(Jamie Ford, on my Kindle). A poignant story about a Chinese-American, growing up in Seattle at the beginning of World War II. Henry falls in love with a young Japanese girl before her family is interned in a relocation camp. It a very secretive relationship because his parents would highly disapprove. The story goes back to the 40’s and forward to the 1980’s when Henry is in his 50’s and his wife (not the Japanese woman) has just died of cancer. The story pulls you in from the first page, especially when some artifacts are found in the basement of an old hotel which contain personal belongings from several Japanese families who were suddenly taken away back in 1942. You can see where it’s going, can’t you? I heard criticism of this book that it was just a little bit contrived. Halfway through I’m enjoying it very much.
(Kathryn Stockett on my Kindle); if you haven’t heard about this book, you should! It’s a novel written from the voice of the black servants and some of the people they work for, all residents of Jackson, Mississippi. In the 1950’s. The maids generally are disrespected, still have to ride in the back of the bus, and some are prevented from using the bathroom in the houses where they work. The story is about a young woman (daughter of one of the society ladies) who decides to write a book about the stories of the maids. Anonymously. But not quite, of course. So it’s not only the stories themselves, but about the society-ladies’ relationships, and about the stealth required to interview the maids and write the book. And the repercussions when it’s published. A fantastic read.
by Jetta Carleton (Kindle edition); 
by Susan Richards (Kindle edition); 
by Sally Gunning (Kindle edition)
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(Mario Batali & Gweneth Paltrow); 
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We spent a couple of days on our boat in San Diego last week. Purportedly we went there to escape the heat and humidity. We didn’t, but that’s another story. Nevertheless, I took the opportunity to research some good restaurants in San Diego and made reservations. Casual attire is the order of the day when you’re on a boat, so I knew we needed places that were okay with casual but not scruffy clothes. My first go-to resource is always Alice Q Foodie. Alice’s blog is about food/recipes/restaurants, and down the right column she lists all of her favorite San Diego restaurants. For this trip, I wrote down seven possibilities, then discussed them with my DH.
We were going out with a dear friend, Tony. Dave and Tony became friends in about 1975 through business, and they’ve been fast friends ever since, with much of their common interests revolving around boats. Tony has a mammoth power boat – a Nordhaven 50 in case anyone is interested – a luxury boat of the first order which he docks sorta-kinda near our yacht club. Tony is Italian, lives in Fallbrook (a small town at the north end of San Diego County) so I phoned him several hours ahead of time and asked if he’d been to any of the restaurants on my list (only one was Italian). He hadn’t, but when I mentioned Arrivederci, he jumped on it. Tony is a very good cook in his own right, but he loves to discover new Italian places. We enjoyed some wine and cheese on his boat for an hour or so before we departed for the restaurant, located in North Park (just north of downtown San Diego).
I’d made reservations for 7 pm (if I’d known they didn’t have A/C, I’d have asked to sit on the patio). It was exceedingly warm that evening. My GPS usually works like a charm, but this time she (Trudi, we call her, the female voice in our GPS) could not even FIND Fourth St. Or 4th St. Oh well. We figured out how to get there despite the problem. Tony made a quick call to the restaurant to get the cross streets. After all, San Diego is my home town, though I haven’t lived there since about 1971.
As soon as we sat down, we ordered a bottle of Sicilian Nero d’Avola. We were seated in the back of the restaurant, as far back as the small restaurant goes, that is, without a puff of hot sticky air coming our way. It was warm. Very warm. The menu is huge. Too big for me. There were far too many choices, nearly all of which looked good. The specials of the day numbered over 20. At Alice’s blog, she highly recommended the Portobello (stuffed) appetizer, so we ordered it right away. It came, nestled on a plate of lightly dressed greens . We shared it. The large portobello was coated with lots of flavored breadcrumbs. The bites I got with cheese were wonderful. The bites without any cheese were quite mediocre. I’d probably request next time that I have extra cheese or something like that. To make darned sure! But it was good.
Dave ordered veal scallopine, which he said wasn’t memorable. Too bad. Tony and I both ordered the pork osso buco, which was absolutely outstanding. I mean out-of-this-world-outstanding. It was a tower of a shank of pork, so tender you cut it with a fork, as it fell off the bone. It was served, centered in a mounded pool of smooth, unctuous risotto. It was, without a doubt, the best restaurant risotto I’ve ever had. Thinly sliced mushrooms, swimming in some kind of dark, clear sauce were spooned over it. Oh my. I didn’t even eat half of it, so Dave and I shared what was left as a light dinner a couple of nights later. The leftover risotto certainly wasn’t as good as the first time around, but the pork was still tender and juicy. I may have dreams about that pork and risotto. Now, did I happen to mention to you how WARM it was in the restaurant? By the time we were mid-way through the main course, I was dripping. The hot food entering an already warm body made an uncomfortable combination. We left as soon as we could. Californians simply are NOT used to humidity higher than about 30-40%, so we get real miserable, impatient and intolerant when it’s any higher. I heard people saying it was up in the 80% range. I think the temperature was in the high 80’s. No wonder I was uncomfortable.
Arrivederci
3845 Fourth Avenue
San Diego, CA 92103
1.619.299.6282
So, to cool off, we zipped down Washington and stopped (how lucky we were to find one parking place within half a block) at Gelato Vero. I’ve mentioned this place before on my blog. They have the best-est gelato this side of Italy. The patriarch, from the old country, made gelato from his family’s prized recipes for decades. He’s now gone, but I hear his son is running the business. Our favorite is banana, but they didn’t have any of that flavor. All three of us ordered a medium cup. The bill? $13.78. Yikes. They charge by the ounce now, likely because the price of milk has gone up. We sat outside in the muggy heat, but loved the gelato! You don’t go there for the ambiance – it’s a tiny, cramped store, with a table or two inside and a few tables outside. Go outside and watch the traffic go by. Worth going to? Absolutely.
Gelato Vero
3753 India St.
San Diego, CA 92103
The next day, during the afternoon Dave took other friends of ours, Joe & Yvette, out for a day sail, along with Yvette’s 9-year old niece Vittoria. What a little doll she is! Dave said Vittoria was a natural at sailing – she took the helm for awhile and did an exceptional job keeping the boat lined up for maximum breeze. Dave was impressed!
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