Monday, April 16, 2012

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.