Mendocino is one of a string of quaint little seaside towns that dot California’s North Coast. Located a couple hours’ drive north of San Francisco, Mendocino was first settled by people from America’s northwest and as a result has something of a New England feel to it.
During the 19th century timber was king in Northern California. With the passing of the timber industry artists and craftspeople were drawn to the oceanside village. Today the town itself is a great place to shop, eat gourmet food and stay in a bed and breakfast. If you’re a wine sipper its the place for you. From November through April you can watch the gray whale migration. AND it’s pretty darn dog friendly. Continue reading
The shaggy rocker Rod Stewart told us in song that “every picture tells a story.” There are a myriad of stories to be found in Lafayette Cemetery but the pictures only tell a part of the story, just enough to wet the appetite. So, unlike the last post about Lafayette Cemetery which was mostly photos, we’re going to throw in a little taste of history and a travel tip or two.
something that is easy to do or accomplish: Fixing the car will be duck soup for anyone with the right tool
Duck Soup – A 1933 film starring the Marx Brothers in which Rufus T. Firefly (Groucho Marx) is named president/dictator of bankrupt Freedonia and declares war on neighboring Sylvania over the love of wealthy Mrs. Teasdale. An hour and 8 minutes of nonstop puns. If you’re familiar with the movie then chances are you’re either an old movie buff or you’re just plain old. Unfortunately I’m the latter.
Duck Soup – A new Friday Fotos starring – ducks of course. And for your added comedic pleasure and a chance to roll your eyes over corny humor, I’ve interspersed some puns from the movie.
Pinole Creek Wetlands
The next town over from average no-town (because we don’t have a downtown) Hercules where I live, is Pinole where there’s a recreation path that follows Pinole Creek to San Pablo Bay and acres of wetlands. A hike on that path can be just ducky.
Rufus T. Firefly: Not that I care, but where is your husband?
Mrs. Teasdale: Why, he’s dead.
Rufus T. Firefly: I bet he’s just using that as an excuse.
Mrs. Teasdale: I was with him to the very end.
Rufus T. Firefly: No wonder he passed away.
Mrs. Teasdale: I held him in my arms and kissed him.
Rufus T. Firefly: Oh, I see, then it was murder.
Cabinet Member: We need to take up the tax.
Rufus T. Firefly: I’d like to take up the carpet.
Cabinet Member: I still insist we take up the tax.
Rufus T. Firefly: He’s right – you’ve gotta take up the tacks before you can take up the carpet.
Going for a late morning swim
Rufus T. Firefly: I could dance with you until the cows come home. On second thought, I’d rather dance with the cows till you come home.
If you have an itch you scratch …. errr, bite.
Rufus T. Firefly: Oh, uh, I suppose you would think me a sentimental old fluff, but, uh, would you mind giving me lock of your hair?
Mrs. Teasdale: A lock of my hair? Wh-why, I had no idea.
Rufus T. Firefly: I’m letting you off easy: I was going to ask for the whole wig.
Peek a boo
Rufus T. Firefly: Oh, I’m sick of messages from the front. Don’t we ever get a message from the side? – What is it?
Bob Roland: General Smith reports a gas attack. He wants to know what to do.
Rufus T. Firefly: Tell him to take a teaspoonful of bicarbonate of soda and a half a glass of water.
This wasn’t what I intended. I’d hoped to get more light on the ducks but daylight was waning and so I ended up with silhouettes of the ducks against a reflection of the sky and some clouds. In the end I like the effect.
And finally, below, the Duck Soup piece de resistance. When I heard this pun I laughed so hard and so long I thought I was going to wet my pants (which depending on your point of view is either a good or bad reflection on yours truly).
[Firefly and Mrs. Teasdale hear music coming from downstairs]
Mrs. Teasdale: What’s that?
Rufus T. Firefly: Sounds to me like mice.
Mrs. Teasdale: Mice? Mice don’t play music.
Rufus T. Firefly: No? How about the old maestro?
Go forth and have a great weekend but make sure you have your ducks in a row.
Welcome to my first recipe post in the category Hot (or cold) Outta the Kitchen. We’ll see how this goes. If it doesn’t end well then this will be the first recipe post and the last recipe post.
And yes indeed, there is an actual recipe in this post but you have to work your way through the back story because any recipe worth its salt or any of the other ingredients should have a story to give it those extra notes of flavor. Jack; what can I say about Jack? Howabout, Jack was one of the lights of the office; easy going, gregarious, a great sense of humor and never down, at least not that anyone could ever tell. Jack was the kind of person that every office needs. The one who lets you forget that you’re at work, speeds up the clock and binds the rabble together into a team. Jack was a coworker of mine many, many years ago, and we’re talking 1980’s. I guess that he lasted a year or two with the company, a supplier of industrial equipment, and then he moved with his wife to her home country of Japan. I’ve searched for Jack through social media with no luck. We kept in touch for a brief time with postcards and letters and then the tie broke. Jack had something of a kooky streak. An inside sales guy with a different approach. Being in supply I just listened with one ear and giggled as Jack plied his own singular offbeat trade. I’m not sure management was always comfortable with this chatty and eccentric salesman. From what I could tell, the customers seemed to love him. Paul (no not this Paulie), the general manager was a young dweeby guy who finagled his management position through the time honored (?) route of cronyism. Straight out of college he found himself in the deep end of the corporate pool trying to hold his head above the waters that often had him slipping beneath the surface when sales figures took a dive. And so he pushed hard on the sales staff to come up with innovative ways to keep our customers engaged. Enter Jack and the recipes. Jack, chin resting between thumb and forefinger put his unconventional mind to work and conjured up his grand strategy. “You want innovation, I’ll give you innovation.” And so he added recipes to his sales pitch, the first one being for guacamole. Because what says industrial equipment like a recipe for a Mexican dip? Right? And so he typed, yes typed because there were no computers or word processors in our office in those bygone days, a recipe and then made scores of photocopies and then hand cut them down to size to mail and or fax to customers. I can’t recall how that went over with Paul but the rest of us thought it was great; more in terms of amusement than as a viable sales tool. I also can’t recall how many different recipes Jack actually launched form the building but the one I am certain of is Jack’s Barbary Coast Guacamole. I’m certain of it because I have an original copy of Jacks Guac in my possession – a first edition if you will. Thirty something years old and stained by avocado and other ingredients it’s become something of a cherished document, sort of like having an original copy of the Constitution. Okay that was hyperbole. I pulled out the recipe the other day to make guacamole for a party we had. It was, as it usually is, a big hit. I multiplied the recipe by three to be sure that we had plenty and before many of the guests arrived all that was left was just enough to stain the the edge of a chip. It’s good stuff. As we prepared for the party I took a sample to make sure it was just right and proclaimed to anyone who would listen that “My guacamole is so good that they call it holy moly.” No response “Tough crowd.” I said. My daughter who was busy baking desserts offered, “I just thought I’d let that one pass.” Later on she approached me, “The guacamole is really good.”
“Yeah, holy moly,” I responded.
She rolled her eyes, turned on her heels and walked away shaking her head. My grandson Jackson, whose finicky tastes puts a cat to shame, said “That’s the best guacamole ever.” Wherever you are Jack my former colleague you’re still making ‘em smile. So here for everyone to enjoy is Jack’s Barbary Coast Guacamole exactly as it appears on my stained copy. (With a few of my own changes in italics). Continue reading
“Ewwwww,” that’s morbid.” That was the reaction of a friend of mine when I told her that during our trip to New Orleans we visited the Lafayette Cemetery.
“Why would you want to go to a cemetery?” Why indeed. First of all they’re unique for the fact that since New Orleans is built below sea level underground burial is a non starter so the deceased are entombed in raised chambers. Secondly, they are historic sites and major tourist attractions. Lafayette Cemetery opened for it’s melancholy business in 1833, before the city of Lafayette became a part of New Orleans. Known as cities of the dead, the cemeteries are laid out in a grid plan with “streets” or “lanes” that run at right angles forming city blocks of buildings just like many typical cities. Only these cities house the deceased.
“You will be haunted,” resumed the Ghost, “by Three Spirits.” ~ A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
Gumbo is on the menu for Christmas Eve this year but that really has little or nothing to do with this post. It’s the panetonne that’s important. How are panetonne and gumbo related? Well, not at all. I’m talking about the store display. Okay, I’ll get to it. While I was at the store shopping for ingredients for the gumbo, there in prominent display near the front of the store was a stack of those distinctive trapezoidal boxes that could contain only one thing – panetonne. I guess you could call panetonne a sort of brioche dotted with candied fruits and raisins with its roots in Milan but if there’s someone out there with a better description then please fire away. I could never properly describe it to my childhood friends besides to inform then that panetonne was one of the most delicious of holiday treats.
Near the store display of panetonne was another, this one stacked with other cakes and sweets from Italy. It seems that Italy is now a Christmas sensation – as it should be. Italy is mom’s mother country and it gave my family, to this day although now diminished, many holiday traditions and memories. For instance there was il pacco. Continue reading
The second day of our little central coast trip was spent exploring the region south of Half Moon Bay. Twenty minutes south of Half Moon Bay is Pescadero State Beach. Twenty minutes that is if you take Highway 1 along the coast which ia a beautiful drive, passing bright green fields of artichokes and brussels sprouts and the blue Pacific coastline itself. For a little rustic variety you can hit the Stage Road cut off just north of San Gregorio State Beach. San Gregorio is a pleasant sandy beach surrounded by bluffs which ward off some of the coastal breezes. An adjoining estuary is home to birds and small wildlife.
If nature is your thing then you can get really close to nature at the private clothing optional beach that you can access off a little road between Stage Road and the state beach. There’s a fee for parking. It’s a long sandy stretch of beach that has high bluffs on the land side. Legend has it that this beach, opened in 1967, was the first nude beach in America.
Allow me to digress for a moment while I reminisce.
Denise was the first love of my life. We met in Spanish class at the local College of San Mateo. On warm summer days we would often go to the beach. At some point we heard rumors about this nude beach about 15 minutes south of Half Moon Bay. Being young and inquisitive we figured, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained, let’s check it out.” Well we thought that this nude beach thing was the greatest invention since the wheel so the beach became our hang out that we never dared to tell our parents about-particularly hers. I still shudder to think about her conservative, born and raised in the south dad’s reaction if he found out we were not only baring all in front of each other but in front of God and everyone.
The first time we went out there Denise was a little careless with the sunscreen and burned her bottom- badly. We got home and her mom gave her a playful slap on the rear making Denise stifle a scream and leading us to wonder if her mom had some sort of clairvoyance, “She couldn’t possibly know could she?” For about a week, Denise wore the loosest pants she could find.
Denise and I were on track to get married until the day when she took me aside and said, “We have to break up because I’m a lesbian.” Well surprise, surprise, surprise. Over the many years I’ve made countless vows and resolutions and like many people I’ve managed not to keep most of them. It was about then that I figured that getting into a romantic relationship with a lesbian wouldn’t have much of a future so then and there I resolved never to do that again. I’ve managed to keep that resolution.
You know that whole small world thing? I guess that it was about 9 years after we broke up that I happened to see Denise at the corner of Mission and Fourth Streets in San Francisco. We talked for a few minutes and set up a date to meet for dinner. We got together at Hamburger Mary’s, talked over old times and caught up on the intervening years. After dinner we went our separate ways. I’ve not seen or heard from her since. I hope she’s well and regret we never kept in touch.
Back to Stage Road.
The drive along Stage Road is winding and narrow over rolling hills and Cora, true to nature, wasn’t happy about it. Despite her nervousness she allowed that the scenery was picturesque. Heading south, Stage Road dips and curves and then arrives at the little burg of San Gregorio, which consists of a small handful of buildings and some local farms. On the right just before the intersection with La Honda Road is the San Gregorio General Store.
The morning sun peeks out from behind the coastal hills behind a San Gregorio farm. This picture was taken the morning after the massive Butte County Camp Fire started over 200 miles away to the northwest. Note the haze from the smoke.
The San Gregorio General Store is a trip back in time when a small general merchandise emporium would provide a variety of necessities for the local residents. If merchandise isn’t what you’re looking for, then go in to warm up at the pot bellied stove or have a sandwich and a drink at the bar, or on weekends listen to some live music. The best description comes from the San Gregorio General website.Saloon, lanterns, seeds, no television, U.S. Post Office, cast iron cookware, aspirin, advice, wines fine to rot gut, western and work clothing, groceries, hardware, bullshit, toys, cowtechnician hats, international beers, beeswax, cheesecloth, piano in-tune, books (literature, poetry, gender and environmental politics), homemade sandwiches, diapers, crockery, weather analysis, coal hods, raccoon traps, tequila (18 flavors), posters, cards, tee shirts, buttons, candles, rain gear, organic garlic, apples and butternut squash in season, live music (Irish R&B, bluegrass, original everything else).
At the corner of La Honda Road and Stage Road is the deteriorating stage stop which in the 19th century was a busy saloon and inn for people taking the stagecoach south from San Francisco. Standing there before this old building you wonder what it was like in its heyday when travelers would alight from the stagecoach, brush off the dust and go inside for a drink and a bite while outside horses whinnied, their rigging jangled and the teamsters and wranglers shouted and cursed as they went about their business. At one time it must have been an important junction, now it’s just a ramshackle old wooden relic from another time – a curiosity that most people along this route might give a nod and a glance at as they continue on their way.
San Gregorio Stage Stop
The drive along Stage Road continues for about 20 minutes until the road dead ends at the little town of Pescadero at Pescadero Creek Road.
The two main attractions in town are the Arcangeli Grocery Company, a small food store and deli that dates back to 1929 and Duarte’s Tavern, established in 1894 as a saloon and barbershop.
Aracangeli Grocery is known for its sandwiches and its herb and artichoke breads. We took home a take and bake loaf. If you can’t get to the store you can buy online at the Arcangeli website.
At Duarte’s the barbershop is gone but the old timey saloon is still there adjoining the small dining room which serves good food from locally sourced purveyors. Cora and I stopped for a tasty lunch at this James Beard Award winner. I had their cream of artichoke soup and a calamari steak sandwich. Cora had an appetizer order of fried calamari and a bowl of gumbo. Check out Duarte’s websitefor more information.
Below: Views of the quiet Pescadero farmlands.
Heading west on Pescadero Creek Road you run into two jewels of nature, Pescadero State Beach and Pescadero Marsh Preserve.
On occasion dad would suggest a trip to Pescadero Beach. Mom fried the chicken and packed some side dishes and we took the drive south to picnic. After lunch mom would lay out in the sun and dad and I would clamor over the rocks to check out the tide pools. Occasionally we would walk over to chat with some of the fishermen casting out into the ocean. I don’t know that we ever met a fisherman who’d caught something fishing from those wave swept rocks.
On our trip we stopped to observe the shore birds, including the hundreds of pelicans on the offshore rocks. Early the following day I ventured out at sunrise to take pictures of the birds and hike one of the trails of the marsh.
It looks like this Black Oystercatcher is giving me the evil eye
Sandpipers on the rocks at Pescadero Beach
Pescadero Marsh Preserve which lies on the eastern side of Highway 1 has four hiking trails that wind along the waterways and through the brilliant red pickleweed. Sixty species of birds nest in the preserve. Other species include garter snakes, the California red-legged frog, tidewater goby, steelhead trout and Coho salmon.
The trails are short and mostly flat and can be easily explored in an afternoon. Docent led hikes are available on weekends.
Morning sun reflects off the waters of Pescadero Marsh and lights up the red pickleweed
Acres of pickleweed brighten Pescadero Marsh
A bright caterpillar makes its way along a bush
Pigeon Point
Six miles south of Pescadero Beach on Highway 1 is the Pigeon Point Light Station. At 115 feet tall, the lighthouse, first lit in 1872 is one of the tallest in America. It sits on a point of land that was originally called La Punta de la Ballena (Whale Point). The name was changed to Pigeon Point after the clipper ship Carrier Pigeon got lost in the fog and ran aground nearby.
At the lightstation there is a boardwalk that leads to an overlook where visitors can view birds, the crashing waves and elephant seals. If you happen to be there during the months of January through April you might be able to spot Gray Whales on their migration.
If you want to stay overnight at the point, there is a hostel where you can stay in a dorm style environment or in a private room.
Just north and south of the light station are beaches that are accessible to the public.
After sunset Cora and I headed back to our motel in Half Moon Bay. She had a steaming bowl of soup from a small Mexican restaurant nearby while I went north to the Half Moon Bay Brewing Company to get a fresh from the tap growler of one of their many beers that you can find listed on their website. Click the link forHalf Moon Bay Brewing Company.
Here in the San Francisco Bay Area we have boats and plenty of them. That’s because here in the San Francisco Bay Area we have water and plenty of it; bays, marinas, piers, sloughs, docks, landings, wetlands, the blue Pacific and San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf. There are endless possibilities for photographing boats and ships. So I get myself out of bed early, tell my dog Lexi “time to get up” and we head out to find boats at sunrise.
Hey Lexi its time to wake up!
Here’s a little sampling for Friday Fotos.
South Beach, San Francisco.
South Beach is that area of bay shore in San Francisco that is bordered by the Ferry Building on the north which houses the bustling Farmer’s Market and AT&T Park (Home of the San Francisco Giants baseball team) to the south. The busy bayside promenade is an excellent place to run (all the way to the Golden Gate Bridge if you want), relax in one of the small parks or have a nice meal in one of the many restaurants. If you have a boat and plenty of money you can dock your boat at the South Beach Marina.
Sunrise over the bay at the South Beach Marina
South Beach is one of my favorite places to to catch a sunrise. If I’m fortunate to remain late enough on a Saturday morning I can have a breakfast of house made corn beef hash and eggs at the iconic Red’s Java House. Red’s has a history that goes back to the 1930’s serving hearty grub to longshoremen when San Francisco was a bustling port town. Back then the breakfast special was a cheeseburger and a beer – hey it was noon somewhere – right? Follow the link to Red’s Java House.
Wisps of fog hang over a ship on a bronze sunrise. Taken from South Beach.
Emeryille, California
On the eastern side of San Francisco Bay is Emeryville, the last little city before you hit the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge to San Francisco.
Looking for some dawn photo opportunities I found one particular boat that caught my eye and not so much for the boat as its handle – Endurance. Seemed appropriate as I’ve been a runner for most of my 65 years and the Emeryville Marina has been a favorite running haunt.
I’ve caught Endurance a few times. This one was during a golden sunrise
And this one under a sky tinted pink
Besides being a nice place to run, the Emeryville Marina is a nice place to spend some quiet time. There are little wooded areas with places to picnic; you can gaze at the San Francisco skyline across the bay; you can try your luck at fishing (though I wouldn’t eat ANYTHING out of that water) or you can just bring your book, read and look up now and then to listen to the sounds of the bay.
Masts reflect on a blue morning
The Emeryville Marina is also home to a legendary tiki bar, Trader Vic’s started by Vic Bergeron who claimed to be the inventor of the Mai Tai. If you like bamboo, rataan and tiki heads then this is the place for you. Sit at the bar and have some pupus and a concoction that will sneak up on you and get you hammered before you realize that you’ve been drinking 3 kinds of rum mixed with tropical juices.
Cora and I have had a forgettable 2018. It started with my recovery from a broken foot and then went right into her bout of cancer and the subsequent surgery and chemotherapy. By October the dust was settling and by November it was time to take a short trip.
Half Moon Bay, California on the central Pacific Coast is about a one hour drive from our house in the San Francisco Bay Area’s northeast region. Half Moon Bay was our base of operations from which we explored Pillar Point Harbor about 15 minutes north to the environs of Pescadero about 30 minutes south of Half Moon Bay.Continue reading
What looks like a waterfall is actually a flow of water from the crater of the now dormant Excelsior geyser at the Midway Geyser Basin, a place which Rudyard Kipling once described as “Hell’s Half Acre.” The crater measures out at 276 x 328 feet and dumps 199 degree (F) water into the Firehole River at a rate of 4000 gallons per minute. During it’s active period in the 19th century Excelsior’s spectacular eruptions would reach a a height of 300 feet. In 1985, Excelsior erupted to a height of 55 feet, an eruption that lasted for two days. It last erupted in 1988.
The Life in My Years 