The texts started circulating last spring. “Excited to see all of you after so long!” said one friend on the thread. “I’m so looking forward to this,” gushed another. “Is anyone bringing cigarettes?” someone joked.
No one in the group smokes, but we all felt like we were getting away with something delicious—a weekend together, far from the responsibilities of jobs and families, at a beautiful property in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Our destination: the chic and modern Farmhouse adjacent to the Blue Rock inn in Washington, Virginia.
My five traveling companions and I first met when a cadre of women coalesced in January 2018, drawn together by a shared goal to do good in our careers, households and communities, and to leverage our expertise in both organic and structured ways. We’ve referred to ourselves as the “Salon” ever since.
We are a disparate group—athletes and artists, veterans and Ph.D.s, teachers and administrators, compassionate leaders who have learned it can be lonely for women at the top of their field. We have traveled the world (one of us in the cockpit) and cultivated vast networks around the D.C. area. We are moms who have experienced all stages of parenting and partnership.
I like to think of the Salon as my version of a perimenopausal Fight Club, minus the violence—or maybe a less acerbic Algonquin Round Table, that early 20th-century band of iconoclasts that included writer Dorothy Parker and feminist Ruth Hale. We push each other to think more deeply and consider different perspectives. We share our expertise to educate and elevate each other.
For more than two years, we met bimonthly, setting aside whole afternoons—and sometimes whole weekends—to convene. But as this trip falls into place, I realize we haven’t been in the same room together since March 2020, when the pandemic drove us into isolation. It’s long overdue.
Finally, the June day arrives when we are able to gather a quorum, spilling into the vast, open floor plan of the Farmhouse to clink glasses, hug each other and fill in the blanks. We share snacks at the giant dining table and sprawl on stylish couches. We marvel at the views of the horse pastures and rolling hills. We have missed each other.
This is my second trip to Blue Rock, which opened its doors in October 2021. I visited for dinner in April 2022 and was surprised by how sophisticated and un-fusty the property felt. The spaces, designed by creative studio Lumber & Light, were clean and modern—not a doily in sight. I made a mental note to return for an overnight stay.
I had originally thought to book a romantic weekend in one of the inn’s five beautifully appointed rooms, but now here I am next door in a house full of women and my heart is just as full. While snagging the five-bedroom Farmhouse did require some scheduling acrobatics, the weekend is our own. We have the entire 3,700-square-foot residence to ourselves.
Salon gatherings are always driven by intention, and this one is no different. Most of us are recent empty-nesters or on the cusp of having kids leave for college. We are wanting to reflect more deeply on what that transition looks like in our lives—both personally and professionally.
To ground us, we call on Cara Cutro of Abracadabra Massage & Wellness in nearby Sperryville. Cutro, a warm and intuitive mom herself, is experienced in all aspects of the healing arts—from massage, reiki and acupuncture to tarot reading. She agrees to come to us, arriving at the Farmhouse with a dozen crystal singing bowls. The largest has the weight and heft of a prizewinning pumpkin.
Cutro stations herself in a corner of the second-floor bedroom suite and arranges the bowls in a semicircle around her. We lie down on yoga mats in a human Tetris formation, slip on eye masks and cocoon ourselves in blankets to prepare for our private sound bath. Whoever referred to this as “kindergarten naptime for grown-ups” was not wrong.
One of the goals of a sound bath, Cutro explains, is to inhabit that layer of consciousness between wakefulness and deep sleep, where our brains produce the electrical impulses called theta waves that promote learning and solidify memories. “This is where you do a lot of your healing,” she says. “You’re not asleep, but there’s something really restorative about it.”
Conjuring resonant tones from each bowl, she immerses us in what she describes as a “powerful form of nonverbal communication.” By the end of the hour, we all understand what that means. Most of us skate just above or below the surface of sleep; some vibrate with positive energy. (“Every new tone was like tasting different flavors,” one friend observed.)
Afterward, Cutro notes that the acoustics of the space had a softening effect on the bowls’ sound, but didn’t dampen their impact. “What a perfect place to have a retreat,” she says.
Once we flicker back to full consciousness, we disperse to our rooms—each of which has an en suite bath stocked with plush towels and Molton Brown products—and lazily dress for dinner at the inn. We end up driving to the main building (it’s a short walk away, but no one is interested in tromping through the grassy field in heels), arriving just before sunset to watch the sky turn pink above the mirror-glass pond out back.
Blue Rock’s restaurant is a go-to for locals, many of whom are lounging at patio tables, seeming to smile at their good fortune that this culinary gem landed in their laps. Situated just a few miles down the road from that other well-known dining mecca in Washington, Virginia, Blue Rock is also a special occasion destination worthy of an intimate dinner or milestone life event.
Chef Bin Lu is the driving force, having landed here in 2020 after nearly five years as head chef at D.C.’s Pineapple & Pearls, which earned two Michelin stars during his tenure. He ventured to Rappahannock County after chasing a rumor about an inn in Virginia farm country that was being renovated and under new ownership. (Nick Dowling is the property’s owner of record but prefers to stay out of the spotlight.)
“I was able to dig up the name and old website,” says Lu, now the front-facing partner for both the inn and the restaurant. “I sent a cold email to the old business, and there just happened to be someone on the other side. Everything went from there.”
At Blue Rock, he offers a seasonally driven tasting menu—$138 for five courses, with an $89 wine pairing and a handful of optional add-ons—in the 35-seat main restaurant and on the weather-permitting outdoor patio. A small adjoining tavern for inn guests (and occasionally walk-in diners) serves a more casual, a la carte menu.
Our six-course meal in the cozy private dining room begins with Lu’s crackling five-spice fried chicken. It’s accompanied by a warm mushroom tea—a description that in no way does justice to the rich, savory broth that we sip from coupe glasses.
I would have been totally content had dinner ended there, but I would have missed out on one of the most complex and memorable flavor combinations to ever pass for a salad course. Chef Lu’s heirloom tomato carta da musica—a crisp, rustic flatbread studded with produce from local farms—is smoky and fresh, bright and luxurious.
The delicate ’nduja ravioli that follows is balanced with a tangy kohlrabi choucroute and a puddle of beurre blanc. The presentation of grilled monkfish choux farci is as much artistry as it is a love letter to seasonal cooking.
Between savory bites, our dinner conversation is structured and intentional, with prompts floated for discussion: What’s the biggest thing you’re wrestling with? Name something that surprised you about yourself this year. What’s your unfair advantage? Can you cite a recent experience, book, film, etc. that taught you something new?
As a table of ladies who normally pass plates of dessert until one polite forkful remains, we show no restraint in demolishing our individual “black and white” chocolate tarts, complete with berries and olive oil gelato.
“I’ve been to a good number of local restaurants,” says one companion whose husband is a restaurateur, “and I’m hard pressed to think of a meal I’ve enjoyed as much as this.” It’s not an empty compliment.
We spend the rest of the weekend checking out nearby attractions such as Sperryville’s newly opened Marketplace (the former River District Arts Building, now a food hall and market for area artisans and vendors) and local art galleries. I always swing by Haley Fine Art in case a piece by Charlottesville artist Michael Fitts is ever available in my price range.
Some of my favorite local wineries—Linden, Glen Manor, Crimson Lane—are an easy drive from Blue Rock, but a tip from Chef Lu sends us out to spend a brilliant, blue-skied afternoon at Pen Druid, a brewery and cidery in Sperryville. The owners employ a style of fermentation that relies on native yeast and spontaneous processes to craft their beers and ciders, eight of which are on tap the day of our visit. Their taproom also sells a handful of bottles of natural wine curated by D.C. wine shop Domestique.
The real draw for me, however, is hidden in a field out back. Sumac is an “experimental kitchen” run out of a ramshackle trailer behind Pen Druid’s taproom, with a chalkboard menu and an underground fan base whose members know to order ahead.
We hardly mind lingering on the porch while waiting for an order of smoked-and-seared cauliflower served with mulberry “ketsup,” scallions, peanuts and a native plant entertainingly called “spicebush.” Also delicious is Chef Dan Gleason’s take on shrimp and grits, dressed with fava beans, cucumbers and coriander berries. And it takes very little encouragement to give in to a slice of cherry-and-serviceberry clafouti with peach leaf ice cream.
It’s some of the best—and fanciest—food I’ve ever eaten at a picnic table.
Clearly, we aren’t the only ones impressed by this hidden treasure. A few months after our visit, Sumac landed on The New York Times’ 50 favorite restaurants list of 2024.
On a winding drive home that includes a stop at Patty O’s Café & Bakery (the casual sibling of chef Patrick O’Connell’s Inn at Little Washington), the texts start pinging in again.
“Wish we had another week to spend in that farmhouse.”
“Worth every penny.”
“Ladies, I’d like to introduce you to our delicious friend, the monkfish.” Someone found an image of the gruesome, saw-fanged sea creature that looked much more docile on our plates the night before.
“We could have enjoyed the company and conversation for many more days.”
It feels like there is never enough time with this group. We always leave wanting more.
Then again, our weekend sojourn was a reminder that any of us can call on others in the group for personal wisdom, professional advice and solace at any moment—time and distance be damned.
Where to Stay
Blue Rock’s main building (the inn itself) contains five rooms starting at $199 per night, each with an en suite bathroom, luxury linens and a mix of modern and antique furnishings. Picture four-poster beds, soaking tubs, French doors and damask wallpaper. Vacation rentals of the neighboring 3,700-square-foot Farmhouse (which sleeps 10) start at $1,200 per night with a two-night minimum, but it’s the kind of place you’ll want to stay for a week. Three new buildings on the 80-acre property will soon bring the total number of rooms and suites to 19—good news to those hoping to visit after fall 2025.
Where to Eat & Drink
Dinner at Blue Rock’s on-site restaurant helmed by Chef Bin Lu is a must. Blending locally sourced and exotic ingredients, his tasting menu is an ever-changing culinary adventure.
Nearby Sperryville is dotted with casual eateries and specialty markets, but the prix fixe dinner at Three Blacksmiths is a singular experience. With only one nightly seating (Wednesday through Saturday by reservation only) and 20 seats in the intimate dining room, you’ll feel like you’ve spent the evening in the home of a friend who also happens to be a critically lauded chef. For a more casual bite, The Black Twig is a diner and bar housed in the iconic red Sperryville Schoolhouse.
About a mile from Sperryville’s main drag, you’ll find Pen Druid Fermentation just off Route 522/Sperryville Pike, with its sweeping countryside views and a rotating selection of beers and ciders on tap, plus natural wines from D.C.’s Domestique. Check the brewery’s Instagram before visiting and try to plan your visit when Sumac, the wood-fired kitchen out back, is serving small plates from its “wildly local” seasonal menu.
Where to Explore
With Shenandoah National Park as a backdrop, Sperryville is a great place to start or end a hike. Popular climbs such as Mary’s Rock, Little Devils Stairs, Old Rag and Buck Hollow are all within a 20-minute drive. Visit the National Park Service website to find a route that matches your skill level and time frame.
Showcasing works by nearly two dozen artists with Virginia roots, Haley Fine Art is a gallery that punches well above its weight class. The permanent collection alone is worth a visit to this unassuming, converted clapboard home just off Main Street in Sperryville. While you’re out and about, swing by The Marketplace Sperryville to shop for goods ranging from artisanal chocolates and olive oil soap to funky home accessories and handblown glass art.
More Group Getaway Destinations
Blending elegant furnishings with wide-plank wood floors and wood ceilings, the Farmhouse at Waterperry Farm near Charlottesville sleeps 10 and includes a pool, tennis court and outdoor kitchen. Rates begin at $2,150 per night with a required two-night minimum. Guests also enjoy access to pickleball courts, a fishing pond, walking trails and firepits. Garden tours, yoga classes and a private chef can be booked for an additional fee.
For an agrarian kind of luxury, Madeline Farms, a working farm in Luray, is home to a renovated 120-year-old farmhouse that can accommodate up to 12 people. Rates begin around $770 per night. Guests are invited to feed the animals, collect eggs and harvest crops—or sit on the porch and watch nature do its thing.
Feeling stressed? Grab up to a dozen friends and stage a takeover of the five-suite Wellspring Manor & Spa, a luxury bed-and-breakfast on seven wooded acres in Upper Marlboro, Maryland, where the pampering includes massage and skin care treatments, and customized menus designed by the on-site catering staff. Curated artworks throughout the property include paintings, sculptures and other works by more than 35 artists of color. See website for package rates.
Find serenity watching the sunset over the water at the spacious Chesapeake Mansion, a waterfront estate just outside St. Michaels, Maryland. Situated on 30 acres, the renovated, 12,000-square-foot Colonial manor can accommodate up to 12 guests. Enjoy an outdoor heated pool, private dock and wide grassy lawn with Adirondack chairs—perfect for a summer evening of caftans and cocktails. Rates begin around $1,100 per night.
Arlington writer and small business owner Adrienne Wichard-Edds recognizes her luck at finding this group of powerful women. Find her online at theessaycoaches.com.