The days are short and dark, and the snow and cold stubbornly remain. It can be a difficult, in-between time. That’s part of why we believe it’s one of the best times to gather — warm up together, beat the winter chill with a hearty meal, and find the beauty of the season in the twinkle of a good friend’s eye over a final glass at the end of the night, the bright burst of winter citrus that sneaks some sunshine into the dark days.

The barn warmed with good company as the night turned dark around us, many people lingering in the golden light of the glossy wooden room long after the meal ended. Eventually, we all had to bundle up, snuff out the grills’ glowing embers, and make our way into the winter’s eve, warmed through from the inside out. It was just the kind of evening that fortifies us until the soft spring sunshine arrives.

The evening felt a bit like an after-hours social, blending the vibes of a speakeasy with the French-colonial aesthetic of the city, the flavors of a South American holiday meal, the classic winemaking traditions of Cognac, and the New World terroir of the Russian River Valley — the whole experience an exciting, indefinable blend of cultural celebration fitting for the ineffable, exuberant spirit of New Orleans itself.

Unfortunately, some excitable fire ants changed our plans mid-morning, sending us away from the tree line and onto main ceremony lawn for Supper. By the end of the night, we were thanking those fire ants for correcting us! Our fountain-side table offered a perfect view of a fiery fall sunset — something worth moving the table many times over.

By the time the sky darkened and dessert was served, the table was ringing with cheers and applause for an evening well-spent, the talented chef who brought everyone together for an unforgettable meal, and the artistry of the functional vessels in which it was served.

After some initial bites and pairings, we officially welcomed everyone and walked to the table, which was hidden in a hollow of a service road next to one of those vineyards, rich in fall colors. We lined that table with sunflowers and set each place setting with an acorn, balancing the burst of end of summer sunshine with the oncoming contraction of fall.

Supper stretched until just past sunset, but guests lingered around the glowing table long after dark, sipping their final cocktails and enjoying the evening, which carried with is the first hint of chill of the changing season.

After officially welcoming everyone with a toast to set the tone for a night of creative luxury, the table was revealed from behind curtains draped over the entry to an adjacent atrium. It was set as a still life of its own, with frothy white silk tablecloths and opening bites of French cheeses, fruit, and toasts in served in silver coupes and baskets scattered between dramatic florals in rich shades of green, gold, and wine. Chef Brooke Faudree’s meal of classic French cuisine unfolded in similar style, each course presented like a perfect little painting, wine glittering against white marble walls in the warm light of the atrium, and conversation raising to gently reverberate around the room.

As the light faded in the fields, the sky flamed bright blues and oranges sweeping across the expansive sky, a late-summer sunset that seemed specially designed to match the bright tablescape. We dined until well after dark, uninterested in the wonderful evening ending too soon, much more inclined to linger in good company, listening to the soundtrack of singing crickets as the stars began to blink on above.

The sweeping view of the Columbia Gorge from the porch of one of the guest cabins, even swathed in a thin sheen of wildfire smoke, is one of the most beautiful landscapes one could ever hope to see. On this ranch, though, the views continue as they wrap around, transforming into rugged mountain ridges as Wind Mountain stands sentry over the vast landscape. It’s nothing short of spectacular, even without the sentimental attachment we carry.