neither here nor there

‘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.

The koi pond at Honor Mansion.

The stained glass windows on the other side of which is our perfect bathroom. The pond is bordered by those rocks you see.

Nearby parkland.

Real flowers from the garden. Really.

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.

On to the wine country.

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?!?

more.

On Tuesday, no call from The French Laundry.

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.

shadows.

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.

A view from Zellerbach.

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.

Looking for Travis Corns, College Graduate.

Line ’em up.

With his sister…

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.

These pictures are here for the Mom…

Hurray!

Fortunatly I had enough napkins to share with Lubi.

You, you’re the one.