One Word...

Anyone who has seen the classic film "The Graduate" will remember the now iconic scene where a family friend pulls the young graduate aside and in an almost Zen-like manner, uses one simple word to advise him on the path to a future of success and prosperity.  One word... "plastics".

There is an equally memorable scene in the film "Sleepless in Seattle" where Rob Reiner's character is giving the Tom Hank's character a primer on the do's and don'ts of modern dating.  At the end, he closes by saying that success on any date can be guaranteed, advising with one simple word.  Just one.  The word... "tiramisu".

I'm having an equally poignant moment right now in life, reducible to one simple yet all-enveloping word.  And that word right now is...

"Bombolini".

Look it up.

Foraging in West Marin

A day after hosting friends at our new home, we climbed into the trusty Subaru (just in time for the Sunday morning airing of Car Talk on NPR) and made our once monthly pilgrimage to what has become a very regular day trip locale for us through the years, West Marin. In what was the first truly spectacular day of Spring, we strolled through downtown San Anselmo in perfect 68 degree sun. Had a nice time browsing through the eclectic stores on the main street including a great Midcentury Modern furniture store, a charming bric-a-brac shop with Jonathan Adler dog accessories, an awesome independent bookstore, and some great cafes with outdoor seating. Families were out in force as were countless cyclists. Our little guy was adored up and down the street as kids would point and exclaim "doggy!" and elderly gentlemen would stop and crouch down to stroke his coat. For one morning, he was the unofficial mayor of town.

We made our now very familiar way down Sir Francis Drake to Olema and Highway 1. Today would be a day of foodie foraging in West Marin. Strong coffee and spicy ginger scone at the coffee stand in front of the barn at Toby's Hay & Feed in Point Reyes Station. Browsing the Sunday Chronicle with all the other locals on the picnic benches just outside the barn entry near the pen of baby chicks and the fragrant bales of hay, early sun bathing us in warmth. The air crisp with the scent of fog and ocean spray. Scenic drive up the highway, alongside picturesque Tomales Bay with the shoreline of Inverness and the Point Reyes seashore off in the distance, shrouded in dense fog. The little guy would lean against us with every curve of the road, distracted occasionally by a cluster of grazing Holsteins on an emerald green hillside. We stop at our much anticipated roadside stand. The Marshall Store for a half dozen freshly shucked oysters and de rigeur half dozen BBQ'd oysters on the rickety wooden deck near the pier, about a dozen sailboats moored in the gently lapping waters of Tomales with the inlet to the Pacific off in the horizon. We hunker down on the Adirondacks, gentle breeze on our faces and the sound of lapping water beneath the deck, the early afternoon sun now at full strength. Life is good.

We reluctantly make our way back, stopping to console ourselves with an afternoon snack at Cowgirl Creamery. A scoop of chocolate ice cream for T. A tasty bowl of red beet soup for me. And some meaty provisions from the butcher counter at Marin Sun Farms. We must try their steak frites special next time around.

The little guy sleeps soundly the entire drive back.

Poop and Scoop

On one of the more pleasant days this year, we took the little guy on a nice walk around Lake Temescal in the Rockridge neighborhood of Oakland. It's a small bucolic sliver of peace and tranquility hidden amidst a busy highway and a bustling commercial district. The ducks and geese are always in residence as are the friendly residents from nearby Piedmont and Montclair with their Fido's in tow. After a mile walk (or more appropriately, strut), he's pooped... in every sense of that word.

Afterwards, we let him nap away in the car, and we treated ourselves to the all-you-can-eat Korean BBQ special at nearby Ohgane. The spicy pork was especially tasty, wrapped in lettuce and garlic cloves. Oh god yes. And at $20 per person, it's a real bargain.

Feeling especially nostalgic, we drove a couple streets over to Piedmont Avenue and enjoyed a gargantuan scoop of vintage hand-made ice cream at Fenton's. At 118 years of continuous operation, Fenton's is an East Bay institution, one that I still remember with fondness from my years at Cal. The softball-sized scoop of Rocky Road on a sugar cone is a longtime favorite. Campus standby Yogurt Park just didn't do it for me back then. So much so that I would find ways to lasso friends with wheels to make the twenty minute drive out to Oaktown. Just another excuse to ditch the snoozer "Intro to Materials Engineering" lecture for a spontaneous day trip to the outer realm, orbited by the celestial gifts of Zachary's Pizza and Fenton's Creamery. What an upgrade from the more earthly and pedestrian Blondie's and Yogurt Park. The scoop is just as good as I remember it.

Welcome to the Neighborhood

Our new house sits at the base of a vast expanse of hilly open space, so it came as no surprise that our first welcome to the neighborhood came not from the Smiths or the Joneses but rather from the Quails. A group of roughly ten to fifteen California quail make an almost daily stopover in the hillside brush of our backyard. Much like penguins, they prefer to walk and nest in the ground brush rather than in trees. At our island home near Seattle, we would see wildlife every single day. Deer, eagles, hawks, wild pheasant, cormorants, pelicans, otters, sea lions, harbor seals, coyotes, and on a rare occasion, orcas off the nearby beach. Appears our little terrier will continue to have a coterie of critter guests. The tail is wagging mightily.

Adieu 2011

The last year brought a couple of very important changes to our lives. The most immediate is that I am "back" in Northern California, having spent the past several years in the Pacific Northwest. Portland, Seattle, and Vancouver will remain very much in my heart. While the market at the SF Ferry Building is nice, it's no Pike Place or Granville Island Market. And let's not mention the coffee issue, Blue Bottle notwithstanding. Something about the water up there. The second major change in 2011 is that we bought a larger spread in a very nice town in the Bay Area, if for no better reason than to allow our precocious Norwich terrier the space to run to his heart's delight. That and we needed the extra rooms to house all the books accumulated over the years from caffeine-induced spending sprees at Powell's and Elliott Bay. Now if we had room for the kayaks... and all the umbrellas.

Now that I am replanting my flag back in the People's Republic of California, the lights on this long dormant weblog have been switched back on. I'll be cleaning off the cobwebs and sanding down the rust from five years of dormancy.