Not that it was one of my Things To Do but I had a totally terrific Valentine's Day AND Valentine's trip to Mendocino. For Valentine's Day, Honey Bunny gifted me with a giant bouquet of multi-colored roses (aww!), several sweet cards (double aww!) and a box of exotic truffles from Vosges Haut Chocolat. Not just any exotic truffles, mind you... the Sweet Coquette Truffle Collection which features crazy shit like Absinthe, hot chilies, and - wait for it - oyster infused cream. The former were good, the latter was, sadly, disgusto. Yes, I will break the bonds of life long vegetarianism for the occasional piece of bacon but fish is a no-go and has been since I was like one year old. I'm a good sport and valentine, though, so I tried the oyster truffle. It went a little like this:
Honey Bunny: Are you really goi...
Me, tossing truffle into my mouth: Bottom's up!
HB, looking at me skeptically: Oh.
Me, mouth full: Not bad! Tastes like white chocolate!
HB, still looking at me skeptically: Reall...
Me, mouth full, panicked look on face: Need napkin!!! Need water!!!
I gave the other oyster truffle in the collection to my coworker and told him to relate to it as a fish lover having something sweet paired with fish, rather than a chocolate lover having something fishy paired with chocolate. He still has yet to inform me how he liked it, which is a bad sign. Overall, the truffle collection was groovy, though, and I highly recommend trying something from Vosges if you've never had their stuff before. The one truffle I absolutely loved and literally commented, "this tastes like love", was the Le Chocolat en Rose. I've never been a fan of rose water stuff (despite the fact that my mom added it to every dessert she made in the early 90's, ahem) but I really loved it.
Every time I'm road tripping my way to Mendo, I think to myself, I wonder if it will be as awesome as all the times I've been there previously? My boss recently said to me "sometimes you're a glass half-empty kinda gal," which I'd agree with in spades. ("Sometimes"? Pfft. That doesn't even begin to cover it.) I call it my way of proactively dealing with any disappointment that might come up. But hey, Mendocino delivered - as it always does.
Honey Bunny and I stayed in our favorite room in our favorite inn, which also has a spa on site. I loves me some redwood hot tub and they've got two. They also have a dry sauna and two outdoor showers with free flowing EO Lavender and Tea Tree soap in them. Nothing better than showering outside in the quiet morning and crisp air, I tell you. And boy, was it crisp! Our trip coincided with the freezing cold weather front that came through the Bay Area. Generally we love leisurely spending time on the porch of our room talking and reading but it was colder than a witches tit pretty much every time we tried. Hiking around the headlands was certainly interesting as well. Poor us, though... we warmed our numb hands, ears and faces back to life in one of the hot tubs upon returning from our various outings.
One thing that was different about this trip was the food. Mendocino's restaurants pretty much suck, plain and simple. We might be spoiled since we live in San Francisco and have a zillion restaurants at our fingertips, but I also think Mendocino offers the chance for restaurants to have a captive audience and therefore license to do whatever the hell they want with their food. A smattering of the restaurants there are pure shite, a handful are do-able, and a couple of them are excellent. The latter two we found during this trip by a mixture of luck and research.
We've walked past Moosse Cafe a million times and opted out because it looked like yet another crap cafe with a high priced and high falootin' menu. We tried it this time because it looked like the best vegetarian option for the one fancy dinner we were hoping to do. After serving up my Kir Royale, they recommended the special appetizer of the night: butternut and leek soup with sage oil. Naysayers that we are, we were expecting the requisite bowl of too-sweet orange puree. Oh. My. God. Not too-sweet and no orange puree in sight. It was like soup god in a cup, tasty and tangy but a little bit sweet but also a little bit hot and herbaceous. Yeow! Next we had the ratatouille which was damn near the best ratatouille I've ever had. It came out served "inside" cooked Savoy cabbage leaves, which scared the shit out of both of us. But no... I'm now a bonafide fan of Savoy cabbage. Aside from the ratatouille, I couldn't wait to get the next bite of cabbage into my mouth. Who knew? For dessert I had something that no chocolate lover should exit this life without having: Callebaut Belgian dark chocolate pudding with whipped cream and bittersweet chocolate shavings. Yes, ma'am! It was more decadent than it sounds and just incredibly good. Did I mention they gave us a free pour of ruby port with it? We closed the restaurant with bellies full of the delicious, rich grub we've always hoped to get in Mendocino. Win!
The next morning we struck gold again. We headed over to the MacCallum House Inn to their Grey Whale Cafe. MacCallum House to me is the definitive Mendo look and feel, the embodiment of "Cape Cod of the West". Accordingly, HB was turned off by the place. Too bad for him that it was the best breakfast we've maybe ever had. I had the breakfast burrito and every single thing about that plate was on point... plated beautifully, understated, perfect portion sizes and, most importantly, extremely tasty. Win!
The meals that followed were a little nutty but hey, that's Mendocino. You can only hit it out of the park so many times. Honorable Mention goes to Frankie's, where we've always gotten terrific waffle cone sundaes (they serve locally made Cowlick's!) but they also have super groovy pizza and are vegan friendly. OH, and next door to Frankie's is Mendocino Chocolate Company, which has really yummy treats (dark chocolate covered cashews and dark chocolate mint truffles, yeah!)... just ignore the despondent teenager surfing the internet behind the cash register and yell when you're ready to choose your chocolates from the case. It's worth it.
On our final day in the village we had to check out at 11am, no small feat for us late sleepers. We had quite possibly the worst breakfast of all time at the local pub (cute for a drink but don't eat there) and then set off to rent an outrigger at Catch-A-Canoe and Bicycles Too. I cannot say enough nice things about Catch-A-Canoe. They are the nicest, most laid-back folks, and truly eager to get you out in a boat or on a bike with as little fuss as possible. It took us maybe 10 minutes from the time we locked the car until our buns were in an outrigger and paddling up Big River. That included signing the rental and waiver form, a pee break, fitting the life vests and a quick lesson in paddling. And them serving the eight person family that was ahead of us first.
Despite the cold weather and constant threat of rain, it was a beautiful day for canoeing. We went just over four miles upstream, seeing on the way gigantic, exotic birds in the swampy areas and seal cuties bobbing in and out of the water or hanging out on rocks. Canoeing is one of those things that is so easy to do that you don't realize how many calories you're burning or how fatigued you're getting. By mile four, I realized that we better take advantage of the now out-going tide and get back sooner rather than later. Indeed, with the out-going tide we made it back in a bit over half the time it took us to get up the river. Even with a quick tide to help us, though, we had to dig in for the last mile or so... the wind was absolutely howling against us and it was difficult to steer, not to mention keep forward momentum. Thankfully, the landing was not rough like it was the last time we did the trip two years ago (when we crashed into the dock, whoopsie), as the owner's son and resident deckhand hollered directions at us for a gentle side slip to the dock -- not an easy feat with that wind and a rushing tide in the narrow corridor almost where the river meets the ocean where Catch is located. With buckling legs and wet seats, HB and I paid (they cut us a deal even, they are SO sweet) and got on the road since it was already 4pm.
We stupidly decided that it was best not to eat before we hit the road, being sick of the Mendocino good food hunt and thinking we'd stop once we got back to Highway 101. What I learned in retrospect was that we'd burned about 1200 calories a piece on that four hour canoe trip. By the time we reached the highway we were both feeling mighty crabby, hungry, thirsty and tired. Thankfully for us, we have to pass one of HB's most favorite restaurants of all time, Cloverdale's Hamburger Ranch & Spaghetti Farm, to even get to the 101. Yahoo! Upon seeing the smoke from the BBQ outside on the patio, Honey Bunny decided that it was the perfect time to cheat on vegetarianism and have some chicken. Even now, a week later, he's coasting on a BBQ chicken high, saying it was the best he's ever had and how he can't wait to get back there. Me... it was the first time I've ever eaten a veggie burger, onion rings and/or fries with BBQ sauce. Why did it take me this long? Holy balls, BBQ sauce is GOOD. Hamburger Ranch makes two damn good ones - hot, and sweet. My mouth is watering just writing this. HB also got a side of mac and cheese with his chicken, and it was damn good. It was a major food orgy on the heels of several hours of wind-blown and sun-soaked exercise, and I can't tell you how deeply satisfying it was!
In fact, Valentine's Day and all its associated pleasures, treats and trips, as always, was deeply satisfying. I heart Valentine's Day and Honey Bunny!
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Monday, January 31, 2011
Over the hump and into Potter madness
As I've reflected back on 2010 I've realized it was a particularly difficult year for me in terms of identity. At the time, the original 16 days of staycay was meant to decompress from the daily grind, to try some new things (habits, hobbies, whatever you want to call them) and in general to shake up my life a bit. While that description still stands, the bigger picture points to having questioned the identity I constructed and that's stayed fairly static for the last 10 years or so. I talked about this in therapy a lot in the latter half of 2010 and quite honestly had to "grieve" for certain pieces of my identity that had shriveled up on the vine, needing to be pruned for the sake of somethings new and fresh.
The most major of those things was my place in the fat acceptance movement, which I mostly talk about in my other blog. My interest in being one of the many blogger voices in the movement has been fading for a long time and it was time to give it up. The last nail in the coffin was deciding to lose weight, actually acting upon that decision and realizing that it's seen as a betrayl to the movement by some of the louder voices, a few of my friends and, well, myself. It was ultimately a very good thing to realize that I felt that sense of betrayl, to push past it, to feel like I could no longer identify with certain folks both in the movement and not, because you know what? I've lost a little weight (ie. a very personal goal, no one else's business) and contrary to what I thought would happen I actually feel renewed energy for fat acceptance. Call it acting as a double-agent or an immersion tactic, but I had to see from the "dieter" point of view - or some would argue, the perspective of the vast majority living in American culture - before I could really gain a more-rounded perspective of the issue.
I can't help but keep remembering a little snippet I once read in Glamour magazine from Eve Ensler. The article was a collection of quick wisdom from established women, and Eve was one of the contributers. She said something like, "Go out and explore, go farther than you've ever gone before, go so far that you feel unsafe and go so far that you feel like you'll never be able to come back. You WILL come back and you'll be better for it." Those of you who know me personally know I loathe dogma so I'm far from running out and making a bumper sticker, but I do think her quote holds a lot of wisdom. When I decided to go forward with losing weight I not only had to eschew my roots in fat acceptance, I had to hold at bay a lifetime's worth of fear and struggle. In the earlier days of losing, I was scared pretty much every single moment about what would happen next. There are still some days like that but I feel like I'm over some kind of hump, getting more into the rhythm of seeing where each day goes, dealing with my fear as it comes up, making adjustments and being flexible, so on and so forth. I'm still out in exploring mode for sure but I can trust that I'll come back and be better for it.
On a much lighter note, I just thought I'd let you know I've made the decent into Harry Potter madness. One of my goals last year was to finally finish reading Order of the Phoenix, and I made it by thismuch for my new year's deadline. Back in 2007, I was deep into the series but unfortunately had to stop reading about 1/3 of the way into Phoenix. In the midst of planning my wedding that year I'd developed anxiety and insomnia. Harry's angst in the book (and Mrs. Weasely's as well) was somehow having an adverse effect on my own real angst-in-progress. If you've ever struggled with panic attacks yourself, you probably know what I'm about to say... that somewhere along the line the book was poisoned with anxiety context. Each time I tried to pick back up in the book after that, even after my wedding, I felt that familiar heightened state coming on. Upon seeing Deathly Hallows: Part 1 in the movie theater last Fall I decided it was time. Time to pick up the book, time to conquer my fear, as I really missed the written series and wanted to finish it out, but moreso because it really was the last vestige of that sleepless and panic-stricken time in my life. My sister recommended that instead of reading I should listen to the unabridged audio CDs, ones that she thankfully owned and let me borrow. I found my best solution was a mix of listening to the CDs in the car while driving and also reading the book at night before bed, picking one up where the other left off. It really is a long novel and not surprisingly, my least favorite of the series. Done!
Immediately I picked up with Half Blood Prince, easily my favorite of the written series. (I have a thing about penultimate episodes and novels in a series; they always seem to be my fave.) My sister also let me borrow audio CDs for this book and I did the same as with Phoenix... listened in the car and read in my bed, quickly picking up where the other last left off. This morning I finished the book and have spent the day feeling as though someone I knew distantly, but loved nevertheless, has died. The phoenix Fawkes had a special place in my heart from the moment he was introduced in Sorcerer's Stone, and I was so incredibly moved to read the following at the end of the book:
The way J.K. Rowling writes about death really resonates with me and my personal experiences with loss, and it's a perfect example of that. Overall, I think she's an amazing writer and storyteller, and I've so enjoyed the time I've spent inside this world of Harry Potter.
This means I'm now on the home stretch. My sister is sending me yet another box of audio CDs, this time for Deathly Hallows, and I picked up the book last night. I've already joked to Honey Bunny that my regular internal monologue has been replaced by that of Jim Dale's voice and the characters' verbal affects, due to the sheer amount of time I've spent listening to the books in the car (where I normally talk to myself and have quality thinking time). It will be even moreso after Deathly Hallows.
And of course there is Deathly Hallows: Part 2 coming out in July. I seriously won't know what to do with myself after all is said and done with all the books and all the films. (Talk about a grieving period.) I'm having a great time being immersed for now, though!
The most major of those things was my place in the fat acceptance movement, which I mostly talk about in my other blog. My interest in being one of the many blogger voices in the movement has been fading for a long time and it was time to give it up. The last nail in the coffin was deciding to lose weight, actually acting upon that decision and realizing that it's seen as a betrayl to the movement by some of the louder voices, a few of my friends and, well, myself. It was ultimately a very good thing to realize that I felt that sense of betrayl, to push past it, to feel like I could no longer identify with certain folks both in the movement and not, because you know what? I've lost a little weight (ie. a very personal goal, no one else's business) and contrary to what I thought would happen I actually feel renewed energy for fat acceptance. Call it acting as a double-agent or an immersion tactic, but I had to see from the "dieter" point of view - or some would argue, the perspective of the vast majority living in American culture - before I could really gain a more-rounded perspective of the issue.
I can't help but keep remembering a little snippet I once read in Glamour magazine from Eve Ensler. The article was a collection of quick wisdom from established women, and Eve was one of the contributers. She said something like, "Go out and explore, go farther than you've ever gone before, go so far that you feel unsafe and go so far that you feel like you'll never be able to come back. You WILL come back and you'll be better for it." Those of you who know me personally know I loathe dogma so I'm far from running out and making a bumper sticker, but I do think her quote holds a lot of wisdom. When I decided to go forward with losing weight I not only had to eschew my roots in fat acceptance, I had to hold at bay a lifetime's worth of fear and struggle. In the earlier days of losing, I was scared pretty much every single moment about what would happen next. There are still some days like that but I feel like I'm over some kind of hump, getting more into the rhythm of seeing where each day goes, dealing with my fear as it comes up, making adjustments and being flexible, so on and so forth. I'm still out in exploring mode for sure but I can trust that I'll come back and be better for it.
On a much lighter note, I just thought I'd let you know I've made the decent into Harry Potter madness. One of my goals last year was to finally finish reading Order of the Phoenix, and I made it by thismuch for my new year's deadline. Back in 2007, I was deep into the series but unfortunately had to stop reading about 1/3 of the way into Phoenix. In the midst of planning my wedding that year I'd developed anxiety and insomnia. Harry's angst in the book (and Mrs. Weasely's as well) was somehow having an adverse effect on my own real angst-in-progress. If you've ever struggled with panic attacks yourself, you probably know what I'm about to say... that somewhere along the line the book was poisoned with anxiety context. Each time I tried to pick back up in the book after that, even after my wedding, I felt that familiar heightened state coming on. Upon seeing Deathly Hallows: Part 1 in the movie theater last Fall I decided it was time. Time to pick up the book, time to conquer my fear, as I really missed the written series and wanted to finish it out, but moreso because it really was the last vestige of that sleepless and panic-stricken time in my life. My sister recommended that instead of reading I should listen to the unabridged audio CDs, ones that she thankfully owned and let me borrow. I found my best solution was a mix of listening to the CDs in the car while driving and also reading the book at night before bed, picking one up where the other left off. It really is a long novel and not surprisingly, my least favorite of the series. Done!
Immediately I picked up with Half Blood Prince, easily my favorite of the written series. (I have a thing about penultimate episodes and novels in a series; they always seem to be my fave.) My sister also let me borrow audio CDs for this book and I did the same as with Phoenix... listened in the car and read in my bed, quickly picking up where the other last left off. This morning I finished the book and have spent the day feeling as though someone I knew distantly, but loved nevertheless, has died. The phoenix Fawkes had a special place in my heart from the moment he was introduced in Sorcerer's Stone, and I was so incredibly moved to read the following at the end of the book:
Somewhere out in the darkness a phoenix was singing a stricken lament of terrible beauty and Harry felt as he had felt about phoenix song before - that the music was inside him, not without. It was his own grief turned magically to song that echoed across the grounds and through the castle windows. How long they all stood there listening he did not know, nor why it seemed to ease their pain a little to listen to the sound of their mourning.
The way J.K. Rowling writes about death really resonates with me and my personal experiences with loss, and it's a perfect example of that. Overall, I think she's an amazing writer and storyteller, and I've so enjoyed the time I've spent inside this world of Harry Potter.
This means I'm now on the home stretch. My sister is sending me yet another box of audio CDs, this time for Deathly Hallows, and I picked up the book last night. I've already joked to Honey Bunny that my regular internal monologue has been replaced by that of Jim Dale's voice and the characters' verbal affects, due to the sheer amount of time I've spent listening to the books in the car (where I normally talk to myself and have quality thinking time). It will be even moreso after Deathly Hallows.
And of course there is Deathly Hallows: Part 2 coming out in July. I seriously won't know what to do with myself after all is said and done with all the books and all the films. (Talk about a grieving period.) I'm having a great time being immersed for now, though!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)