Berkeley and a graduation extravaganza for Travis Corns, then wine country with Nancy, and The French Laundry.
An odd photo to kick off this trip… There I was in Fresno not taking any pictures because it was HOT (why is it that when I leave Santa Monica heat trails me like a persistent and ill mannered stalker?) and also because I was unprepared. Just driving around Fresno was not proving very scenic.
But then, in a wide open city park, a small group of family and friends are preparing for a wedding that will take place under this beautiful arbor.
Why event photographers should be rich and why I am not an event photographer.
Here is a perfectly lovely and not to be repeated, moment – the nervous groom getting help with his tie. And here is a picture of the perfectly lovely moment unredeemably Out Of Focus.
These pix I snapped out the car window, just holding up the camera and hoping for the best, while roaring through the Altamont Pass at ‘flow of traffic’ speed. It was plenty windy for sure!
A visit to Berkeley is no visit at all without a Top Dog. And inside this joint it is exactly the same.
I promised Travis that I would never not even once during his graduation weekend ever utter the phrase ‘back when I was in Berkeley’ and I did keep my word. There is however an expression I heard many times from different people and under unexpected circumstances, which is ‘back in the day’. As in ‘this place is exactly the same as it was back in the day’ and ‘back in the day you still couldn’t find a place to park’ and ‘oh, I heard you were here back in the day’.
I’m thinking that when they are speaking about back-in-the-day it is like they are speaking about the Hoover administration – so long ago the details hardly matter.
Ken and Jeanne came in to Berkeley from their Eden in the Trees so we could all visit for a few hours. Awww.
Lubi stayed with me at the Hotel Durant. Built in the 1920s, it’s a fine historic place one and a half blocks from the Telegraph entrance to campus. Proud, dressed up parents of Berkeley graduates have been staying at the Hotel Durant for generations. The staff looked like kids randomly chosen from the line at Top Dog next door but in fact everything about the service was a-one. So impressive in fact that I even filled out the comment form.
Melissa and Melinda and two of Travis’s friends met us at the hotel early in the am so we could walk over to the graduation all together.
At the first dramatic cord of Pomp and Circumstance there I was, hand to eye, wiping away the welling up of tears. Why? Maybe for the same reason I cry at the first downbeat of the overture to West Side Story – because you just know what is coming next.
In this case, all the cheers and tears, all the efforts of the past and hopes for the future of families from everywhere in every circumstance themselves, gathered in praise and grateful thanks and blah blah blah.
The sister, the friend, the thrilled mother, the College Graduate, the cousin, the brother. This large and happy fellowship went on to a festive lunch in Berkeley and I headed across the bay to meet Nancy.
Denise and Nancy in San Fran for a cozy family lunch along with Josh and Kelly.
Josh and Kelly, the soon to be parents of Nancy’s bunny grandchild. Oh yeah, Grandma Nancy. You go girl.
In Josh and Kelly’s apartment. It was all so San Fran-funk I almost said back-in-the-day. I didn’t, but I could have, I didn’t promise Them anything…
We rode up in the elevator with two plenty colorful characters, this man, koi shirt guy being one of them and the other one called himself Hoover. They ordered drinks and then koi fish guy proceeded to hassle Hoover, saying how he was not being American enough even after all these years. Then he left. It was all no doubt a drill they had gone through several dozen times before.
Hoover was much older and at the first opportunity came to our table to tell us a long meandering story about pre-WW II (back-in-the-day?) when he was a steward flying a trans-pacific route. There was some most obscure tie in to some previously mentioned word – not a topic mind you, just a word – that kicked off this story. Then he wanted to buy us drinks.
According to koi shirt guy these are Chinatown fund raisers ‘druming up some donations’.
Desda moved her office into town from the Big City (of Petaluma?). It is just as warm and charming as you’d imagine.
Bob and Desda’s gardens are so full of fabulousness. I did notice later however that in every Single piece of ground north of SF roses were in mad riotous bloom. Huge, multi-headed blooms mostly and they were Everywhere. Must be something in the air…
After Desda cut up and attempted to burn her stash of credit cards she used the pieces to form this crown of shame and hung it in the dining room to create a constant reminder that she would never Ever find herself in such debt again.
Confessions were made, penance was done, forgiveness was granted.
This little chickie stole our hearts and so Nancy was of course obliged to buy buy buy. This wine chick was just Bursting with perkiness. Goofy ha! ha! silly gigglegiggle perky Perky girl.
We are indeed in wine country.
At this point I am starting to get twitchy about our potential dinner at The French Laundry. Less than a week before, when I decided to take this trip and Nancy invited me to join her here, I thought wow, The French Laundry, despite the legendary three month wait for reservations. So I asked Toni if he could use his endless connections to get us in. Sure he said, if the restaurant is open he could manage it.
And then when I called the restaurant on Friday to confirm (Toni did have the direct number, which of course I cannot reveal) the woman said yes we have you right here, number one on our priority wait list, we’ll call you for Tuesday or Wednesday if there is a cancellation. If there is a cancellation? Wait list?? Cancellation?? What’s With That?!?
Who could resist? And why is this guy out here at all anyway? We spotted two of them as we were driving by and had to make a special trip back for the photo-op. Notice that tail feather. You can surely see the hat-appeal.
And they have these giGantic bald legs. Imagine a turkey’s leg from the grocery store then stretch it waaay out and bulk it up so the thigh joint is as big as your head. There, now you have it.
This is our private entrance to our private cottage at Honor Mansion in Healsburg(sp?). You could Not think of Any hotel amenity that was not available in this place.
Wednesday, no call from The French Laundry, I call and they say this: all but one reservation has confirmed but we’ll let you know if anything changes. So I’m worked up all right. How can you say No Problem and then there IS a problem? I plot my speech to Toni. We make other plans.
The stained glass windows on the other side of which is our perfect bathroom. The pond is bordered by those rocks you see.
Jordan winery, one of many Many here in what they call ‘the valley’.
So there we are at the movies because it was HOT, watching Raising Victor Vargas at 6pm and my cell phone rings. I rush out of the theater. ‘We have an opening at 9pm if you can make it.’ Fine.
At Last, can it BE, we are Here at the Temple of the very God of American cookery. Here we are at, Yes it is true, The French Laundry.
Our perfect waiter. If you are Not a serious foodie, this is the end of the trip and you can now be done. If you Are a serious foodie and have some intellectual interest in The Temple, read on.
What follows is the Chef’s Tasting Menu on May 28. Before the first course comes this ‘traditional greeting’ of a four inch cookie folded into a cone. Inside is slightly thickened and sweetened cream and on the top is salmon tartar formed into a ball, like a little ice cream cone. As a first offering it rather set off the tone of the whole meal. You’ll see why.
Also notice how each dish is surrounded by an intensly rich sauce. Concoctions of local ingredients in richly flavored sauces is the signature of The French Laundry. And all the sweet? I have no idea.
‘Oysters and Pearls’. Sabayon of pearl tapioca with Bagaduce oysters and Iranian Osetra caviar.
Among the single most perfect tastes I have ever been blessed enough to enjoy.
Marinated Holland white asparagus, roasted baby beets and Perigord truffle syrup.
Alas, watery and boring.
Crispy skin filet of Atlantic black bass, roasted spring onions, medjool dates and black pepper gastrique.
The sweet onions and sweeter dates contributed to sweet being the dominant flavor and sticky being the dominant texture.
Sweet butter braised Maine lobster, globe artichokes, oven roasted Roma tomatoes, Picholine olives, fresh basil and spicy lobster broth.
Rather naturally sweet and all those ingredients did play nicely together.
‘Un Paquet de Rillettes de Lapin’, wilted Savoyard spinach and Banyuls vinegar glazed apples.
There was enough of the meat, tasty if a bit dry, to absorb the fact that the apples and sauce were, despite the vinegar, sweet.
This dish was a replacement for the veal so I don’t have the menu description. It’s beef and potatoes with truffles.
Can it be… the truffles tasted canned. I Must be wrong. Not at The Temple!
‘Brescianella Stagionata’, with caponata and basil-infused extra virgin olive oil.
The cheese was good. The caponata was too much and too sweet. How do you make caponata taste sweet?
And now came the desserts. There were four desserts all together. Can you imagine? I was trying to remember what one was to do once insulin shock had set in.
Maui pineapple sorbet with a toasted coconut financier.
That flowery thing is a toasted pineapple which was nice and the cupcake kind of thing was Very nice.
‘Delice au Chocolat et Caramel’ with caramel anglaise and chocolate dentelle.
Perversly, I liked this one. The dark chocolate was rich and just bitter enough. The cream inside was velvety and not too cloying.
Following these two desserts the waiter brought us each two more. Oh yes, we were begging for mercy.
Nancy volunteered to designatedly drive so I drank this delicious half bottle Myself. Nancy ordered off the prix fixe five course menu and her dishes were overall much more successful than the tasting menu. I wonder though – whatever you do, don’t miss the breathtaking ‘Oysters and Pearls’?
The two butters were fun. One was local and one was from Vermont. We were eating them with a spoon.
We then waddled our way back into the room and I, still very much in the waddle, left the next morning for home and a quiet dinner of Cheerios and milk.
