Notes from the Cellar A Seat at the Table Between the Lines Zest Friends Forever
by Joey Wolosz | Published March 3, 2025
Warm spring greetings.
March arrived like a magician pulling rabbits from hats and scarves from sleeves—one unexpected thing after another.
We kicked off the month with our Studio for Gustatory Well-Being humming with lights, cameras, wine, and cooking. We hosted two photo shoots, including one for the re-launch of Airbnb Experiences, and we’re honored to be among the first featured in the Bay Area.
We ended the month with a long overdue day off—our first in sixteen months, by our count. Calistoga called, and we answered, soaking in the mineral waters like 19th-century eccentrics taking the cure. It was our first leisurely drive up the Silverado Trail in over a year (we’ve been working, a lot), and the March greenery and wildflowers reminded us what a joy it is to look up and out.
Our fourth magazine, Seasons, is officially out with 124 pages of all new content, recipes, interviews, and the unexpected. It’ll be up on the website soon. To get ahead of the line, stop by the Gentleman Farmer Bungalow and thumb through it in person.
On deck! I am preparing menus for our June expedition yacht tour and researching markets in each port: Portugal, Morocco, Spain, France, and Italy. We have 15 cabins booked with wine club members and friends and an additional 83 cabins with new people to meet. Our flights have been secured and a new passport application submitted with a freshly updated photo. I may say, my new photo says sleek and self contained European operative. Meanwhile, Easter plans at the Gentleman Farmer Bungalow are taking shape with a Polish-Italian mashup that promises kiełbasa, frittata, and plenty of wine.
To bring you up to spring speed, I’m back in the saddle on my unicycle, I’m on the hunt for a travel-size accordion, and I’m rehearsing magic card effects. Because, if this wine gig doesn’t pan out, I have plans to start a traveling circus. Yes, I am unconventional and known to be a little bit shady, both requisite to lead a life of a carnie.
Joey Wołosz
Vintner, Cook, Carnie Folk
We host up to 14 guests at a time for wine tastings paired with breakfast, lunch, or dinner—each one prepared by us, served in our Gentleman Farmer Bungalow, and centered around conversation, connection, and the kinds of meals that feel like home. Expect family recipes, a few old-school flourishes (hello, 1970s Julia Child), and wines with stories to tell. If that sounds like your kind of table, click here to book your seat.
Donna Cooner writes the kind of stories that stay with you—honest, layered, and tuned to the quiet struggles and triumphs of growing up. She’s a storyteller, an educator, and, as I recently learned, a former scribe for Barney the Dinosaur. Yep, the big purple guy.
Donna first came into the Gentleman Farmer Bungalow one afternoon for a glass of wine, to edit a new manuscript, and even stayed for dinner. We started talking, and I quickly realized her stories extend far beyond the page.
Her young adult novels explore identity, self-worth, and the messy terrain of adolescence in a filtered, fast-moving world. Now she’s stepping into adult fiction with a new book set in the Scottish Highlands. We sat down to talk about her journey from kindergarten teacher to best-selling author, her love of journaling, and what it means to truly live—with intention, humor, and plenty of lasagna.
Her books have been translated into French, Basque, Norwegian, Swedish, Russian, and Finnish
You can follow her @dcooner and find her at donnacooner.com
Joey Wołosz: What inspired your path as a writer, especially in young adult fiction?
Donna Cooner: My career has run in parallel tracks: one as a writer and one as an educator. I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was a child. I recently found a journal from when I was eight years old, outlining my writing schedule. At that age, I’d never met a real author. Authors were these mysterious figures connected to books, and I had no idea how one actually became an author.
So I became a teacher. Education ran in my family. My father was a teacher, my mother was a school secretary. I swore I’d never teach, but I did, and I absolutely loved it. I started my teaching career in kindergarten, fresh out of college at 21 years old, with 35 five-year-olds in a very poor school in Texas. It was over 100 years old, and my classroom was in the basement, far away from any other adults. It sounds grim, but it was magical. It laid the foundation for everything I’ve done since.
One thing I could always count on, no matter how wild the kids were, was storytime. I fell in love with picture books—they felt like magic windows. I became fascinated by which books held the children’s attention and which didn’t. That’s when I started thinking, Maybe I could write picture books. I quickly realized how hard they are to write well. They’re limited in words, they are poetic, and collaborative—you’re partnering with an illustrator. It’s like a dance.
I attended conferences, pursued professional development, all while continuing to teach. At one national conference for children’s writers and illustrators in Los Angeles, I stepped into an elevator and a woman noticed my name tag and that I was from Texas. She asked what I did. I said I was a writer and teacher. She replied, “I’m the editor-in-chief of Barney Books.” I handed her a flyer and thought nothing of it.
Later, in a giant ballroom filled with hundreds of people, she came and found me. She invited me to dinner to talk about writing for the children’s series Barney and Friends. I’d never watched the show, and I didn’t have kids that age, but it was huge at the time—everywhere. We went to dinner, and she asked me where I grew up. I said, “You’ve never heard of it, but I’m from Jackson, Texas.” She asked which elementary school I went to. I told her. Then she asked who my third grade teacher was. I answered, and she said, “I taught third grade at that school about that time.” Turns out she was in the classroom next to mine.
That strange, serendipitous connection led to me writing spinoff books for Barney. Eventually, one of the head writers left to work on the Barney movie, and they were trying out ten writers to fill in. She asked me to submit a treatment. I had no idea what a treatment was—I had to call a friend to find out. I wrote it, submitted it, and was hired.
I ended up writing four episodes. I was the only one on the team who wasn’t full-time. I was still teaching and juggling both worlds. Later, I was offered a job as an educational consultant for Wishbone, a show created by the sister of Barney’s creator. But I couldn’t make the leap into full-time creative work. I stayed in education. Looking back, I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d gone into television fully—but the show was canceled after a few years, so maybe it all worked out.
All in all, I wrote about 20 picture books, many of them Barney spinoffs. My best-seller was probably Bedtime For Baby Bop. Sadly, no royalties for licensed characters, but the pay was decent and complemented my teaching salary well.
Eventually, I moved into higher education, got my doctorate, and joined a university faculty. For seven years I stopped writing creatively and focused on publishing for tenure—educational research and teacher development. It took all of my writing energy. Once I had tenure and more stability, I returned to writing, but I didn’t want to go back to picture books.
I wrote my first young adult novel. My mother had passed away, and I was in a different emotional place. I was also working with college students, which influenced my writing. Young Adult writing felt like a natural fit—it was a booming genre, just after Hunger Games and Twilight. My first book, Skinny, was deeply personal. It went to auction, won awards, and was well received. From there, I stayed with the same agent and editor at Scholastic and continued writing Young Adult fiction.
JW: Tell me about the book you are currently working on
DC: My new book is my first adult book and is very much in the drafting stage.
THREE MONTHS is about an author who escapes to the Scottish Highlands with one goal: write an authentic book in her three-month window between medical appointments. She expects solitude but instead discovers connection—with a mischievous chocolate lab, a trio of whisky-loving locals, and Grayson, a passionate chef pursuing his own dreams. She faces an impossible choice: protect those she’s grown to love by keeping her secrets, or embrace the messy, beautiful truth of her life—however long that might be. THREE MONTHS explores what it means to truly live when every moment counts.
JW: What’s your idea of a perfect day?
DC: It would start with exercise—I’ve been in a CrossFit group tailored for older adults for about ten years. Some members are in their 80s. It’s inspiring. Then I’d come home, make good coffee, and journal—writing by hand helps me get into a creative space. After that, I’d edit whatever I’m working on, which is my favorite stage of writing.
I’d have a light lunch, take a nap with the windows open to let in the Colorado breeze, then maybe edit a bit more. For dinner, we’d fire up the outdoor pizza oven, pour some good wine, and gather by the fire pit with neighbors, telling stories under the stars.
JW: Who is your favorite artist, composer, or creator?
DC: That changes constantly. I recently discovered Riley Green, a country singer I saw in concert. I don’t usually listen to country, but I love his music. I also love reading debut authors. Right now, I’m reading Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt. One of the narrators is an octopus—it’s so original and beautifully done.
JW: What was your first meaningful connection to wine and food?
DC: I grew up Southern Baptist, so there was no alcohol at all in my household. I came to wine later in life. My first real connection happened while traveling in Spain. The whole idea of tapas and wine—those small bites, the way wine changed with each one—it was eye-opening. But more than the pairing, it was the pace of the experience. It was slow, social, and sensory. It changed how I saw food and drink.
JW: What are some of your other creative outlets?
DC: Music, in a nontraditional sense. I make playlists for all my books—sometimes even one per chapter. They help me re-enter the story’s atmosphere. I also find travel to be incredibly creative. Planning a trip is like storytelling. We’re planning one to Japan right now, and I’m having a great time imagining what will be meaningful for us.
JW: If you could have a long, lingering meal with any two people, who would they be?
DC: Anne Richards, the former governor of Texas. She was a liberal, a feminist, and a witty force in a world dominated by good ol’ boys. Her one-liners were legendary—“Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, but backwards”—and I’d love to hear her take on politics today.
The second would be Agatha Christie. I started reading her books as a child and skipped over young adult books straight into adult mysteries. Later, I learned she had a fascinating life. She’d bring the literary intrigue to the table.
As for the food, my husband is the cook—he’s wonderful. But if I had to make something, it would be lasagna. It’s my go-to recipe from my college roommate.
JW: Do you have a personal motto?
DC: Yes: Just live.
In 2020, deep in the COVID pandemic, I was diagnosed with stage four ovarian cancer. The odds were not in my favor. I carry the BRCA2 genetic marker, inherited from my mother, who also passed away from cancer. After a year of treatment, I was in remission, but the chance of recurrence was high.
I had to make a choice: live in fear or live fully. I chose to live. That motto has taken me to temples in Cambodia, street food in Saigon, wine in Tuscany, and here—to Napa. I believe I’m alive because of cutting-edge cancer research and clinical trials. I worry deeply that this life-saving research is being defunded. It’s personal. It’s why I’m here. And I try to live every day with that in mind.
Spring in Napa Valley is subtle and also bright. Longer light, soft green hues in the vineyard, bud break, and citrus at the market. This recipe for citrus curd is my way of holding onto that brightness. It’s smooth, tart, and just sweet enough, made with whatever late winter/early spring zesty fruit looks best that week—lemon, orange, or something in between. Rather than dairy, I incorporate a little more sunshine with fruity olive oil. I like to serve it with our Chardonnay cake, Negroni snacking cake, or clafoutis with a glass of Chardonnay.