AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT

We just got back from a four day jaunt to San Luis Obispo and Paso Robles to attend the 2009 Paderewski Festival.

Say, what?

Yep, we got kultcha.  Although, I have to say, if this hadn’t been connected to wine tasting I might not have opted in.  Wine or not, I was glad we did.  The inspirations were my fraternity bros, Paul and Chuck.   Paul lives in SLO and provided the B&B base of operations.  Chuck provided the connection to the festival as he takes piano lessons from the principal organizer.  We provided the lasagna and comic relief.

Having Paul’s house as a home port, we left the rig here and saved the $135 in gas it would have eaten.  We went instead in the very versatile VW van that Chuck had loaned us last summer to go to Stanford Camp, complete with canine companion, Axel:

We had a beautiful drive up the Malibu coast on Hwy 1, joining the US 101 in Oxnard.  The ocean views sure beat the traffic on the freeway route through the Valley.  We got there around 2:30 and set to getting in an early dinner as we had to get to Paso for the first wine reception and event by 6:00.  Paul popped a couple of very nice bottles, Loni’s lasagna got reheated, good crunchy bread and salad, and we were mellow in no time.  Fortunately, Chuck is not into the drink, so we could waft our way to Paso in (relative) safety.

The first event was at the Vina Robles Winery for a performance by the Denali String Quartet , a Los-Angeles-based superb group.

The winery has a new tasting facility which has an outstanding concert room, very tastefully decorated.  Alas, I left my camera at Paul’s so no photos.  They give a series of concerts there, and it is a great venue.  Not so great was their cheapo approach to the wine reception.  One small taste of a new rose’, which actually was pretty good, given I’m not big on rose’s.  But thereafter everything was on a pay-per-glass basis.  And no munchies.  Boooo.  The concert, however, more than made up for it.  They were excellent.  We heard

Villa-Lobos: String Quartet No. 5

Gorecki: String Quartet No. 1, "Already It Is Evening"

Brahms: String Quartet in A Minor

I won’t pretend to be familiar with any of it, but it sure was good.  Our resident music expert, Chuck, agreed.

Next day we took off for a bit of wine tasting, heading first for Chateau Margene, getting there before the gates opened at noon.

This is a beautiful property, as are nearly all the vineyards in this area.  We were after some more of the Sangiovese that Paul had poured on Thursday, and they didn’t disappoint.  We tried about eight wines, including some very-very-reserve stuff that went for $150 per bottle.  The guy pouring, nephew of the owner, said he goofed and opened that by mistake.  Actually, it wasn’t much different from the ones we liked at one-fifth the price.  We got a bottle of the 06 Cab, and one of the 06 “Cielo Rosso” which is 73% Sangiovese and the rest Cab.  These are great now, but will age for another few years.  They won’t last that long around here.

Next stop was one of our favorites, the Cass Winery. 

We’d been there before, and had a great lunch, so we were after the same.  They didn’t disappoint.  Along with tastes of about seven wines, we had splendid crab cakes, a yummy smoked chicken salad, Italian roast beef sandwich with creamy horseradish sauce, and a seven-course cheese sampler:

Rinconada Dairy Chapparral / Central Coast California / Raw sheep & goat's milk
Cypress Grove Midnight Moon / Netherlands / Pasteurized goat's milk
Bravo Farms Western Sage Cheddar / Central California / Raw cow's milk
Beemsters X - O Gouda / Netherlands / Pasteurized cow's milk
Paso Robles Cheese Co. Truffled Goat Cheese / Paso Robles / Pasteurized goat's milk
Rogue River Smokey Blue / Oregon / Raw cow's milk

Oh, yes, it was alllll goooood. 

We picked up two bottles of their 08 “Rockin One, a scrumptious blend of 80% Roussanne and 20% Marsanne.  I love trying grapes that I haven’t had before.  Actually, given what the radiation did to my taste buds, I’m ecstatic to be able to taste wine again at all!

One of the highlights of this trip to Cass was a visit with Anita, the men’s bathroom hostess:

Paul (in the hat in the picture above) is on a first-name basis with nearly every winery in the area, so we got the “Paul Discount” wherever we went.  He also belongs to various wine clubs, and had to pick up an order from one, so we swayed our way to Pipestone Vineyards .  No pictures from there, but but we came away with a bottle each of their 06 Grenache and Zinfandel.  Lip smacking yum, as Robert Parker probably wouldn’t say out loud.

After all this, it was back to Cass for the second concert.  Unlike Vina Robles, Cass had an open tasting and was pouring generously.  They also had some terrific hors d’oeuvres.  The concert this evening was held in the barrel room, which was pretty dark, so my flashless (required) photos didn’t come out.  Instead, here’s a shot of Chuck’s teacher giving a performance in the main room, with the barrel room in the background.

After the concert, which featured a pianist with a pounding left hand which drowned everything out, we went back to Paso in search of a later dinner.  We lucked out and found “Chico’s.”  This is literally a hole-in-the-wall, wedged almost invisibly between a Coldstone Creamery and Lombardi’s, an Italian place, all on the square; but do yourself a favor and eat there when you are in Paso.  The owner is the chef, a relative is the waitress, and the food is delicious.  The owner is a former cook at a seafood restaurant on the beach in Cambria, up the coast.  This is his first place of his own, and I hope he makes it.  I had fat, juicy, tender scallops in a garlic and caper sauce.  Oooooooohhhhmmmmm.

Saturday we stuck around the house and watched the Stanford – USC slaughter.  We were bouncing off the walls.  55-21!  Revenge for decades of being squashed by the pros from SC. 

We giggled our way off to an entirely forgettable early dinner at “Matthews” in Paso.  In a word, don’t.  I even sent my “Caesar” salad back with instructions to take it off my bill.  You don’t have to be a connoisseur to know that Caesars don’t come with:  tomato slices, greek olives, and red onion slices.  And, if you’re going to boast on the menu that it is prepared in a wood bowl rubbed with garlic (it wasn’t, admitted the hostess), then don’t serve wilted greens with fake bottled goop and call it a Caesar.  The less said the better about the rest of this turkey.  The main event of the festival was held in the 100+ year-old hall at the Paso Robles Inn.  This is a venue that Paderewski himself actually played in back in the early 1900s.  For those, like me, without a clue, Ignacy Jan Paderewski (b 1860, d 1941) was a virtuoso pianist, composer, politician (first Prime Ministers of independent Poland after WWI), and orator, who visited Paso Robles many times between 1914 and 1939, buying tracts of land and starting one of the earliest vineyards in the area.  The Festival was started in 1993 to commemorate his association with the area.  At the final event, the Poland Consul General from Los Angeles attended.  We had more good wine to taste, and this time had a top-notch performance by Polish pianist Hubert Rutkowski.

If you’ll indulge me, I was transfixed by this recital.  I had a great view of his hands.  My best description would be that he caressed the keys into submission.  I can appreciate, but not comprehend, talent like his.

OK, we return you now to the usual boorish reporting.  We had a grand time.  We made our way safely back to Paul’s (about 25 miles), tuned and retuned every sports recap we could find on the satellite about the Stanford win, and went to bed with Gerhart  pounding runs and Love pinpoint passes dancing in our heads.  Life is good.

Sunday morning it was blueberry waffles, thick-cut bacon, fresh ground coffee and oranges picked from Paul’s tree.  Thus endeth the Central Coast sojourn.

 

 

CALLING DADDY WARBUCKS

One month, nineteen checks, and still counting.  Yikes this remodel stuff is expensive.  We have made progress.  Hand made shutters by yours truly:

No place to clamp while gluing the crosspieces, so bricks and blocks it is.

 

New aluminum gutters from the mobile extruder truck;  good riddance to our previous seams ‘n sags setup.

New steps and walkways poured:

 

  

The old steps were filled in and the porch extended:

Meanwhile, there being no rest for the weary, Miss House & Garden TV of 2009 takes a breather in the finished dining room

before moving on to stripping the 80’s (what were we thinking?) paper out of the kitchen (yes, that plaid was everywhere)

and then sanding, washing, and priming everything in sight

Yes, I AM doing my share, but somebody’s got to be behind the camera, right?  Only seventeen cabinet doors to go.  Thank goodness we’re not hosting Thanksgiving this year!

CALLING BOB VILLA

It didn’t take a close examination to figure out that we shouldn’t try to make it through another winter (well, what passes for winter in SoCal) with our 25 year-old paint peeling to bare wood all over the house, windows falling apart, and the sotto voce mutterings of the neighbors.  So, our grand RV trip to the Pacific NW was postponed for the second time, the bank account pillaged, contracts signed, and we’re off on the grand adventure.  Remodeling.  Of course, paint leads to grander considerations in the distaff mind, and the house is getting a porch ceiling, new entry stairs, enlarged porch floor area, new front walks, new side walk, new window in the cave-den, and closing in all of the eave overhangs.  Yikes.

Up went the scaffolding (that’s Mom supervising from the porch):

Out came the shrubs:

And on went the first coat of “Restful Green:”

The color’s a little hard to make out, but it looks great in the flesh.  Pulling off the old siding to the right of the porch revealed decades-long-covered vents, one in front and one around the edge towards the garage door. 

Up went the rafters for the porch ceiling:

And then the tongue-in-groove planks:

Meanwhile, now that we have all this “time on our hands, wouldn’t it be great to redo the interior as well?  Hmmmmm?  Let’s start with the dining room.”  Start?

Let’s see.  Strip the wallpaper.  Sand the walls down.  Wash the walls.  Wash the ceiling.  Prime the ceiling and all the walls.  Ain’t this fun?  Not.

Well, one of us is having a good time.

The colors were a little shocking at first for Loni.  I loved them, but she took a while to warm up.  That wall on the left doesn’t really look that pink in real life; it’s more of a salmon.  The lines where they meet the ceiling will be covered with crown molding. 

The new window in the den has eliminated the cave.  As a bonus, it looks straight across the 12 feet to the window in the house next door, right down their hallway to their bedroom door.  Well, alrighty!

The new front path has been staked and scraped.  We might see cement this week.  We will of course have to deface it with names and date for posterity.  Or until the next owner bulldozes the place and builds a manse.

More to come!

NEW LOOK!

Panic not. It's the same old drivel in a new format. I got tired of the narrow column for the text, and chose this wider format. Of course, when it applied to all the old posts, the spacing with the pics got messed up, but what the heck. It's still pearls before swine, eh? :)

AT LAST :) :) :)

It’s only been nine years in the making, but they finally did it! Mike and Alia tied the knot in San Francisco on Saturday, August 29.

We drove up Thursday with Chuck and Alice and Mom and checked into the Park Galleria Hotel, the less-$ of the two hotels that Mike had made arrangements with. It was perfect for us – quiet (we asked for a “courtyard” (read, airshaft)) room away from the elevators and they set us up perfectly. It was dead quiet every night we were there. Mom’s streetside room was much noisier from traffic, sirens, etc., but she can just pop out her hearing aids. Walking distance of the BART/MUNI, even for Mom, so we garaged the van (at $35/night!) and took the trains and cabs all over. San Francisco is a great place for public transportation as long as you keep a nice supply of small bills and quarters on you. The BART is a cinch to buy tickets for, but the the MUNI trains are another kettle of fish altogether. No change machines and eight quarters required! That makes for a heavy purse/pocket. There was a nice place on the corner next to the hotel for breakfast serving steel-cut oatmeal (slow cooked) with all the fixins for $3! Yes! Given the cost of the rehearsal dinner, I took every bargain I could find.

Thursday night we got together with Mike, Alia, John, Meghan, Alia’s parents Lynn and Bill, and maid-of-honor Lissy, all the way from Spain for the wedding. Took the BART to the Mission district and had dinner at a nice Italian place on Mission Street, La Traviata. Lots of dark wood, guest photos on the walls, and very good food. I had calamari pasta with ink sauce. Excellent. I nearly fell out of my seat when the bill went directly to the other end of the table and John picked up the tab. Wow! That’s my boy! We sang along and applauded birthdays at two other tables and had a great time. Back to the BART for the ride to the hotel. S.F. was experiencing a record-setting heat wave. We’ve never ever been in S.F. and had it so balmy all evening long. This was a bit less desirable during the day – we sweated like pigs.

Friday the ladies all got together for nails (toes and fingers) and other “girly stuff” (their characterization you feminists, not mine). I went off with Chuck to visit with two of our fraternity brothers, Don and Paul at Don’s place in North Beach. Nice digs. From the roof there’s a view of the bay with Alcatraz, and from the other side Coit Tower and downtown. Not too shabby. We promptly reverted to our frat personas and had a rowdy lunch. Kinda scary how easy it is to regress. :P

Friday evening was the rehearsal at the church --- Most Holy Redeemer --- which introduced us to the frustrations of buying tickets for the MUNI train. Go prepared with plenty of change. Once we got to our stop we had to haul out the map and ask a passerby for directions to the church. S.F. is ground zero for confusing intersections. Not only do multiple angled streets meet up, but often they change names from one side to the other. Local knowledge is key. We were the first to arrive and proceeded to the basement meeting room and promptly stumbled in to the local AA meeting, all 150 of them. Back to the street to greet other members of the wedding party and then into the church for the run-through with all the bridesmaids (yup, seven of them!) and

the groomsmen. The church was beautiful, with the

alter placed in the middle. Very light and colorful.

Afterwards, everyone either took the MUNI or hailed cabs to head for the rehearsal dinner at the decidedly upscale Absinth restaurant, home of the $35 corkage fee. Yikes. Do ya think they want to sell their own wines? Weeks ago, I had poured over their 40+page wine list (2/3 French) and selected a couple of whites (a nice minerally Muscadet for me) and several reds after doing an internet vetting of those I was interested in. And I’ll be darned if they didn’t all turn out just fine. I tried two, and no one was complaining about the others. For thirty people, we drained enough bottles to make Julia giggle through a month’s worth of shows. I should have gone with Mike’s favorite dish, a pork confit which truly was superb (lucky Loni chose that), but as I had planned on drinking white I had the fish (they changed the risotto on us at the last minute, from wild mushroom –yum – to carrot [?!] and only one person ordered it). Unfortunately, the fish was overcooked. Oh, well, more wine, please. The chocolate pot-de-creme was luscious for dessert. The private room was very nice and the service was faultless, and everyone had a great time. The Bank of Dad is seeking a federal bailout.

Bill, Lynn, and Alia

Saturday was the big day. The “girls” again were getting together at the Omni with the distaff bridal party for makeup, hairdos, and general gab. The grooms and guys got together and essentially trashed Mike & Alia’s apartment watching sports before going out for burgers and

Clockwise from left: John, Me, Mike, Noah, Jason, Tony, John, Adam, Andrew, and Moe.

malts.

After stuffing our faces we went back to Mike’s and started getting into the penguin suits. A mess on top of a mess, but it all got sorted out and we took off walking to the church, looking for all the world as if we had escaped from a Ratpack movie.

At the church, the fun began when it turned out Mike had forgotten his check book to pay the musicians, who wouldn’t play without pay. Best Man John took off like a man possessed, commandeered a cab and shot back up the hill to fetch it. I caught the only shot of the bride arriving as the official photographer was MIA. The usual wedding glitch nonsense ensued (missed cues, late priest, etc.), but nobody really noticed. We only knew because I was standing in the wings next to the wedding planner who was hissing into her wireless from time to time. The music was well worth whatever they charged. Absolutely gorgeous. The processions went off without a hitch, and I didn’t trip Loni as I escorted her to her seat in her floor-length gown. My shots of the actual ceremony are pretty punk as I couldn’t use a flash or hold the camera visibly up (didn’t want to upset the official photog), but you get the idea.

Here, everyone is staring up at the balcony while the singing is going on . . . and on . . . and on. Much as I was enjoying it, it turns out they were singing multiple choruses when they were supposed to sing only the first. I’m glad they did, but Mike was getting fidgety. When it came time to sign the certificate, the bridal couple and their two witnesses, Stanford grads all (sigh), managed to sign in the wrong places so it has to be done over again before they can file it. Ah, well, it’s all good. Off in the trolley bus to the Green Room at the War Memorial Building for the reception. Here’s both of the Moms after exiting the rig.

We had the obligatory wedding party pics outside

and then went inside to pose for pics with the City Hall

(ain’t she cute!)

John and Meghan. Hmmmmmmm.

The tables were beautiful

as was the happy couple

and everyone had a super time. I’ve uploaded about 70-odd photos for those of you who just can’t get enough (or want to see your own mugs) at the following two “albums” on Picasa:

http://picasaweb.google.com/Calhounjon/Friday82809#

http://picasaweb.google.com/Calhounjon/Saturday82909#

Feel free to leave any comments you wish by clicking below (where it currently says "0 Comments").