Trazzler Honorable Mention: Fremont Peak State Park {Catch-Up}

I began submitting images to trazzler.com earlier in the year - for their weekly photo contests - and thought I should play catch-up and let you know how I've been doing. This image received an honorable mention...

Fremont Peak, San Juan Bautista, California

(trazzler.com deadline of February 1, 2012) 

ABOVE THE CLOUDS

A drive up to Fremont Peak State Park feels other-worldly. On many of the trails you look down on the clouds that muffle the noise of the roads below. It feels peaceful, serene, and remote despite the relative ease of your journey there. On certain nights, there are guided star-gazing tours led by knowledgeable volunteers. And you really feel like you're in heaven then, with the stars seemingly right at your fingertips.

Sipping Wine Among the Vines: Touring Holman Vineyards {Edible Monterey Bay}

This is posted on the Edible Monterey Bay blog: here. (July 2012)

Wine tasting is always enjoyable. Gaining access to a winery’s cave is a treat. But to receive an invitation into the vineyards is an oenophile’s dream come true. At least it’s this wine‐lover’s dream. And, this week, for the first time Holman Vineyards opened up their gates and invited their wine club members and guests to take a stroll through the vines. Rocky soil beneath your feet, fresh summer air, and sun‐baked hills that stretch as far as the eye can see, and—of course—a glass of wine in hand made for a truly charming vineyard tour.

Nick Elliott, Guest Services Manager at Holman Ranch, met us at the Holman Vineyards’ tasting room in the Carmel Valley village and four of us loaded up into his vehicle. On the way Nick gave us a history of Holman Ranch and talked to us about the vineyards that are planted on 19 of the 400 acres that make up the Ranch. We wound through the property, up a dirt road, and headed to the lower vineyard of Pinot Noir grapes that were planted in 2007 and sits at approximately 1100 feet elevation.

Before we even set foot through the final gate, Nick broke out his corkscrew, distributed glasses, and poured us each a generous portion of their 2010 Pinot Gris. The slightly fruity aroma swirled with notes of mango and honey, but the whisper of citrus created a crisp finish. It made me wish that we had some ceviche—tender chunks of fish marinated in lime juice and spiced with fresh peppers—to go with it.

As we sipped the wine, we walked through the olive grove which Holman harvests to produce its extra-virgin olive oil. We paused and Nick pointed out the different kinds of olives. The Italian trees on the right were taller and the leaves had a dusty sage hue to them while the French olive trees on the left were stouter with brighter green leaves. Holman hand‐harvests and cold presses the olives, bottling the oil onsite and offering them for sale at the tasting room and through the company’s website.

Reaching a slight plateau, we stopped, tasted more of our wine, and soaked up the evening sun, reveling in the 360‐degree view from that vantage point. All around us were Pinot Noir Dijon clones 667 and 777, acres of them.

To me, Pinot Noir means ‘love’; it’s definitely my wine of choice and Holman Vineyard’s 2010 ranks high on my list. Aged in French oak for a year, it’s a full‐bodied red with robust cherry on the nose and a slight earthy layer of tobacco. It’s luscious.

In French, Pinot Noir literally means “black pine” and refers to the pinecone shape of the grape bunch on the vine. These bunches were still green, but will ripen and be prime for picking in less than a month.
Nick noted slight differences in bunches from one end of the row to the other and discussed how the terrain affected the grapes. We were standing on sedimentary soil where the larger chunks of rocks and slope of the vineyard aided drainage for the vines. The grape bunches on the steeper end of the row were slightly larger and contained plumper fruit than those on the more level ground.

Moving from the rows of clone 667 to clone 777, Nick showed us the difference in the leaves. The leaves of the 667 were smaller and had five lobes while the 777 leaves had only three lobes and were significantly larger. Nick asked, “Can you imagine rolling these leaves into dolmas?” I definitely can.

Nick discussed future plans for the Ranch, including small sites for intimate gatherings beneath the craggy oaks that dot the vineyards. And though this news hasn’t been officially released yet, for Pinot Noir lovers, this is something of which to take note: Holman Vineyards is looking at creating a six‐pack of single Dijon clone pinots in limited release. Right now they have the 2010 Hunter’s Cuvée Pinot Noir which is created from clone 115. I tried it recently, in my wine club selection, and loved the sweet vanilla and berry notes. It paired well with grilled lamb lollipops and a sour cherry chutney. So, when they do offer the six‐pack with wines made from six different Dijon clones, I’ll be one of the first to say, “Sign me up!”

Also coming up, Holman Ranch is
partnering with Edible Monterey Bay for
its August installment in the Pop‐Up
Supper Club series. At this farm‐to‐table
dinner, guests will feast on a meal
prepared by Chef Terry Teplitzky, of
Marina’s Wild Thyme Deli and Michael’s
 Catering. The menu, based on fresh, seasonal offerings from Serendipity Farms, will pair with Holman Vineyard’s 2010 Pinot Gris, 2010 Rosé of Pinot Noir, 2010 Chardonnay and the 2010 Hunter’s Cuvee Pinot Noir. A portion of the event’s proceeds will benefit the Food Bank for Monterey County, which delivers more than 6 million pounds of food to 90,000 area residents every year. The event affords you an opportunity to dine among the vines, feast on seasonal foods, sip local wines, and enjoy the company of fellow philanthropic foodies. It’s not to be missed.

This vineyard tour was the first of many that Holman Vineyards will offer in the coming months. I can’t wait to sip wines among the vines again soon. Join us next time!

A Culinary Adventure Down the Coast {Edible Monterey Bay}

This article is posted on the Edible Monterey Bay blog: here.

A transporting hike and brunch at Big Sur’s Restaurant at Ventana The third installment of Edible Monterey Bay’s pop-up series brought me, with a good friend and fellow foodie in tow, to the Ventana Inn and Spa for a hike and a brunch. What a thrill to head down the coast from Monterey on a soggy morning and find Ventana enveloped in a bubble of sunshine! Gathering in front of The Restaurant at Ventana, our group of culinary adventurers chatted amicably before heading off on a trail led by Stephen Copeland. A long-time Big Sur resident and owner of Big Sur Guides, Copeland—part naturalist and part local historian—egaled us with stories of Hatfield and McCoy-style feuds between Big Sur landowners and reminisced about Lolly Fassett who started the Nepenthe Restaurant after nurturing the local community nightly with her roasted chicken and stuffing. Copeland recounted that Orson Welles, from whom the Fassetts acquired the property in 1947, had purchased the original cabin, for his wife, Rita Hayworth, as a haven from Hollywood. Despite the seemingly endless views of the dramatic coastline in both directions, Hayworth purportedly declared: “Orson, this is so cute, but I will never spend the night here.” Whether she did or not, Copeland wasn’t sure, but he did know that a few years later the Fassetts bought the property from Welles and began the transformation into what Nepenthe is now, a Bohemian cliffside restaurant where both locals and tourists flock. Nepenthe, in Greek, means “that which chases away sorrow.” And it is aptly named. Just setting foot in that vibrant place makes you smile. As we wound along the trails, Copeland conducted what he jokingly called “Redwood 101.” He discussed the trees’ lateral and vertical growth. He talked about the faces in the bark. He told us how redwood trees reproduce, with the younger trees creating tight rings around their parents. Copeland explained how the Esalens and Salinans, the Native American tribes who called the area home, viewed the redwood family rings as sacred places. Circles of life. The tribes performed marriage rituals in the middle of these towering trees; they brought elders to the circles of life to die. At one point during the hike, our group stood in the center of one of these circles. Surrounded by sixteen giants, we inhaled the citrusy scent from the forest duff beneath our shoes and heard the energetic chirps of the wood sparrow. “Listen. If you come into the Ventana wilderness and you don’t hear that,” Copeland gestured towards the source of the noise, “leave. Leave quickly. It means there’s a predator nearby.” And with that caveat, we headed out of the redwood circle and toward the restaurant, comforted by the constant chirp, chirp, chirp of the birds. With stomachs rumbling and relaxed from the fresh air and sunshine, we were greeted by Kara Stout, Ventana’s Food and Beverage manager, who guided us to the patio. We settled beneath an arbor embraced by gnarled honeysuckle vines whose heady scent is stronger than you would expect from such wiry blossoms. Our first task: answer the question, “what would you like to drink?” I have to admit that I have never seen such a unique selection of brunch libations; I had a tough time deciding. There was, of course, the de rigueur bellini and ubiquitous mimosa. But it was the more innovative offerings that intrigued me. I vacillated between the St. Germain Royal—Roederer Brut with St. Germain elderflower liqueur, and a lime wheel—and the Hair of the Dog Punsch—lemon-infused Zaya rum with spiced black tea. In the end I opted for the Hair of the Dog Punsch; punsch—with its seemingly errant “s”—is not actually a typo. Punsch, Stout answered when I asked, derives from a northern European spelling of this cocktail that is served hot. Though I was initially reluctant to order it because rum cocktails are notoriously syrupy sweet, I couldn’t resist the name. The concoction turned out to be surprisingly spicy and slightly bitter. It was quite enjoyable but a vivid contrast to the chilled, effervescent St. Germain that I sampled by sneaking a sip from my friend’s champagne flute. After clinking our glasses amid celebratory toasts and well-wishes, we considered ten entrée offerings. Chef Truman Jones had fashioned a generous brunch menu with everything from chicken enchiladas to a classic Caesar salad and from homemade granola to a Big Sur burger. I ducked into the kitchen to snap some photos and inquired, casually, about the chef’s favorite. Eggs Benedict. That made my decision simple. It’s my favorite, too. Toasted English muffins were topped with steamed spinach and pillows of perfectly poached eggs. The applewood smoked pork loin was just crispy enough to lend texture to the mouthfeel yet soft enough to complement the silky eggs. And I was grateful that the hollandaise sauce added just the right amount of lemony flavor without drowning the dish. The Californian Salad was a green and orange confetti of golden beets, roasted asparagus, and orange segments tossed with crisp romaine leaves in a buttermilk ranch dressing and topped with toasted almonds and buttery avocado slices. Then there was comfort food at its best. The Shelton Farms Turkey Gravy Smothered Biscuits, first on the menu, looked positively decadent. I wasn’t familiar with Shelton Farms before this meal. A quick search showed me a company, run by three generations of the Flanagan family, whose website reads: “Our turkeys and chickens don’t do drugs.” I can certainly get behind a company whose philosophy is that their poultry – chickens, turkeys, and ducks – grow healthier when they are allowed to walk around in the open air and sunshine, free to scratch at the ground and peck away at whatever catches their fancy. While I didn’t taste any of the other entrées, our table was lined with empty plates, indicating that all were delectable. To say the view from The Restaurant at Ventana was breathtaking sounds needlessly hyperbolic. But I did—literally—catch my breath in awe when I looked up and down the coast from my seat on the terrace. Cloudless cerulean skies stretched in either direction as far as I could see. Stunning. Table chatter ran the gamut from local food events, including the recent Cooking for Solutions, to recipes or culinary processes. And we imagined how we could use the sprigs of California sage that Copeland had plucked from the bushes for us. I’m considering a roasted chicken with stuffing in Lolly Fassett’s honor. Leeks, celery, rye bread, California sage, and lots of butter. I have no idea if her stuffing used California sage, or not, but I know it will be a tasty reminder of this third installment of the pop-up series from Edible Monterey Bay. I’ll echo the sentiments printed at the bottom of our special menu: Thank you to Edible Monterey Bay. Yes, indeed, thank you! This was a truly enjoyable way to spend the morning…learning, imbibing, and feasting in one of the most scenic spots around.

Using a Molinillo

I just licensed this photograph for a textbook in a chapter about the history of chocolate: my son using a molinillo to whisk chocolate. Sweet!

It has sure been awhile since I've written a license agreement, but it all came flooding back to me: "one time, non-exclusive reproduction rights...print run not to exceed XXX...." Just like riding a bike.

Starting in Seattle

How many things would you plan during a 24-hour period? On your vacation?!? Well, if you're me - or my mother - five seemed to be a good number. Excessive? Perhaps. Fun? Most definitely.

I.

We landed in Seattle at noon and had until noon the following day to check out of the hotel and make our way to the pier. Right after ditching our bags at the hotel, we hopped in the car and headed downtown to lunch at Pike Place Market - clam chowder that was heavy on lemon and thyme, cioppino, and deep fried oysters.

II.

Then we blazed past the line out the door of the original Starbucks, with a smirk and "resist corporate coffee" running through our heads, and headed out for the Fremont neighborhood to use my gift certificate to Theo Chocolate on a factory tour for four. We donned Caribbean Sea blue-hued hairnets for a sixty-minute taste and tour where we learned more about that Seattle-based organic, fair trade chocolatier. I've tasted their chocolates before and enjoyed them. But after learning about their practices and policies, I adore them, especially their fantasy flavor line, including their fig, fennel, almond in a dark chocolate; bread and chocolate; and coconut curry. Innovative, delicious, and good business practices. I'm a fan!

III.

We rendez-vous'd with my parents to go up the Space Needle, which definitely was not on my list of to-dos - but the 360 degree views were stunning. We even paused long enough to sample some organic, local beer. We tried the Leavenworth Whistling Pig Hefeweizen from Fish Brewery out of Olympia, Washington. Cheers!

IV.

I've always loved Dale Chihuly's work. So, when I realized that he had a permanent exhibit in the shadow of the Space Needle, it was a must. Breathtaking colors, shapes, and textures. And we all had different favorites. By the end of that adventure, we were all starving. So, I asked one of the gals in the giftshop: where do you like to eat around here? She smiled then jotted directions to an Indian restaurant named Chutney. We strolled through the park, away from where all the tourists were eating, and dined on some truly delightful curries - a fish curry, a chicken curry, and a lamb curry - with the most airy naan I've ever had. It was amazing.

V.

And if that weren't enough excitement for this stop, we squeezed in brunch with Eve, one of my friends from high school, and her family. Eve picked us up at our hotel and chauffeured us to one of her favorite brunch spots in West Seattle. It was nice to watch our boys skip stones together along the shoreline.

One of these days, we'll have to go back to Seattle for more than 24-hours. The city has a personality, some spunk, and lots of great places to eat and explore. Definitely my kinda place.

Pill Sensitivities & Pressure Points

While I do not like being confined to a ship, despite seventeen levels to explore and 24-hour culinary delights, probably my biggest aversion to cruising: seasickness. Almost no one gets sick on these monstrous floating hotels. Almost. Unfortunately, I do. So, I loaded up on Bonine which has worked miracles in the past. Non-drowsy, it claims. Okay. It was certainly my drug of choice when Jake and I worked as divemasters. But somehow, over the years, Bonine is no longer a friend.

I'll let my kids' reactions tell the story - "Mom, I know why it's called a pill. When you take the pill, you become a pill." Nice. Or how about this one, after I ditched the pills - "Hooray! Mommy stopped taking her grumpy pill!"

Apparently I now have a sensitivity to Bonine that not only makes me drowsy (I was dozing off two times in the middle of the day!) but makes me crabby. Needless to say, after a couple of days, I ditched the pills and relied on these very fashionable bands that provide constant pressure to the “Nei Kuan” pressure point. The Nei Kuan pressure point, according to acupressure practitioners, is used specifically to reduce nausea and vomiting. It works. At least for me. Thank goodness.

Eating My Words

My parents love to cruise - as in they enjoy embarking on a week-long, or more, voyage on a cruise ship to visit multiple ports of call. I, on the polar end of that "love to cruise" spectrum, did not inherit that gene. So, after my parents took me to the Caribbean when I graduated from Cal, I swore off cruises. They enticed me back for cruise number two to the Western Caribbean when Riley was just three-years-old and Dylan was just shy of two years old with stops that promised good SCUBA diving. Sadly, we spent the entire week shipbound, trying to outrun a hurricane which dashed all dreams of tropical reefs of Roatan and Belize. That ship, the Norwegian Dream, I dubbed the Norwegian Nightmare and, once again, swore to never set foot on another cruise ship.

Fast forward almost seven years. My parents invited us on a cruise of Alaska's Inside Passage to celebrate their 40th anniversary and Riley's - belated - 10th birthday. So, here we are...with me eating my words.