on a lazy Saturday.

What did I get to eat? Coffee and the Monte Cristo. And how was it? DIVINE. The bread recipe hasn't changed a bit (that I can tell at least and that cinnamon walnut bread is possibly my favorite carb on the face of the planet), the cranberry jam it came with this time was delightfully sweet and tangy, and the accompanying salad was super fresh, crisp and appropriately dressed. A perfect palate cleanser if you will for the devious wine tasting that was to come. The coffee I ordered came with a little puff pastry on the side topped with some walnuts. It's those little things that just make you feel a bit warmer inside that Costeaux excels at.

I mean this place is literally perfect. I don't know how they do it- truly. Maybe it's just that Costeaux is Healdsburg personified, or maybe ownership just knows to not change what works, but again, my last review stands and as I said in it---- *any* time Costeaux is within driving radius I'm stopping by. And each and every single time I stop by Healdsburg, it's extremely comforting to know that this little café will always be there with open arms, hot coffee and hopefully that delectable Monte Cristo. See you soon, Costeaux!

Well, this didn't go as planned. Since my last review, I've been here a few times and it's progressively dropped, but last night was the last time.

It was for two of us, and a rather simple occasion- just dinner. For appetizers we ordered the beef carpaccio and the Caesar salad. After approximately 25 minutes of sitting there and just drinking wine, they arrive. Carpaccio was fine enough- but not as good as it used to be. The salad was for the most part good, but the anchovies they're using now are a bit more pungent than what I remember.

For the entrees, the server mentions some aged t-bone something as one of the specials. I was debating the filet or the agnolotti. I asked the server and he sold me on the t-bone but didn't mention the price ($90 of you're curious- I found out during payment and was not enthused). We ended up ordering the filet and the t-bone. The filet was enjoyable enough- but not well seasoned. The t-bone was extremely tough, overly fatty and fairly bland. Not worth $50, even less $90.

What's even more disappointing was the side dish- the layered potatoes with cheese were all extremely undercooked. The potatoes were crunchy and the cheese too much. The potatoes were like raw crunchy, NOT crispy crunchy. I wanted to tell our server but he didn't pop around for another 35 minutes.

We ordered dessert and the apple streusel tasted like a 50¢ apple pie wrapped in wax paper while the panna cotta was a disappointing blob of milky gelatin. All in all, we saw our server maybe for a total of 2 minutes over the course of nearly 2 hours. He stopped by the table maybe a total of 3 times during the course of those 2 minutes he was present. We actively ate for maybe 45 minutes. Everything else was either waiting for the food to arrive or waiting to order.

I'm only giving this 2/5 just because the beef carpaccio was mediocre and because the ambience was nice. But everything else was subpar. And that will be my last visit. There are other dining establishments where they're honest about pricing, where service is still a thing and diners aren't left hanging.

Okay I absolutely loved my sandwich!

The other three people were all disappointed in theirs.

1/4 isn't a solid score if you ask me.

I got the muffaletta sandwich and it was oh so good- just the right amount of cured meats, tapenade and roasted red peppers. The bread was wonderful. The amount of dressing was perfect- the sandwich was not soggy, not dry, not a mouthful.

The three perpetrators were the chicken pesto (a massive and tough piece of chicken breast), the tri-tip (quite bland, chewy and not a good mix of sandwich fillings) and then the chicken Parmesan (tough chicken with a soggy crumb and weird cheese). I didn't taste them, but those were the verdicts! And btw, one of those sandwiches went to someone who eats just about anything and enjoys it.

It was a little sad to be in the company of three sad sandwiches and so throughly enjoy my own.

Would I return? Probably not. Even if I enjoy my food, the chances that those with me won't are pretty high.

What a place. What a lovely, joyful, cozy place. I'm still having a hard time coming to terms that I am no longer in Santa Cruz.. and this place has a lot to do with that.

We walked in on a Friday afternoon in a group of four, no reservation. We were greeted by a kind man with long flowing hair who was watering the indoor carnivorous plants on the windowsill while Celia Cruz was playing (RIGHT!?). A few more seconds, and you take in what seems like that typical cozy shop you wish you were at when you're looking for ambient music on YouTube. To set the scene like that, who wouldn't want to spend some time there!? Anywho, John introduces himself, and he gives us a rundown of the lineups and the fun begins. It was also at that point where I learned John wasn't any ordinary tasting room associate. There was something mysterious, but inspiring about the guy- he carries himself with such humility, but is easily one of the most seasoned, intellectual and well rounded people in the winosphere I've come across.

We're getting settled in and John swings by with the first wines. For me that was Cinsault Blanc de Noir. A perfect introduction to the innovation and daring philosophy of this place- a wonderfully confusing wine with characteristics you'd find in a red wine but with that juiciness you crave in a cold white, but the richness of great champagne. Just wonky, classy and riveting wine. Next up was the Semillon and that thing was WOW. That glass went from a handful of sliced limes to this bundled up melange of apricots and guava. Then came the outstanding Chardonnay that showcased this lovely stony, briney almost reminiscent of a green apple soaked in lemon juice with maybe a zing of mint note. After that I came back to the Semillon to find the most lovely cotton candy-like but key lime pie tasting creamy white. My god.

3/3 was not the finale though---- oh no. Our group asked John about Chenin Blanc from Jurassic Park Vineyard and the way his face lit up was something that I'll never forget- and at that moment, without him even having to say anything, I just *knew* John was no ordinary tasting room associate: this was his passion and his project. He was THE GUY. He brought out an example of a Chenin Blanc that he pulled from somewhere and as soon as the scents of gardenia, honey, rocks and wax hit me (obviously with a taste to confirm), I just remember thinking "I've come across the Domaine Huet of my side of the world." I'd say something between the Sec version of a chilly vintage for Haut Lieu or Clos du Bourg for you wine geeks. It's incredibly hard to summarize that Chenin John poured into just four words, but trust me, that is a *MAGICAL* wine that I'll never forget. As if that mind blowing wine wasn't enough, John comes back with another bottle of Chenin Blanc and drops the word "botrytis" and I nearly fainted. Equally delicious (just like all Huet wines) but with that funky ginger/overripe pear note. The vintages? I know what they are but I'm not telling. Just know any given vintage of this Chenin will age just as well as any Huet.

You're thinking, "okay John is great blah blah blah" and I'd agree with the first four words, but then John brings out two wines from the same vineyard- a Pinot Noir and a Mourvèdre. Side by side. For any of you who don't understand the fun word of "terroir", I think these two wines will summarize it well- both wines were unique (and mighty tasty) BUT they both had this elegance, this freshness, this compounding and equalizing feel- evidence of not only the vineyard, but the gentle and transparent hand that Birichino uses on ALL of their wines.

By this point, I'm just in awe and shock at being at a winery, being guided on this what felt like a multigenerational tour of international grapes that have made their home in California and were carefully guided into bottle by John and Co.. I've been to a lot of wineries, tons of great ones, but few that don't feel the need to make wines that shout, but rather convince you in the most formidable of ways: in that they present wonky, nearly cosmic-entity levels of power and finesse that make you question whether you've ever really had anything good to start prior to visiting?

Our trip to Birichino was not just fantastic- it was riveting, inspiring, and left me wondering "did I just have a conversation (and get to drink) with the god of wine himself because I don't think there's anyone in the history of the world (past or present) who could remotely rival anything or recreating the emotions we felt while doing a tasting here."

An ordinary Friday afternoon, tasting wine in Santa Cruz- that's all it took to leave me dumbfounded, confused, sad, elated and nostalgic. It feels like a piece of me stayed at Birichino but a piece of them came with me. If John wanders around while you're there, tell him Victor said hi and then proceed to be left in awe like we were.