Major YUMMM in Berkeley, CA

DAY ONE of time off: LaNote_Berkeley_front

I awaken in time to shower and head out to catch up with my colleague Janey at one of my favorite places to eat breakfast in Berkeley. This is not my regular go-to spots, though it is a favorite nonetheless. Today reminded me why. There is always a line, but it moves quickly because the service is outstanding as is the food.

It’s always crowded with interesting people. So, even though once you’re seated, the tables are so close that you feel like you’ve joined a party of 8 rather than the one other person you’re dining with; it’s still a great experience.

La Note Berkeley The view from the left of my seat at La Note. You feel like you’re in a lovely Provencal kitchen in the heart of southern France. Oh YEAH!

Check out this breakfast menu! I ordered LES OEUFS MAISON *With chicken apple sausage. Oh, Mon Dieu! The potatoes had no less than FOUR full cloves of roasted garlic, cooked through to perfection as were the potatoes. The over-easy eggs were tasty as was the sausage. Heaven on the first day off in a few difficult weeks since Thanksgiving.

La Note 2_Berkeley La Note server: vit vit

Janey and I had a wonderful time with food, discussions of our teaching, , podcasts we enjoy, and a bit of chatter about the best audio purchases she can make to create a fantastic podcast of her amazing teaching and work in Health Education. I look forward to subscribe!

After breakfast, I meandered further around downtown Berkeley to attend my church (AKA: Half Price Books in the Kress Building /Arts District). En route there, I couldn’t help but notice the plethora of food joints. I already knew about the tasty Comal that I have dined at more than a few times. This is a MUST stop for dinner to anyone living in NorCal and if you’re visiting: “Do Not Pass Go. Go Directly to Comal!” comal112

I passed by another place I tasted recently with my pal Hugh. This, too, was an abundance of molecular wonder on my tastebuds: Eureka! Known for it’s EAT | AMERICAN | DRINK and the lovely natural wood interior with the crazy list of Whiskey and Bourbon (American, right?) Eureka_Berkeley_busy

One of my all-time best date-for-dinner spots is Revival. Yum, delish, hot (in the right way), and great libation creations (leading to the aforementioned adjectives). Comal is good for these as well, btw. Revivial Libation

More YUMMM than you’ll know what to do with and it’s all there in a 10-block radius for you. Start with La Note for one meal in the morning, head to the new location of the Pacific Film Archives (opens Feb. 3 2016). Then go directly to Half Price Books for an hour or two before you need to eat again at any of the above named restaurants or literally HUNDREDS more food joints in the neighborhood. A work out at the Berkeley Y might be a good idea in between too!

OK. It’s 5:42p. Time for…something!

Cranberry and Cocktails

A sip slips across my tongue, chilling my mouth with an effervescence of cranberry and sage. A round of seasonal cocktail creations before the meal helps keep the family alive and tickling and the Seasons 52 bar menu did not disappoint. One of us enjoyed the “Cucumber Basil Smash”, another the “Bourbon Berry Bramble” and I whet my whistle with the “Cranberry & Sage”–a holiday concoction comprised of Prairie organic gin, white cranberry juice, fresh cranberries, lime, and two candied sage leaves on the rocks – a delight! Among the six of us dining at Seasons 52 in Sacramento, we shared nibbles, giggles, fine wine, cranberries, caramel and settled carnivorous caveman cravings while being thankful for having the ability to dine like this. The restaurant serves local-farm-to-table magnificence in a delectable discovery of creative recipes paired with a wonderful collection of wine, and some that ONLY Seasons 52 has access to thanks to their brilliant sommelier. We spoke about a purchase of more of the Fisher Vineyards Unity Pinot Noir, (cleverly up-sold to me by our industrious server, Cassandra, after I had ordered a glass of Schug Pinot Noir), but were told that the restaurant bought ALL of the 288 cases of the 2012 vintage. We agreed it was one of the best PNs we had ever tasted. Now, looking up the wine via the wonders of spaceship travel through broadband wifi, it is a 100% pinot noir with a pommard clone. From my previous travels to Bourgogne, I recall my favorite among the French varietals hails from a famous Côte de Beaune commune, Pommard – situated just south of Beaune. So, the Fisher family propagated a clone from Pommard to add to their Unity Pinot Noir. Bravo! Bonne!

Everyone loved their meal choices (rack of lamb, scallops) that were not a part of the special Thanksgiving option one could order. Two of us who yearned for turkey and the requisite sides were disappointed in some pretty dry turkey. 🙁 Oh well. The sides were decent enough especially the cranberry relish, and the topper was a perfectly-sized, tall shot glass of yum pumpkin-pie shoved therein. 4 bites is ALL one needs after a full-meal, so I’m going to swipe this idea and have some friends over for dessert one night feeding them only a shot glass worth of sweet.

I would love to return to Seasons 52 in order to taste their wonders that are on the regular menu. The place was packed from wall-to-wall with hungry patrons anticipating an evening on Thanksgiving without the mess and fuss of the grand meal en casa. So, I won’t fault them for not showing their best in the best typical Thanksgiving meal category.

Java, Pepper, and Other Taste Bud Particulars

Coffee with sugar and cream and the beans that hail from Peet’s Coffee and Tea assist in the formation of my thoughts for this day. “The UNCOMPROMISED CUP: There’s only one way to craft great coffee and tea—with an obsessive commitment to doing things right.” This statement pulled right from their “craft” navigational link on their home page sits perfectly with me and my thoughts about how EVERY TIME I come back to a bag of Peet’s beans, I am the most satisfied morning coffee drinker on the planet…until it runs out and rather than go immediately back to Peet’s to buy more, I try yet another craft coffee bean producer who claims to do everything right, but it never tastes just right. ONLY Peet’s makes the finest for my buds. FIVE DECADES with three roast masters is one key to their success and I have to admit that I like that they opened their first store in Berkeley, California, USA in 1966. What a grand year. I was four, so it was long before I landed in Berkeley to go to college and thus become a lifelong Peet’s fan and morning java sipper. Check out this fantastic video the next time you have a cup in your hand.

I’ve been cooking a lot more lately and taking particular stock of my spices. I use a mortar and pestle to grind down various savory spices along with a Oxo Pepper Mill to select that perfect flavor for the food. There is nothing like the taste of freshly ground pepper. With this in mind, I set my fingers to pad to discover a world of specialty peppercorns. I found the extremely limited supply of organic Kampot Pepper most of which goes to France which makes me feel like I’m of special nobility with my world explorers having returned bearing gifts from their Spice Trade encounters. These are rare Cambodian peppercorns that have arrived in air tight shipping bag. OOooooh. I must digress a moment to bring you an important point from the Spice Trade wiki: “The economically important Silk Road (red) and spice trade routes (blue) blocked by the Ottoman Empire ca. 1453 with the fall of the Byzantine Empire, spurring exploration motivated initially by the finding of a sea route around Africa and triggering the Age of Discovery.” COOL. I’m a huge fan of maps and cartography, so this excited rush from pepper arriving via US mail has me reeling. (It doesn’t take much, I know.) Heading over to the Kampot Pepper website, I find a very informative video about the region, the growers, and the trade that I’d like to share with you.

So, I look at the two things that have given me great taste bud pleasure and I realize that they look very similar when seen up close. Whoever thought to pick these little treats, dry them out, roast and grind them up so that the physics of the molecular change that occurs in the grinding releases a very potent pleasure wins the smartest human award. I looked up the physics of grinding and found this extraordinary 145-page dissertation from Worcester Polytechnic Institute on “Modeling and simulation of grinding processes based on a virtual wheel model and microscopic interaction analysis”. Well, there goes my Sunday night! Nerd-ville Central. I will pull this one line to share from the Introduction on page 14: “As a material removal process, grinding has a long history ever since the Stone Age.” Cool. My kitchen has an appliance from the Stone Age that I use every time I cook. YES! I read further about the Kampot Green Pepper: “Harvested when still young on the vine, Kampot green pepper aromas literally explode on the palate with a very mild pepperiness. This fresh pepper accommodates perfectly a grilled squid dish.” Hmmm, good to know. And “Kampot black pepper delivers a strong and delicate aroma. Its taste, which can range from intensely spicy to mildly sweet, reveals hints of flower, eucalyptus and mint.” Perfecto! Abbondanza!

Of Bullets and Benjamins_Take 2

https://danajae33.wordpress.com/2015/10/10/of-bullets-and-benjamins/

The story begins at the link above and it’s a quick read to bring you back to Take 2 here. This is my blog about taking life one sip at a time, by golly, and the photo below will tell you exactly why someone like me would rather spend my time in quiet repose in my apartment with several blank books inside of which I scribble my creative thoughts with a plethora of pen choices. I cook up a meal, lay it out in a photo like this (my kind of selfie) to enjoy the quick, pre-eaten view of fall food complete with a bowl of wild rice, kale, peppers, onion, and leafy greens along with 2 pomegranates and 2 pumpkins, on a piano bench with a martini and plants in the background. This is relaxation. This is how I avoid thinking too much about those aforementioned bullets and benjamins neither of which I have in my simple life.

Fall food and libation on an October weekend

Herina at the Meeting

Herina lived like none other, running to and from her scheduled tasks as a high-wire balancing act. Always quick on the pick up, researched and ready to answer to anything and anyone, she discovered that opportunities in life sometimes pop up in mysterious ways.

She worked at three jobs, one of her own devising. On one particularly fine day, a meeting was called for her to perform her tightrope operation to an agent of a very famous person seeking out stories for his client. Pulling together all of her might and will to succeed at her third job that she desperately wished would someday replace her first two, she walked into the fancy downtown restaurant in her best warm-weather clothing. For all of her devil-may-care attitude at the power of the wealthy, it was a good thing that no one witnessed the shriek she emitted into her closet upon the realization that she was peering into a wormhole. She parted the various cloth structures hanging before her, willing them into submission. There must somehow be some magic spell that would allow her to suck up the “uh-oh, nothing fits” body into one of these strict seams.

What to do? What to do? There is no time to take stock and shop when one lives the life of two!
She ran to her neighbor. She called up bigger friends.
Is there anyone out there who can assist me with threads?

The lunch began simple and breezy. She could shoot the moon with the best of them. It wasn’t until after a few moments of the delivery of the Mission Figs and Organic Mixed Greens appetizer that the cajolery took a different turn. Faces across from her looked less warm and fuzzy and started to glance away quickly while she continued her pitch. She wondered what was going so wrong, so strong she believed in her ability to win this.

The waiter shook up the moment with the delivery of their 4 main courses. He placed the Northern Halibut before her which she had not ordered. She didn’t want to make a fuss, and thus ruin the run of the pitched idea, so she let it sit as she continued. Then, somewhere from the back of her mind, a thought slipped in from a Facebook post a friend had made recently that included a picture of two worms found in the halibut steaks that she and her husband were preparing. Herina had read every “eww, gross” comment and even a link from a blog written by a fisherman and they were all flooding in now one after the other in an attempt to trip her lips. She tried to keep her mind split in two: one on the story arc that she attempted to sell and one on the halibut worm memory. She sipped the water and coughed a little from a trickle that headed down her windpipe. Seeing this as a universal clue to excuse herself to the bathroom, she created the space for a quick moment to regain her composure.

Out flew the worms and the thoughts of gross parasites as she sat in on the porcelain seat and gave herself one of her “if Mom were alive” pep talks. She felt better. Straightening up, she headed for the wash basin, looked into the mirror and smiled. There before her as she watched her lips separate across her teeth in a wide beam, she found an errant piece of arugula stuck firmly over the entire front right tooth. She looked like Lucy performing her black teeth schtick.

Laughing aloud, she rubbed two clean wet fingers across the suspect, wiping it down from tongue to gullet. A fancy-do-type-A elder watched in the mirror while pretending to fix herself. Herina winked at her, dried off, and walked out resuming her place in society…

Ode to the Worker – Let It Rain

Let it rain… Click and listen as you read this homage to those all around this globe who toil.

The skin of your palms reveal the wonder of a life in the trenches. The browned crevices on the back of your hand tell the story of the earth’s salt and how your work enriches everyone. You touch so many you will never see. The fabric you sew circles around me, protecting. The color of the fabric you dye brings a gleam to my eye. You touch me, but I not you. You receive very little in return for your countless troubles in your workplace. You barely earn enough to eat, let alone to own a safe space to put up your feet. The man above you does not know your name. The man above him feels no shame nor pain in his pompous daily routine involving Chateaubriand and fine wine.

How does the planet continue to turn in this horrific cycle of inhumane sin. Mistreatment of one for the gain of another. Hordes of enslaved worker drones in the factory and farms of lost spirits.

Let it rain • drown the pain • open the gates • pay a fair wage * share the wealth * We Can Change * We Can Change

Turn the page…

rain

Mad About Manzano

Manzano, Italy!

What a lovely, idyllic region. I refer to the 6th definition of the adjective “mad”: overcome by desire, eagerness, enthusiasm, etc.; excessively or uncontrollably fond; infatuated.

I am traveling to the places OFF the tourist map and timeframe so that I can enjoy this trip from the perspective of those who live in Europe. This can ONLY be made possible by the wonderful friends who are hosting me on my voyage. The Beltramini family has made me more than welcome as I sit with Lea (their beloved Maltipoo) on my lap and watch the creation of some of the finest Friulian dishes by Meris. My friend Claudia has been blessed with amazing parents. Though I understand only a bit of the exciting dinner conversations, I learn by their fantastic explosions of dialog accompanied by gestures and dynamics of voice.

Put on your headphones and have a listen:

So, I have been here, there, and everywhere with my tour guide extraordinaire, Claudia, who is also an audio fanatic as I am; so, I experience the best of Friuli visuals with the best of sound conversation.

How about a little video of the food preparation? Cooking_Manzano

And lastly, Claudia is preparing homemade pesto for lunch. Did I mention that I’ve put on a couple of extra kilos, otherwise known as: “Ho messo su un paio di kili.”

Wine with lunch, wine with dinner… OY!

Captured by Vino and Rain

Wine

the

way

here.

It’s the first hangover I’ve had all trip. Woof. Started with Prosecco, then Vino Blanco with the soup and Cabernet Franc with dinner, then Grappa afterwards. I delighted in the sound of the pouring rain and thunder along with massive amounts of lightning (what a show!) while carrying on with some wonderful people in Friulian, the language of Friuli. Can I really communicate in Friulian? No, but I’m starting to understand it…must be something in the wine accompanied by excellent hand gestures and facial expressions. It contains the sing-song vibe of Italian with some words similar to Italian, French, and Spanish though pronounced differently. Another Italian I met in Venezia told me that she has Friuliano friends that she doesn’t understand at all, so she requests that they speak Italian when they are all together. That’s how different it is.

Put those headphones on and delight in this rain. Can you hear the tangled message inside?

While the rain pours in your ears and into your memory bank, I’ll tell you a story of traveling from A-to-B on that rainy day at the villa when I needed to go to the train station by taxi. The curt driver showed up and saw a villa, so likely figured me out to be someone who I am not (read: important and with money). He drove me the 3-minutes to the train station and told me 25 Euro. I was flabberghasted! What? I took a few taxis with Hugh on much longer distances for 10 Euro tops, how on earth was this a 25 Euro ride? I looked at his meter which was neatly covered up by brown cloth and a rope resembling the garb of a friar. I pointed to it, put my hands up in the question mark kind of way, and said “25 Euro?” He hollered something in Italian over his shoulder with the word “domenica” thrown in which I know is Sunday. Oh, OK. So on Sundays the cabbies cover the meter and charge whatever the hell they feel like. I get it. Oy. I had exactly 25 Euro on me (a 20-Euro bill and two 2-Euro coins and a 1-Euro coin). I rolled my bag in the rain into the station to figure out how on earth I was going to go from Mestre station in Venezia to Udine a couple of hours north. Let the fun begin! First, a stop at the ATM which works perfectly well as your way to obtain money in Europe – no need to plan any changers back home first. Just take your ATM, pop it in, and out pops some money in the currency that you need. It worked in Iceland for the Krona and it works all over Europe for the (thankfully single) Euro. I remember when you had to change currency for every country. Oooof. It’s all different now with one currency. Taken note: one important thing is to keep track of the daily changes in the currency so that you know what you have withdrawn from your account…

Next up: the Train to Udine which cost only 11 Euros, by the way. Just sayin’.

The featured image I display are two glasses of delicious house white wine with a view overlooking Manzano, Italy. Such a beautiful place that I get to explore between the bursts of rainstorms with my dear pal, Claudia. She’s an audio engineer as well, so we get to talk shop while she shares the magnificence of the region of Friuli with me.

In a Gadda Da Villa

Now in Italy, the pace has slowed.

Wine, the drink of choice, flows while the scenery floats all around. Vineyards everywhere including the AirBnB-found home of Anna in Venezia. (If you haven’t tried AirBnB, click the link. Go somewhere. Stay in an AirBnB home of someone amazing. There are so many great choices and people all over the world!) Anna’s home was not any ordinary home, but a villa on a huge parcel of land that includes vineyards, fields, decorated places to sit and enjoy life, all for a very low price, WELL BELOW the cost of a hotel. I lived for a night like Vivien Leigh in “Gone With The Wind” – only, Italian-style, without the big hoop dress and Rhett Butler, of course. It was that kind of huge and beautiful place. What a find!

So, the next day, the plan was to venture around Venice to look at the canals and do the dance of Venice before heading north to my main destination. Problem: a huge storm came in and it was pouring rain with thunder and lightning by 7a. Huzzah, I love it! But, uh-oh. This posed more of a problem than merely missing a trip to the island, because, I forgot to borrow an umbrella from my Belgian hosts and the villa was a 5-minute walk to the bus stop. So, aside from visiting Venice, how would I make it to the Mestre train station to go to Udine? Let me explain here: I don’t mind getting wet, I love the rain! But Shannon, Shelby, Sergio, Zoom, and Fuji (my digital devices on hand) would certainly NOT dig the wet. Holy Cow. I encountered my second real problem in 16 days (the first was losing Shannon for a week). As I contemplated my options, I heard more thunder and rain. I recorded the sounds, I took pictures. I stalled my time there in hopes that it would blow over before I had to leave. (Like hotels, AirBnB’s have your exit plan scheduled and this was no exception as people from New Zealand were due to arrive by 1p. Anna had to prepare the room I slept in.) So, what to do? I can’t walk in the pouring rain with my digital assistants! Alas, taxi time. Damn. Didn’t want to do it, but I had to. This would also bring my first expedition out in Italia without a way to properly communicate. People told me that most Italians up in the north do not speak English. Uh-oh.

Good times ahead just around the next pass… Stay tuned for “Taxi Driver”…

Sights & Sounds of Bruges

After all of the sights to see and sounds to hear, the time proves ripe to choose among 400 on the menu of beer.