Exploring the Temecula Valley: Top stays, eateries, and activities from a San Diego local

Less than an hour drive north of downtown San Diego, we duck off the I-15 freeway into historic Old Town Temecula. The main drag is: Dusty. Rustic. Anachronistic. Driving down gridlocked Old Town Front Street, we pass throwback-named eateries like The Gambling Cowboy and Small Barn. My wife and I stop at the Swing Inn Cafe & BBQ, a local landmark since 1927, when Temecula was a working cattle town inhabited by real-deal cowboys. 

The Swing Inn was purchased in 2023 by Dean Norris. The actor played lawman Hank Schrader, brother-in-law to drug kingpin Walter White (Bryan Cranston), in the hit series Breaking Bad.

Norris is a grounded, gregarious soul, often found working in the restaurant. He poses for customer selfies dozens of times a day. And he courteously agrees to meet right after flying back from New York City, where he’s playing a recurring character in Law & Order.

Two decades ago, Norris was living in Los Angeles and working at Baja Studios in Mexico. During one commute, he stopped in Temecula. It didn’t take Norris and his wife, Bridget, long to decide this was the quiet, traditional town where they should buy a house and raise a family.

“I like small towns,” he says. “Not cities like L.A. or New York that impose themselves on you or your family. We wanted our kids to go to local schools and have this experience.”

Norris’ two decades as a resident helped assuage locals that he’d be a trustworthy steward of the Swing Inn. By popular demand, he kept liver and onions on the menu. Norris also bought a customized set of smokers for brisket entrees and added dinner hours. 

He’s got his sights set on two more Old Town plots: the next-door building (formerly Rancho Fruit Market) where he’s planning an upscale bar/restaurant, and a nearby house he envisions as a high-end Italian eatery.

I half-seriously ask Norris if he’ll run for sheriff. He laughs. He’s busy acting, growing a restaurant empire, and selling Schraderbräu, a real lager that’s also a Breaking Bad reference.

Temecula Valley is a hotbed of post-COVID expansion. Named by the native Luiseño Indians then interpreted through Spanish settlers, Temecula translates into English as “where the sun breaks through the mist.” 

The population has broken through the 100,000 barrier. Temecula Wine Country (nestled between coast and mountains) is now home to 47 wineries spread across 33,000 acres.

The New Inn is our home base for a three-day visit. It’s small and posh, with five villas done in all-white decor. Centrally located atop a hill within the valley, The New Inn wins me over with vaulted ceilings, amply-sized bathrooms, and room service breakfast baskets filled with pastries, juices, and yogurt served in hinge-top glass bottles.

With 47 to choose from, we can only drop in on a few wineries. Wiens Cellars, for example, recently changed ownership, but maintains a 2,000-name membership club and wisely kept on veteran staff who support a healthy mail-order business.

The grand new experiment in town is Europa Village Wineries & Resort. When the vision is completed, Europa Village will be three side-by-side destinations set in Old-World recreations of Spanish (Bolero), French (C’est la Vie), and Italian (Vienza) villages. Don’t miss the tapas-inspired menu by executive chef Hany Ali at Bolero Restaurante.

The Renzoni family history of winemaking dates back to rural Italy in 1886. The Robert Renzoni Vineyards chapter began in Temecula in 2004. He’s built a wine estate piece by piece which now includes a delightful pizza restaurant that also serves wings reminiscent of his Buffalo, New York, hometown.

Olivia Bue is Renzoni’s sharp, young winemaker, who catches my attention talking about Vermentino, a white summer wine that bridges the palate between chardonnay and sauvignon blanc.

Renzoni himself wows me twice. First, by showing off his estate’s “secret” poker room decorated with Frank Sinatra and Rat Pack photos. Then, by making the vintage bell atop his restaurant’s arched tower ring by activating it through an app on his phone.

Temecula Valley is more than just wine country. A Grape Escape Hot Air Balloon Adventure lifts off at 6:30am. We soar 4,200 feet above the quiet idyll of farmland. The one-hour morning trip is less frigid than you’d think for three reasons: One, propelled at wind speed, you don’t experience wind chill. Two, there are constant propane-fueled fire blasts directly above your head. Three, your heart is warmed by visions below of unspoiled wine country terroir.

Back on terra firma, there’s an Old Town storefront that sells Temecula Olive Oil Company’s primary product. You can have a great experience there, or a transcendent one at owners Thom and Nancy Curry’s verdant, ranch-style farm in nearby Aguanga. They’ve got thousands of trees. We watch olives being laboriously whisked from branches. My wife and I sample oils that prompt our taste buds to sing arias. And we witness full-circle joy in Nancy’s two-decade-old photos of their daughter helping plant seedlings, and recent shots of her in a white gown, getting married under the shade of the now-mature trees she’d help plant.  

We also find time to horse around. Galway Downs Equestrian Center is an impressive, professional, multi-use facility. Spread out on 240 acres are 400 permanent horse stalls, a one-mile race track, ⅝-mile training track, polo field, 14 arenas for training and competition, 15 miles of trails, and a staff bonded by its love of all things equine. Venue manager Robert Kellerhouse is passionate about Galway Downs, and expects equestrian competitions in the 2024 Paris Olympics to ignite interest and visits to this corner of Temecula.

My wife and I go horseback riding at California Ranch Company. There are eight of us on the trail (if you count the horses): CRC owner Bob Brown on Azul, rancher Maria Kurtzweil on Blaze, my wife, Jules, riding Silver (“Hi-ho!”), and I’m saddled upon Guinness, a chestnut paint whose frame is stout (in a nod to the ale) and whose hair is the color of beer foam.

We tour California Ranch Company, passing covered arenas, livestock holds, a cottage, ranch house, and bunkhouse, and we march right through a vineyard. Along the way we’re stalked by a harmless, curious coyote. Brown proves to be an astutely grounded cowboy philosophizer. After the ride, he pours us glasses of champagne mixed with orange juice to toast our shared, simple pleasure. 

“I don’t know what everybody else did today,” he says, smiling, mimosa pointed upward at the blue sky, “but we rode horses through a vineyard.”