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Here are the tastingspoons players. I’m in the middle (Carolyn). Daughter Sara on the right, and daughter-in-law Karen on the left. I started the blog in 2007, as a way to share recipes with my family. Now in 2023, I’m still doing 99% of the blogging and holding out hope that these two lovely and excellent cooks will participate. They both lead very busy lives, so we’ll see.

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BOOK READING (from Carolyn):

Under the Java Moon, by Heather Moore. Sometimes these WWII books are tough to read. This is a true story (written as fiction, though) about a few Dutch families who are taken prisoner on Java Island, by the Japanese. Certainly it’s a story about unbelievable deprivation and sadness, but also about resilience too. Not everyone survives, as you could guess, but you’ll be rooting for young Rita who takes on so many responsibilities far beyond her 6-year old’s abilities. I read this because a dear friend of mine’s husband (now deceased) was in the Army during WWII and spent a lot of his duty in Indonesia and had horrific stories to tell about the weather and environment (awful!). A period of his life he liked to forget. The book certainly brings that period and place to the forefront. I’m glad I read it.

Never in a million years would I have picked up Blind Your Ponies, by Stanley Gordon West. If I’d read the cover or flap that the bulk of the story is about basketball, I’d have put it back on the shelf. But oh, this book is – yes, about basketball, but it’s about a place in time in Montana, a few decades ago, when a tiny town supported their high school team. It’s about a dream. About the town who believed in them. About a tall young man who comes to lives in the town, and his deliverance, really, from a pretty awful background as he plays basketball, when he’d never played before. It’s about relationships, marriages, families and about how this little team makes it. Such a great story and SO glad I read it.

A Girl Called Samson, by Amy Harmon. I’m a fan of anything written by Harmon, and this one delivered as all her books do. 1760, Massachusetts. Deborah Samson is an indentured servant but yearns for independence. From being a rather tall, skinny kid (a girl) to faking it as a young soldier (a young man) in the Continental army. You’ll marvel at her ability to hide her true self. It’s quite a story. She’s thrown into the worst of situations in the war and comes through with flying colors. You’ll find yourself rooting for her and also fearing mightily that she’s going to either get killed, or be “found out,” by some of the men. Riveting story beginning to end. There’s a love interest here too which is very sweet.

On Mystic Lake, by Kristin Hannah. This is a book Hannah wrote some years ago, and tells the story of a woman, Annie, who finds out (on the day their daughter goes off to a foreign land for an exchange quarter) that her husband is in love with another woman and leaves her. Annie, who has been the quintessential perfect corporate wife, is devastated. She felt blind-sided. She cries and wallows, but eventually she returns home to her small town, where her widowed dad lives, in Washington. There she runs into many people she knew and at first feels very out of place. Slowly, she finds the town more welcoming and she helps a previous boyfriend, now widowed with his young daughter. A connection is there. Annie has to find herself, and she definitely does that. Her husband rears his head (of course he does!) after several months, and Annie has to figure out what to do. I don’t want to give away the story. Lots of twists and turns.

The Vineyard, by Barbara Delinsky. A novel with many current day issues. Husband and wife own a vineyard in Rhode Island. Husband dies. Widow soon (too soon) marries the manager, a hired employee, much to the consternation of her two grown children. Widow hires woman as personal assistant (much of the book comes from her voice) and she gets entangled into the many webs, clinging from the many decades the winery has tried to be successful. Really interesting. Lots of plot twists, but all revolving around work of the vineyard. Cute love story too. It wouldn’t be a Delinsky book without that aspect.

Consequences, Penelope Lively. I’ve always loved this author’s writing style. Have read many of her books. This one follows a rather dotted line family, the women, as they grow through worn-torn London and England. There’s poverty and both major events and minor ones that send the story’s trajectory in new directions. Riveting for me. Lively won the Booker Prize for Moon Tiger, her most famous book.

Below Zero, C.J. Box. Mystery of the first order. A Joe Pickett novel (he’s a game warden in Wyoming) with a family member thought dead is suddenly alive. Or is she? Joe’s on the hunt to find out. I don’t read these books at night – too scary. I love his books, though.

Consolations of the Forest: Alone in a Cabin on the Siberian Taiga, by Sylvain Tesson. I’m not sure what possessed me to read this book. About a late 30s guy who seems to crave solitude; he’s offered a 11×11 cabin in the cold/frozen Siberian outback, on a huge lake that freezes over in winter. Here’s a quote from the book: “A visit to my wooden crates. My supplies are dwindling. I have enough pasta left for a month and Tabasco to drench it in. I have flour, tea and oil. I’m low on coffee. As for vodka, I should make it to the end of April.” Vodka plays large in this book. Tesson (who is French, with Russian heritage) is a gifted writer, about the wilderness, the flora and fauna, about the alone-ness, the introspection. Mostly he ate pasta with Tabasco. No other sauce. Many shots of vodka every day. Drunkenness plays a serious role too – what else is there to do, you might ask? He lived there for about a year. I’d have lasted a week, no more.

The Auburn Conference by Tom Piazza. Another one, given my druthers I’m not sure I’d have picked up. For one of my book clubs. Excellent writing. 1883, upstate NY. A young professor decides to make a name for himself and puts on an event, inviting many literary luminaries of the day (Mark Twain, Frederick Douglass, Herman Melville, Forrest Taylor and a romance novelist [the outlier] Lucy Comstock). Part panel discussion, part private conversations, the author weaves a tale of discord, some moderate yelling, some rascism and much ridicule of the romance novelist. Also some words of wisdom, maybe not from the authors you’d have expected. Unusual book.

As Bright as Heaven, by Susan Meissner. 1918. Philadelphia. About a young family arriving with the highest of hopes. Then the Spanish Flu hits and dashes everything. You’ll learn a whole lot about that particular virulent flu and the tragic aftermath. Really good read.

Hour of the Witch, by Chris Bohjalian. Boston, 1662. A young woman becomes the 2nd wife of a powerful man, a cruel man. She determines to leave him, something just “not done” back then. Twists and turns, she’s accused of being a witch. Story of survival, and a redeeming love too.

My Oxford Year, by Julia Whelan. At 24, a young woman is honored with a Rhodes Scholarship to Oxford. She’s older than most of her fellow classmates, and as an American, doesn’t fit in very well. She’s left a good job back home, but determines to try to work some for the political campaign job she’s left, and also do the work for her Oxford scholarship. She meets a professor. Oh my. Such an interesting book. I loved learning about the culture of Oxford, and there’s a fascinating romance too, somewhat a forbidden one with said professor.

Madame Pommery, by Rebecca Rosenberg. I love champagne. Have read a number of books over the years (novels) about the region (and I’ve visited there once). This is real history, though in a novelized form. Madame Pommery was widowed, and determined she would blaze a trail that was not well received (no women in the champagne business for starters). And she decides to make a different, less sweet version. She’s hated and reviled, but sticks to her guns, veering away from the then very sweet version all the winemakers were producing. Fascinating story.

The Wager, by David Grann. A true tale of shipwreck, mutiny and murder back in the 1740s. Not exactly my usual genre of reading, but once I heard about the book, I decided I needed to read it. This is a novelized version of the story, based on the facts of an English shipwreck, first off Brazil, then later off Chile. Of the men, their struggle to survive (and many didn’t). Yes, there’s murder involved, and yes, there’s mutiny as well. Those who survived stood trial back in England many years later. Riveting read.

Before We Were Yours, by Lisa Wingate. 1939. A shantyboat in the backwaters of the Mississippi River. A 12-year old girl is left to care for her younger siblings when her mother is taken ill. A mystery ensues, and soon officials chase these youngsters to take them into an orphanage, one that became infamous for “selling” the children, weaving wild tales of their provenance. Dual timeline, you read about a successful young attorney who returns home to help her father, and questions come up about the family history. Fascinating read. You’ll learn about this real abominable woman, Georgia Tann, who profited by her “sales.”

The Vaster Wilds, by Lauren Goff. This tells the story of a young servant girl, in the aftermath of the starvation in Jamestown, the beleaguered town that virtually disappeared because the people weren’t prepared for the harshness of survival in those days. She escapes before the demise of the town and heads west, with nothing but the clothes she’s wearing. She survives longer than you might think, and encounters a lot of interesting experiences and people. Very interesting historical read.

Lady Tan’s Circle of Woman, Lisa See. Historical fiction, from 1469, Ming Dynasty, China. Based on the true story, however, about a young woman mostly raised by her grandmother who is a well known physician. Her grandfather is a scholarly physician, her grandmother, more an herbalist, or like a pharmacist of the day. Tan eventually marries into a family and is immediately subjugated by the matriarch, who won’t allow her to practice any of her healing arts. Quite a story, and also about how she eventually does treat women (women “doctors” were only allowed to treat women) as a midwife and herbalist. You’ll learn a whole lot about the use of flowers and herbs for healing and about the four humors.

Winter Garden, by Kristen Hannah. Quite a story, taking place in Washington State with apple orchards forming a backdrop and family business. Two sisters, never much friends even when they were young, return home to help care for their ailing father. Their mother? What an enigma. She took no part in raising them, yet she lived in the home. She cooked for the family, but rarely interacted. Yet her father adored his wife, their mother. How do they bridge the gulf between each other and also with their mother. Another page turner from Kristen Hannah.

Trail of the Lost, by Andrea Lankford. Not my usual genre. This is nonfiction, about Lankford who has plenty of credentials for rescue services, and is an avid hiker herself, determines to try to find some missing people who have disappeared off the face of the earth on the Pacific Crest Trail. It’s about how rescues work, everything from the disconnect between active citizens who want to help, and seemingly the unwillingness of authorities to share information. Not exactly a positive for law enforcement in this book. Really fascinating. There are hundreds of people who have disappeared off various long hike trails in the U.S. This is about four who were hiking (separately and at different times) on the PCT.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow and Tomorrow, by Gabrielle Zevin. I’ve never been a “gamer.” Not by any standard definition, anyway. Not like people who really get into games, adventure, killers, etc. And this book isn’t a game .. . but it’s a novel (and a great story, I might add) about how these games come into being. How they’re invented, how they morph. First there were two college students, then a third person is added, and they end up creating a wildly popular game. A company is born. And it goes from there. Mostly it’s about the people, their relationships, but set amidst the work of creating and running a gaming company. Not all fun and games, pun intended.

Remarkably Bright Creatures, by Shelby Van Pelt. Oh gosh, what a fabulous book. It’s a novel; however, much of the story is about the intelligence of octopus. In particular this one, Marcellus, who lives in an aquarium in a fictitious town in western Washington State. More than anything the book is about relationships, not only Marcellus with a woman (of a certain age) who cleans the aquarium at night, but the various people in this small town.

Trust, by Herman Diaz. This novel is an enigma in so many ways. It’s a book, within a book, within a book. About the stock market crash back in 1929, but it’s about a man. Oh my. It’s really interesting. This book won the Pulitzer. That’s why I bought it.

Cassidy Hutchinson is a young woman (a real one) who works in politics or “government.” She’s worked for some prestigious Washington politicians, and ended up working for Trump. The book is a memoir of her short spin working at the highest levels, and obviously at the White House. She worked under Mark Meadows and suffered a lot of ridicule when she quit. Truth and lies . . . when she couldn’t live with herself and subvert the truth. Enough, gives you plenty of detail leading up to and after the January 6th uprising. She testified to Congress about what she knew. Really interesting. I almost never read books about politics because I think many (most?) of our elected politicians succumb to the lure of power and forget who they work for, us, the public.

Becoming Dr. Q, by Alfredo Quiñones-Hinojosa, MD, is an Associate Professor of Neurosurgery and Oncology at Johns Hopkins University. This is his memoir about how he went from being a penniless migrant from Mexico to one of the world’s most renowned experts in brain tumors.

The Invincible Miss Cust, by Penny Haw.  In 1868 Ireland, a woman wasn’t allowed to attend veterinary school, much less become a veterinarian. It took  years of trying (to the horror of her aristocratic family) and finally someone took her under their wing, she enrolled using a pseudonym (a name not revealing her gender). This is a true story of Aleen Isabel Cust, who did just that.

Her Heart for a Compass, by Sarah Ferguson (yes), the Duchess of York. I was pleasantly surprised as I read this book that it wasn’t the usual romantic romp – there’s more to this story than you might think. Ferguson utilizes some of her family ancestors as real characters in the book. Sweet story but with lots of twists and turns.

Someone Else’s Shoes, by Jojo Moyes.Nisha, our heroine, is a wealthy socialite. She thinks her life is perfect. At the gym someone else grabs her gym bag, so she grabs the similar one. Then she finds out her husband is leaving her and he’s locked her out of their high-rise apartment. She’s penniless. No attorney will take her on. She has nothing but this gym bag belonging to someone else (who?).

The Eleventh Man, Ivan Doig. What a story. Ben, part of a Montana college football team in the 1940s, joins the service during WWII. So do all of his eleven teammates. After suffering some injuries in pilot training he is recruited by a stealthy military propaganda machine. His job is to write articles about his teammates as they are picked off at various battle theaters around the Pacific and Europe. Ben goes there, in person, to fuel the stories. Ivan Doig is a crafty writer; I’ve read several of his books, my favorite being The Whistling Season.

Wavewalker, by Suzanne Heywood. Oh my goodness. A memoir about a very young English girl who goes off with her besotted and narcissistic parents and her brother on a years-long sailing journey supposedly following the route of James Cook. A very old, decrepit 70-foot schooner. Four people, 2 sort-of adults and 2 children. Sometimes a helper or two. A seasick mother. A dad who is driven to the extreme, whatever the damage he creates. She spent 10 years aboard.

Claire Keegan wrote Small Things Like These. It’s won a lot of awards, and shortlisted for the Booker Prize. Takes place in Ireland. Some profound questions come up in this novella, about complicity, about restitution. There’s a convent nearby, and attached one of those places young girls were sent if they found themselves “in the family way,” and about how the church helped, supposedly, by taking the children and placing them in homes, without consent. It’s ugly, the truth of the matter. Really good read.

Nicholas Sparks isn’t an author I read very often because his books are pretty sappy, but daughter Sara recommended this one, The Longest Ride. It begins with Ira (age 93), stuck in his car as it plunges off the edge of a road, and it’s snowing. As the hours tick by, he reminisces about his life.

The Neuroscientist Who Lost Her Mind, by Barbara Lipska. Interesting that I’ve read two books recently about the brain (see Doctor Q above). This is a true story about a woman, a neuroscientist, who developed a metastatic melanoma in the brain.

The Price of Inheritance, by Karin Tanabe. This is a mystery, of sorts. Our heroine is an up and coming employee at Christie’s (auction house). In bringing a large collection of expensive art to auction, she makes a misstep about the provenance of a desk. She’s fired. She goes back to her roots, takes a job at a small antique store where she used to work.

The Covenant of Water, by Abraham Verghese. Did you read Cutting for Stone, years ago, by this author? Such a good book, so I knew I’d enjoy this one, and oh, did I!. The book takes place in a little known area of southern India, and chronicles a variety of people over a few generations, who inhabit the place.

Finding Dorothy, by Elizabeth Letts. My friend Dianne recommended this book to me, and it was so special. Loved it beginning to end. It’s based on the story of 77-year old Maud Gage Baum (her husband Frank Baum wrote The Wizard of Oz).

The Bandit Queens, by Parini Shroff. It’s about a young Indian woman, Geeta, as she tries her best to make a living after her husband leaves her. Yet the community she lives in, thinks Geeta murdered him.

Attribution, by Linda Moore. We follow art historian Cate, as she struggles to succeed in her chosen field against sexist advisors. She finds what she thinks is a hidden painting.

The Measure, Nikki Erlick. Oh my goodness. This story grabbed me from about the third sentence. Everyone in the world finds a wooden box on their doorstep, or in front of their camper or tent, that contains a string. Nothing but a string. The author has a vivid imagination (I admire that) and you just will not believe the various reactions (frenzy?) from people who are short-stringers, or long-stringers.

The Book Spy by Alan Hlad. True stories, but in novel form, of a special Axis group of men and women librarians and microfilm specialists, sent to strategic locations in Europe to acquire and scour newspapers, books, technical manuals and periodicals, for information about German troop locations, weaponry and military plans of WWII. I was glued to the book beginning to end. Fascinating accounts.

A Dangerous Business, Jane Smiley. What a story. 1850s gold rush, story of two young prostitutes, finding their way in a lawless town in the Wild West. There’s a murder, or two, or three, or some of the town’s prostitutes, and the two women set out to solve the crime.

Storm Watch, by C. J. Box. I’m such a fan of his tales of Wyoming Game Warden Joe Pickett’s adventures catching criminals. Loved it, just like I’ve loved every one of his books.

Defiant Dreams, by Sola Mahfouz. True story about the author, born in Afghanistan in 1996. This is about her journey to acquire an education. It’s unbelievable what the Taliban does to deter and forbid women from bettering themselves.

Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh. This is fairly light read, a novel – but interesting, about the meaning behind many flowers.

The Rome Apartment, by Kerry Fisher. Such a cute story. Maybe not an interesting read for a man. It’s about Beth, whose husband has just left her, and her daughter has just gone off to college. Beth needs a new lease on life, so she rents a room from a woman who lives in Rome.

All the Beauty in the World, a memoir by Patrick Bringley. Absolutely LOVED this book. Bringley was at loose ends and accepted a job as a guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC. He’d been a journalist at The New Yorker magazine, but after his brother was ill and died, he needed refreshing. After his training at the museum, he moves from room to room, guarding the precious art, and learning all about the pieces and the painters or sculptors.

The Queen’s Lady, by Joanna Hickson. I love stories about Tudor England, and this one didn’t disappoint. Joan Guildford is a lady in waiting to Queen Elizabeth. Oh my goodness are there twists and turns.

Once in awhile I’m ready to read another Louise Penny mystery. This time it was World of Curiosities. Usually I’d write something wonderful regarding “another tome about Three Pines.” Not going to say it this time. Three Pines becomes a sinister place. Murders (many).

Over the years I’ve read many of Jodi Picoult’s books. This, her newest, or very new, is called Mad Honey. Oh, my. This book is beyond Picoult’s usual borders, but then she always writes edgy books. That’s her genre. This one is written with a co-author, a woman who is gay (I think) and also a trans-gender.

Philippa Gregory is one of my fav authors. Just finished her 3rd (and last, I think) in the Fairmile series called Dawnlands. If you scroll down below you’ll find the 2nd book in the series, Tidelands. Very interesting about English history, but about the same families from the first book in the group. Loved it, as I loved all of them.

Am currently reading Rutherfurd’s long, long book, Paris. I love these involved historical novels about a place (he’s written many about specific places in the world). It’s a saga that goes back and forth in time, following the travails of various people and families, through thick and thin. Some of it during the era of the King Louis’ (plural, should I say Louies?). Very interesting about some of the city’s history and royalty.

Although this book says A Christmas Memory, by Richard Paul Evans, it’s not just about Christmas. A young boy is the hero here, but really an older widower man who lives next door plays a pivotal part of this book.

Wish You Were Here, by Jodi Picoult. Another page-turner. I loved this book. A thirty-something woman, about to take a trip with her boyfriend, when Covid breaks out. Covid plays a major role in this book, beginning to end. She decides to go anyway as her boyfriend is a doctor and cannot leave. She ends up on a remote Galapagos island, and you go along with her – with people she meets, the life she leads, the isolation she experiences, the loneliness she feels, but the joy of nature is a sustaining aspect.

Not everyone wants to read food memoirs. When I saw Sally Schmitt had written a memoir, titled Six California Kitchens, I knew I wanted to read it. I met Sally a few times over the years when I visited Napa Valley, and bought some of her famous pickled items, chutneys, jams, etc. She was the original chef at The French Laundry, before it became truly famous by Thomas Keller.

Being a fan of Vivian Howard (from her TV show), when I saw she’d written another book, I knew I should buy it. This Will Make It Taste Good is such an unusual name for a cookbook, but once you get into the groove of the book, you’ll understand. What’s here are recipes for some “kitchen heroes” she calls them. They’re condiments. They’re food additions, they’re flavor enhancers.

As soon as it came out, I ordered Spare, by Prince Harry. I’ve always been interested in the Royal Family.

Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri. Usually I don’t seek out short stories. I might have purchased this book without realizing it was. There aren’t that many stories – each one gets you very ingrained in the characters. I love her writing, and would think each story in this book could be made into a full-fledged novel.

A Lantern in Her Hand, by Beth Streeter Aldrich. A very interesting and harrowing story of early pioneer days in the Midwest (Nebraska I think); covered wagon time up to about 80 years later as the heroine, Abbie Deal, and her husband start a family in a small town.

The Messy Lives of Book People, by Phaedra Patrick. From amazon’s page: Mother of two Liv Green barely scrapes by as a maid to make ends meet, often finding escape in a good book while daydreaming of becoming a writer herself. So she can’t believe her luck when she lands a job housekeeping for her personal hero, mega-bestselling author Essie Starling, a mysterious and intimidating recluse.

Four Seasons in Rome by Anthony Doerr. I’m a fan of this author and relished reading his book about a year in his personal life, with his wife and very new, newborn twins. Doerr was given an auspicious award – a year of study in Rome, with apartment and a stipend. There are four chapters, by season.

Kristin Hannah’s Distant Shores is quite a read. Some described it as like a soap opera. Not me. Interesting character development of a couple who married young. She put her own career/wants/desires aside to raise their children. He forged ahead with his life dreams. The children grow up and move on. Then he’s offered a huge promotion across the country. She’s torn – she doesn’t want to be in New York, but nothing would get in the way of his career.

Oh, William! by Elizabeth Strout. Lucy Barton is divorced. But she’s still sort of friendly with her ex. It’s complicated. Out of the blue he asks her to go on a trip with him to discover something about his roots.

Tidelands,  by Philippa Gregory. It tells the tale of a peasant woman, Alinor (an herbalist and midwife), who lives barely above the poverty level, trying to raise two children, during the time of great turmoil in England, the rancorous civil war about Charles 1.

Read Reminders of Him, by Colleen Hoover. A page turner of a story. A young woman is convicted of a crime (young and foolish type). Once released her sole purpose is to be a part of her daughter’s life.

The Last Anniversary by Liane Moriarty. Oh my goodness. The wicked webs we weave. How in the world did the author even come UP with this wild story, but she did, and it kept me glued. Sophie walked away from her wedding day, and always wondered if she made the wrong decision.

Very funny and poignant story, Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont, by Elizabeth Taylor (no, not that one). Mrs. Palfrey, a woman of a certain age, moves into an old folks’ home in London. It’s a sort of hotel, but has full time elderly quirky residents.

For one of my book clubs we read Lessons in Chemistry, by Bonnie Garmus. This book is so hard to describe. Elizabeth is a wizard at chemistry and struggles to be recognized for her intelligence and research. She meets a man at her company who is brilliant too. They make quite a pair. They have a child, then he suddenly dies. Her work isn’t taken seriously, so she leaves her employment and becomes an overnight phenom on a cooking show where she uses the chemical names for things like sodium chloride, etc. You go alongside her struggles, and her raising of her daughter. LOTS of humor, lots to discuss for a book club.

Horse. Oh my, is it a page turner. Loved it from the first page to the last. Sad when it ended. It’s a fictional creation but based on a real racehorse owned by a black man, back in the 1850s. Technically, the story is about a painting of the horse but there are many twists and turns. If you’ve ever enjoyed Brooks’ books in the past, this one won’t disappoint.

The Book of Lost Names, by Kristin Harmel (no, not Hannah). Certainly a little-known chunk of history about a woman who becomes a master forger during WWII to help get Jewish children out of France. Not easy to read, meaning the difficulty of anyone finding the means and place to DO the forgery and right under the noses of the Nazis. Really good read.

Liane Moriarty’s first novel, Three Wishes, follows the travails of adult triplets, so different, yet similar in many ways. Two are identical, the third is not. So alike, and so not. It takes you through a series of heart-wrenching events, seemingly unrelated, but ones that could bring a family to its breaking point and test the bonds of love and strength.

Recently I’ve read both of Erin French’s books, her cookbook, The Lost Kitchen, and since then her memoir, Finding Freedom. About her life growing up (difficult) about her coming of age mostly working in the family diner, flipper burgers and fries (and learning how much she liked to cook). Now she’s a very successful restaurant entrepreneur (The Lost Kitchen is also the name of her restaurant) in the minuscule town of Freedom, Maine. She’s not a classically trained chef, but she’s terrifically creative. See her TV series on Discover+ if you subscribe.

Jo Jo Moyes has a bunch of books to her credit. And she writes well, with riveting stories. Everything I’ve read of hers has been good. This book, The Girl You Left Behind, is so different, so intriguing, so controversial and a fascinating historical story. There are two timelines here, one during WWI, in France, when a relatively unknown painter (in the style of Matisse) paints a picture of his wife. The war intervenes for both the husband and the wife.

Eli Shafak’s Island of Missing Trees. This book was just a page turner. If you’ve never read anything about the conflict in Cyprus (the island) between the Turks and the Greeks, you’re in for a big history lesson here. But, the entire story centers around a fig tree. You get into the head/brain/feelings of this big fig tree which plays a very central part of the story. You’ll learn a lot about animals, insects (ants, mosquitos, butterflies) and other flora and fauna of Cyprus.

Also read Apples Never Fall by Liane Moriarty. Ohhh my, such a good book. I couldn’t put it down. Whatever you do, do not read the ending before you start the book. I’ve never understood people who do this. The book chronicles the day a mom just ups and disappears. The grown children come back home, in panic. The dad isn’t much help, and he becomes the prime suspect of foul play. There is no body, however.

If you’d like a mystery read, try Dete Meserve’s The Space Between. It’s just the kind of page-turner I enjoy – a wife returns to her home after being away on business for a few days, to find her husband missing and what he’s left for her is an unexplained bank deposit of a million dollars, a loaded Glock in the nightstand, and a video security system that’s been wiped clean.

Read Alyson Richman’s historical novel called The Velvet Hours. Most of the book takes place in Paris, with a young woman and her grandmother, a very wealthy (but aging) woman who led a life of a semi-courtesan. Or at least a kept woman. But this grandmother was very astute and found ways to invest her money, to grow her money, and to buy very expensive goods. Then WWII intervenes, and the granddaughter has to close up her grandmother’s apartment, leaving it much the way it had been throughout her grandmother’s life, to escape the Nazis. Years go by, and finally answers are sought and found. An intriguing book, based on the author’s experience with an apartment that had been locked up similarly for decades, also in Paris.

Susan Meissner is one of my favorite authors. This book, The Nature of Fragile Things tells a very unusual story. About a young Irish immigrant, desperate to find a way out of poverty, answers an ad for a mail order bride.

Also read Rachel Hauck’s The Writing Desk. You could call this a romance. A young professional, a writer of one successful book, has writer’s block. Then she’s asked to go to Florida to help her mother (from whom she’s mostly estranged) through chemo. She goes, hoping she can find new inspiration.

Also recently finished The Weight of Ink by Rachel Kadish. The book goes backwards and forwards in time, from the 1600s in London with the day-to-day lives of a group of Jews (who had to be very careful about how they worshiped) to current day as an old house is discovered to hold a treasure-trove of historical papers.

Colleen Hoover has written quite a book, It Ends with Us: A Novel, with a love story being the central theme, but again, this book is not for everyone – it can be an awakening for any reader not acquainted with domestic violence and how such injury can emerge as innocent (sort of) but then becomes something else. There is graphic detail here.

Nicolas Barreau’s novel Love Letters from Montmartre: A Novel  is very poignant, very sweet book. Seems like I’ve read several books lately about grieving; this one has a charming ending, but as anyone who has gone through a grave loss of someone dear knows, you can’t predict day to day, week to week. “Snap out of it,” people say, thinking they’re helping.

Another very quirky book, that happens to contain a lot of historical truth is The Phone Booth at the Edge of the World: A Novel by Harry N. Abrams. Set in Japan just after the tsunami 10 years ago when 18,000 people died. At a private park miles away, some very special people installed a phone booth, with a phone (that didn’t work) at the edge of the park, and the survivors of the tsunami began wending their way there to “talk” to their deceased loved ones. Very poignant story.

No question, the most quirky book I’ve read of late, a recommendation from my friend Karen, West with Giraffes: A Novel by Lynda Rutledge. Back in the 1930s a small group of giraffes were brought across the Atlantic from Africa to New York, destined for the then-growing San Diego Zoo. The story is of their journey across the United States in the care of two oh-so-different people, both with a mission.

Could hardly put down Krueger’s book, This Tender Land: A Novel. Tells the harrowing story of a young boy, Odie, (and his brother Albert) who became orphans back in the 30s. At first there is a boarding school, part of an Indian (Native American) agreement, though they are not Indian. They escape, and they are “on the run.”

Just finished Kristin Hannah’s latest book, The Four Winds: A Novel. What a story. One I’ve never read about, although I certainly have heard about the “dust bowl” years when there was a steady migration of down-and-out farmers from the Midwest, to California, for what they hoped to be the American Dream. It tells the story of one particular family, the Martinellis, the grandparents, their son, his wife, and their two children.

Also finished reading Sue Monk Kidd’s recent book, The Book of Longings: A Novel. It is a book that might challenge some Christian readers, as it tells the tale of Jesus marrying a woman named Mary. I loved the book from the first word to the last one. The book is believable to me, even though the Bible never says one way or the other that Jesus ever married. It’s been presumed he never did. But maybe he did?

Jeanine Cummins has written an eye-opener, American Dirt. A must read. Oh my goodness. I will never, ever, ever look at Mexican (and further southern) migrants, particularly those who are victims of the vicious cartels, without sympathy. It tells the story of a woman and her young son, who were lucky enough to hide when the cartel murdered every member of her family – her husband, her mother, and many others. It’s about her journey and escape to America.

Also read JoJo Moyes’ book, The Giver of Stars. Oh gosh, what a GREAT book. Alice joins the Horseback Librarians in the rural south.

Frances Liardet has written a blockbuster tale, We Must Be Brave. I can’t recommend this book highly enough. Although the scene is WWII England, this book is not really about the war. It’s about the people at home, waiting it out, struggling with enough food, clothing and enough heat.

William Kent Krueger wrote Ordinary Grace. From amazon: a brilliantly moving account of a boy standing at the door of his young manhood, trying to understand a world that seems to be falling apart around him. It is an unforgettable novel about discovering the terrible price of wisdom and the enduring grace of God. It’s a coming of age story.

A Column of Fire: A Novel by Ken Follett. It takes place in the 1500s, in England, and has everything to do with the war between the Catholics and the Protestants, that raged throughout Europe during that time, culminating in the Spanish Inquisition.

My Name Is Resolute by Nancy Turner. She’s the author of another book of some renown, These is my Words:

The Shepherd’s Life: Modern Dispatches from an Ancient Landscape by James Rebanks. This is a memoir, so a true story, of a young man growing up in the Lake District of Northern England, who becomes a shepherd. Not just any-old shepherd – actually a well educated one. He knows how to weave a story.

 

Tasting Spoons

My blog's namesake - small, old and some very dented engraved silver plated tea spoons that belonged to my mother-in-law, and I use them to taste my food as I'm cooking.

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Posted in Travel, on September 27th, 2008.

bark-beetle.jpg

Photo from the Cedar City Review, October 2005, showing the devastation by bark beetles in Cedar Breaks National Monument.  

So, a couple of days ago we saw Zion, and headed right out afterwards, taking the circuitous highway east of the Park, over the Mt. Carmel Highway. Lots of tunnels – even had to wait in line at one spot as they only allowed single file in the longest of them. The scenery was spectacular, with small bits and pieces that looked more like Bryce Canyon than Zion. Then we headed north and went to Cedar Breaks. This isn’t a place most people visit – it’s a National Monument, not a National Park. I remembered it from a trip once before and knew it was beautiful. Well, that is, until the Bark Beetles came to town. Several years ago the bark beetle made a foray in the direction of Cedar Breaks. It looks almost like a forest fire had gone through, yet none of the trees were black. We couldn’t figure it out. There were a few aspens decorated in autumn finery, but not many. We headed up. And up. And up. Finally we got to over 10,000 feet and found the hotel I’d reserved. In the winter the area teems with skiers, but summer is slow, so there’s only one hotel open. The Cedar Breaks Lodge. Had a nice dinner – I wasn’t expecting much in a remote place like that – but it was exceptionally good. And it was there we heard the story about the bark beetle and how it has just devastated the forest around Cedar Breaks. The hotel staff shared that the environmentalists won out – to allow the bark beetle to do its thing – rather than use any kind of pesticide to eradicate them.

After a long day of driving we were tired and went to bed early. I didn’t sleep well, however. Actually got up and played games on my laptop from about 3 – 6 am. I mean it’s really bad when you play solitaire on your laptop in a hotel room. My DH was awake too some of the time, and we finally figured out we were suffering from altitude sickness. He ended up doing most of the driving the next day because I really didn’t feel all that great.

Here’s what we learned about altitude sickness:

  • It’s a good idea for the first 24 hours to take it easy (well, we did, sort of)
  • Exertion of any kind is not recommended, like carrying suitcases up a flight of stairs (oops)
  • It’s a good idea to eat lightly (oops – it was so good, we cleaned our plates)
  • It’s not a good idea to drink alcohol for the first 24 hours (oops, we both had wine with dinner)
  • It’s a good idea to stay hydrated (oops – we couldn’t figure out why there were humidifiers in every room – finally at 2:30 am I filled it up and turned it on – that helped plus the tall glasses of water we both drank at about 3:00 am)
  • Dizziness and headaches are common effects of altitude sickness (uh, yep, had both of those)
  • Nausea is also a common effect (uh, yep, had that too, and the other one we won’t go into here)
  • Sleeplessness, or other sleep disorders are also common (oh yea, had that big time)
  • And maybe most important: it’s a good idea to take any pictures you want before you get sick because later – like the next day – you won’t feel like it.

Posted in Travel, on September 26th, 2008.

Zion National Park

Traveling certainly is a mixed bag of internet service. I was supposed to have service at last night’s hotel, but my computer would not connect. Just wouldn’t. But, they charged me $9 anyway. I’ll have to phone THAT place and give them a little piece of my mind.

We did, finally, leave Las Vegas and headed northeast toward Zion National Park in Utah. Took longer to get there than planned, but made the afternoon tour bus in the Park. That place is just so awesome. The only word that comes to mind is majestic.

In case any of you haven’t been to Zion in awhile (yep, that’s me) you can no longer drive into Zion in your own car. For some years now they have been using propane powered buses to take visitors up the 6 miles in, and 6 miles back. There are lots of stops along the way where you can get off and hike (short, long, strenuous or not). We heard a really interesting story along one section. . . About halfway into the park there is a Lodge. If you have reservations, you get the coveted red pass that allows you to drive your car that far. (I tried to make such reservations several months ago, but they were booked up.) I don’t remember the year the incident happened, but during the night a rock slide occurred (not common, but it happens sometimes). It wasn’t until someone started up the narrow road did they discover it was completely obliterated. The river that runs alongside the two-lane road was dammed up too, although it post haste found another route to divert. There were 300 people at the Lodge that night (guests and employees). None of them could get out. Somehow, within about 24-48 hours they were able to get everyone evacuated. The only problem was, everyone there had cars. The cars stayed at the Lodge for six more weeks while they bulldozed and dynamited a new creek bed and road. Funny thing: most of the cars were rentals. Can you imagine the bills those tourists had to pay after that escapade?

Posted in Travel, on September 25th, 2008.


Paris (Las Vegas)

A view of the Paris, Las Vegas resort from across the street at the Bellagio, with that resort’s lake in the foreground  So, what did we do on day two in Las Vegas?

We had lunch at Emeril’s in the MGM Grand. It was scrumptious. I’m not a very big fan of his (at least I don’t like his cooking show style) but I thought the food was outstanding. We relied on the server to tell us what to order – my DH had scallops with an Asian cabbage and mushroom side vegetable. I ordered their (fish) Pan Roast with shrimp jambalaya. The pan roast was delicious mahi-mahi and shrimp, both highly seasoned and blackened. Then the server said we just had to order the banana cream pie. Moi? Oh, yea. I did. She told us it takes over 20 bananas to make a whole pie, and over 18 hours to make. Haven’t yet figured out how or why so many, but I ate most of it myself. DH had a few bites, but I’m guilty of eating way too much of it. Outstanding, and worth ordering again.

Took the east-side monorail from one end to the other.

Took a nap

Went to the Bellagio to watch the water show (three times)

Had dinner at Circo (pronounced cher-co), a Mediterranean upscale restaurant in the Bellagio. Overlooks the lake so we got to see the water show more times. After my big lunch I wasn’t all that hungry, but we both managed to eat a light dinner. A nice green salad with a bagna cauda dressing. I ordered the restaurant’s signature dish, ravioli stuffed with goat cheese, Swiss chard, and swimming in a delicious sage and butter sauce. My DH ordered a rabbit dish stuffed with sausage and the same salad. He ordered dessert this time – a bowl of four scoops of gelato. That I probably wouldn’t order again (I had a few bites), but the rest of the meal was worth every penny. The restaurant is pricey, no question, but we had window seats and the service was impeccable.

Then, the highlight of the day, we attended the show O at the Bellagio. It’s the Cirque de Soleil that’s been playing there for about 10 years. Amazing. Spectacular effects with a huge pool. Most of the performers swim – some of it synchronized, some acrobatics. It was fabulous. We had 2nd row seats – well worth the extra cost. And then we walked back to our hotel – about 3/4 of a mile or so (we felt virtuous, like we’d walked off all those calories we consumed today).

Posted in Travel, Uncategorized, on September 24th, 2008.

slot machine in Las Vegas

I spotted you as I walked by in the casino yesterday. You were dressed up in the kind of 4th of July garb my mother was fond of. She was a lucky gambler. She would walk up and down a few aisles to find just the right one with red, white and blue embellishments on your face. You were a 25 cent machine. Not up there with the high rollers, but certainly not the low-lifers like your nickel friends. My mother was very circumspect about having a relationship with any of your kind before she’d even spend a few minutes in your company. So, as you sat there blinking your lights at me, I wasn’t sure, but I mentally communed with my mother before I decided to sit down and begin a relationship with you. I carefully removed just one single dollar bill from my wallet. No going out on a limb with someone until you know them better. I thought I’d invest just that much before you and I had any further congress.

So, with trepidation I decided to just barely put my toe in the water, giving you a mere quarter to spin your sparkly rolls. My husband was standing beside me for this venture, to make sure I didn’t do anything too rash. I pushed the button. Up came a 7. Another 7. Oh, and yet another 7. Your lights went into overdrive. You voice went into a giggle of tinkling tones. I think you were very excited about having me converse with you. Were you trying to impress me? Or lure me?

So what did you do? You just handed me $20. Just like that! You must not have liked the last friend you had and you hoarded your loot. I just sat there, staring at you – looking deep into your eyes. Trying to see your soul. I couldn’t quite tell what you were thinking, though. I wasn’t sure. My mother gave me a sign. You see, she knew you better than I do. She said take it and run. I did.

– – – – – –

A bit of family trivia: my mother, who died in 1997, bless her soul, loved to gamble. She maybe visited Las Vegas once or twice a year. Originally it was the penny machines she and my dad played. Finally she moved up to the nickel machines and won. Then she really moved uptown to the quarter machines. They were her favorite, I think. She and my Dad played Keno too. She won regularly. Now, I’m not talking big money here. But on her last trip to Las Vegas (my Dad had died earlier that year, and my DH and I brought her here in 1996) she won several hundred dollars. She wanted so much for me to enjoy the slots as much as she did. She’d hand me $20 here and there to keep me playing. The $50 I’d “given” myself to play disappeared in a flash. On one trip I recall she won about $1,000. She got this cute grin on her face when she’d tell the story. I knew she kept her gambling winnings in a little bag in her lingerie drawer. After my mother died in 1997, some friends of mine came to help me sort through all the stuff. Darlene came to find me with a small drawstring cloth bag in her hand. She said, “Carolyn, I found this in one of the drawers.” Sure enough, there was about $500 in the bag – bills and whole dollar coins. I cried. It was just waiting for her next trip. Thanks, Mom. So far I’ve only invested a quarter of it.

Posted in Travel, on September 24th, 2008.

a partial view of the Las Vegas strip

The back side of the Strip, through tinted windows of our hotel, The Signature. We’re on the east side of the Strip between Harmon and Tropicana Streets, fyi.

So, as I announced yesterday, we’re on a road trip. First stop: Las Vegas, where we haven’t been in 12 years. Oh, how it’s changed. The Strip is just jammed with people and cars (on the surface, no sign of a recession here!). We checked into The Signature, a lovely non-gambling hotel that’s connected to the MGM Grand. Our neighbors own two units in this sort-of resort. Don’t know exactly how it works – if they reserve their unit (a small suite), as their guests we can stay in it very inexpensively. About half the going price. Nice. It’s a beautiful suite (with a small kitchen, even) and sitting area. When our neighbors aren’t using it, the hotel rents it out.

On recommendation from Rachel, a good friend who comes here a lot more often than we do, we ate lunch at Wolfgang Puck’s Bar & Grill in the MGM Grand. I didn’t take pictures (sorry), but my DH had Wolf’s own pork bratwurst with mashed potatoes and cooked red cabbage. I had a lamb Panini with couscous. Both dishes were delicious, per our respective mmm’s. My DH enjoys his Diet Coke a lot. They refilled his glass twice. $10.50, thank you. I had two glasses. That was $7.00. Total bill for lunch $64.00. Now we know to savor the first glass and forget the refills. Naturally, they didn’t mention the extra charge. Our lunches were $22 (his) and $16 (mine). It was a bit of a hike to get there, too. My DH, who is a double amputee, can walk about half a mile without any difficulty, but more than that and his legs begin to hurt. So after lunch and walking out to Las Vegas Blvd, we exited stage left and returned to our room for a little rest! A very helpful MGM Grand employee told us how to return to the hotel and bypass most of the casino portion, by way of a shortcut.

Last night we went to see Stomp Out Loud, the show that is “music” by odd instruments like metal trash can lids, plastic and metal trash cans, push brooms, sticks, boxes filled with noise-making pellets, whisk brooms and shovels. We saw Stomp many years ago and just loved it. This one, Stomp Out Loud, is a special show created just for Las Vegas. It was so unbelievably fun and entertaining. The actors (musicians cum dancers cum drummers), do a lot of moving around the stage (dancing, jumping, running and stamping of their feet) with their oddball instruments, banging them in every which way possible to create the rhythm and the show. The oddest “song,” if you will, was done with flexible rubber hoses. Depending on the length of the hose, and diameter, when it’s popped on the floor, it makes a tone. The lead dancer/drummer of the show (probably in his 30’s) got a scholarship in drumming at the University of Nevada. I didn’t know they HAD degrees in drum, let alone that somebody would fork up a scholarship for one. He was SO good at it, though. He was a master at creating music and rhythm with clapping, slapping and hitting his chest and legs. With the exception of a few grunts, “eh’s” and one or two “oi’s” there was no speaking for the entire performance. Amazing. All the performers were slim and trim (they get a good cardio workout in every performance!). If you’ve never seen any of the Stomp shows, I highly recommend it. Until I did a search just now, I didn’t know they had a DVD out (not of the show but other similar Stomp acts). If you click here, you’ll go to YouTube – watch part of one, and there are other similar videos down the right side of the YouTube screen. If you don’t know anything about rhythm and music made in such ways, you’ll be wildly entertained. The show plays in its own theater in Planet Hollywood, just a few blocks from our hotel.

Today we’re going to explore a bit more – maybe I’ll take a walk on my own. I definitely want to see the outdoor water show at the Bellagio. Because of going to Stomp Out Loud, we didn’t go out to dinner, but after the show we went to Yolo, a little restaurant and bar in Planet Hollywood and ordered freshly made guacamole and house-made chips. That was “dinner” and it hit the spot. By looking at the menus, dinner prices are off the charts expensive. Years and years ago we used to do the buffets here in Las Vegas, and Lake Tahoe (my mother and father were huge fans of buffet restaurants), but we eat too much. So we swore off of them long ago.

Posted in Travel, on September 19th, 2008.

a wordle.net collage

So, I was reading the blog post over at Accidental Hedonist, and immediately I was transported to about 1965. Allow me to set the stage  . . . I was about 23 years old. My first husband was an officer in the U.S. Navy (air). His air group was deployed on a carrier, and we’d made plans for me to travel for several months from country to country in Asia as I followed the ship around from port to port. It was my first international trip. I was a totally inexperienced traveler, besides being on my own abroad. The Vietnam War intervened, but I decided to continue the journey, even if I spent more time alone. First I went to Japan for a couple of months, and then on to the Philippines, where I met up with two other wives.The carrier carried on, and the three of us wives went to Hong Kong, a few days before a monsoon started, as part of our around-Asia special airline ticket. We stayed at the Hong Kong Hilton.

Let me just say that the two other wives were far more worldly than I. They’d both been PanAm stewardesses for some years before marrying their pilot husbands. I was (and am) a relatively shy-type not given much to reveling and drinking much alcohol, nor dancing with men I didn’t know (or even men I did know except my then husband). So, upon our arrival in Hong Kong, the other two wanted cocktails and dancing; I wanted some dinner and sleep. They went to the sky bar and I went to the small cafe near the lobby.

As the only occupant in the small cafe, I received exemplary service. I tried to understand the menu. It was in Chinese with just a few minimal words in English, German and a couple of other languages. Nothing appealed to me much, but there was this one spaghetti dish. The word bolognese was in it and I knew I’d seen that in Italian restaurants. The other word I didn’t recognize. But, it was quite inexpensive. So I ordered it. With great anticipation, the dish arrived and I dug in. Ewwwwh! It was chicken liver sauce on pasta. It was horrid. I tried a second bite of just the pasta I could manage to extract from the sticky, grainy sauce. Nope, it wouldn’t go down. Being on a very strict budget, I couldn’t order something else. I pushed the food around, drank some ice water and didn’t know what to say to the waiter when he came to my table and pointed at my plate, asking questions in what he thought was English. I couldn’t understand anything he said. I was too embarrassed to try to explain with more pointing or making screwed-up ugly faces.  I ate the saltine crackers on the table, and drank a second glass of water. Back then I was still testing the waters, so to speak, of international travel. I was very sensitive to my inability to speak the language.  Today I’d be in a financial position, thankfully, of saying I’ll order something else and do my level best to smile a lot and be pleasant. Do you have any similar experiences? I’d love to hear about them – leave a comment – click the link below. So, my advice: if you don’t understand a menu in a foreign country, ask questions.

Graphic at top created at www.wordle.net

Posted in Travel, on July 21st, 2008.

powell street cablecar

A few shots from a very fun weekend in San Francisco. My daughter, Dana, has not, in previous decades, been all that interested in traveling. She WANTS to travel, but leaving home and hearth gives her a bit of trepidation. She has been to New York and Philadelphia (when her brother graduated from Wharton School with his MBA), Hawaii (family vacation we planned), Baja California (on a cruise) and Seattle (another family trip we did). I lured her out this time by offering her a trip to San Francisco for a mother-daughter “bonding weekend,” I called it. I packed the calendar with activities from the moment we arrived until we left mid-afternoon yesterday.

We actually met in Berkeley on Friday night at Chez Panisse. I think this is the 4th time I’ve been there now. It was delicious, as usual. Then we parked my daughter’s car at one of the BART (rapid transit) stations in Oakland and whisked on over (under the Bay) to the city late that evening.

We stayed at a hotel near Union Square (Hotel Rex – okay, not exceptional, rooms are a little tired), used the cable cars many, many times, to get from there to the Embarcadero, the marina area and Columbus Circle. They are just so fun to ride. I never tire of the cable cars.

union square san francisco

They’ve re-done the Square (a good thing) and it’s now a teeming center of activity. A concert was a-happening as we left yesterday.

riding a segway near the marina

Uh – not one of the glamour shots of the century, but we were having lots of fun here. This was with the Segway Electric Tour Company. These things are just the greatest. I took a segway tour in Paris two years ago – one of the most fun things I’ve ever done, IMHO. This time it was with about 16 others, and we toodled all over the wharf, North Beach and the Embarcadero area. They have several tours (about $70 each, online), including an advanced one that goes down Lombard Street (wheeeee), and a nightime one too, all about 2 1/2 to 3 hours long, including at least 45 minutes of training. We did the beginner’s because my daughter hadn’t ever done this before.

union square, san francisco

We also went to see Beach Blanket Babylon, a very funny, corny musical revue with garish costumes and comedy. Very entertaining. Might not have been my first choice of something to do, but knew my daughter would like it. Indeed she did.

Yesterday we had a lunch tea (Tea for Two, they call it) at the Leland Tea House about 8 blocks from Union Square. I chose it because it’s a more casual atmosphere than some of the starched tablecloth kind of establishments that serve afternoon tea in the area. The tea and food were delicious. I’d go back there. All the food is made on premises, fresh every day.

We really didn’t go to San Francisco for the food, although we certainly ate well enough. We had lunch on Saturday at Castagnola’s in North Beach. Right on the wharf. Food was really quite good, although overpriced. The waitress steered us to choices that were out of the mainstream for tourists (i.e., she said no on clam chowder, lobster wontons and fish and chips). The food was actually better than I would have expected (we had calamari, oysters rockefeller, caesar salads, and copious amounts of sourdough bread and butter from Boudin). We had dinner at an old-time Union Square restaurant called Sears Fine Food. Nothing remarkable, but good, plus we got in and out there in time to get to the theater.

Yesterday we did the tea thing, some shopping, took the BART from the city to Oakland. Then it was time for tearful goodbyes as I flew south and Dana drove back to her home in Placerville, about 2 hours away. Dana had a great time. (That’s progress.)

My DH spent the weekend on our boat in San Diego, took our other daughter and her family plus a group of their friends out sailing for several hours on Saturday, then took some other friends sailing yesterday. He drove north just in time to pick me up at the airport last night.

Posted in Travel, on January 6th, 2008.


The breakfast omelet with goat cheese and rosemary.

At least a couple of times a year my DH and I drive up to the Central Coast. That’s the term to describe the area along the California coastline and somewhat inland, starting at the southern end at Santa Barbara and ending up north near Templeton and Paso Robles. We’ve been enjoying that area for several years. The scenery is beautiful. Rolling and gentle hills. Covered in grassy green in the spring and summer months, but still full of character during the winter months with scraggly oak trees everywhere.

Our interest in the Central Coast began when we started wine tasting there at least 20 years ago. It was a relatively unknown area then, and the few wineries that existed were start-ups with very primitive structures serving as wine tasting rooms. But as the years have gone by, more and more wineries have opened, some with lots of money behind them, showing off fancy wine tasting rooms, tours, gift shops, etc. Others are still back in the 80’s, so to speak, with fairly lightweight tasting rooms, with more charm than the high style monied ones. DH loves to find some of the unknowns in the area, so we sometimes drive the back roads looking for new signs.

We began signing up for automatic shipments of wines from some of these wineries. Usually we get a package from each of them every 3 months, mostly reds, because that’s what we prefer to drink. The Central Coast makes some wonderful Pinot Noir (Pinots are the specialty of the Central Coast), Zinfandel, even some Chardonnay. One year we heard about one winery called Stephen Ross. DH searched him out and for several years we participated in Steve’s barrel adopter’s contract. For a fee you “buy” the right to sign a barrel, and you receive two cases of wine from the current vintage and a beautiful sit-down dinner at the winery too. Plus the ability to buy additional wine at a good discount. The dinners are a very fun event, lots of very good food and plenty of wine to go around.

DH subscribes to wines from FoxenVilla Creek, and Eberle. He tries others, and drops some off his list after a year or so, then adds new ones. We were particularly enamored with Villa Creek when we went to their restaurant in downtown Paso Robles last year. They offered a wonderful flight of their own wines with dinner, that was exceedingly reasonable. And we were very impressed with the dinner as well.

So, whenever we’re up in that area, we generally plunk ourselves down in a central place and take a couple of half days to go either north or south. We’re particularly fond of San Luis Obispo. The town itself is very quaint, with lots of fine restaurants, even some fun shopping.

Our friends, Cherrie and Bud (Cherrie, my cooking classes friend you’ve heard about here) told us about this bed and breakfast, and we’ve been staying there ever since, sometimes with them along too. If we can get in. The owners of the Bridge Creek Inn, Sally & Gene Kruger, are just the nicest people you’d ever want to know. We feel like they’re friends since we’ve been there so many times. Sally is a very good cook, and makes everyone welcome during the social hour when she offers local wines and appetizers to guests. Sometimes Gene is there too, as well as other guests. And Sally serves a lovely breakfast too, with the goat cheese and rosemary omelet one of her signature breakfast. They have a jacuzzi tub, a walking trail, and the location just can’t be beat. It’s way out of town, on a gentle country road, on a scenic 10-acre plot, with a fantastic view (see below) where you hear nothing but an occasional moo from a cow nearby, or a mew from one of the resident cats, Charlie or Tiger Lily.

I know a lot of people who read my blog aren’t interested in California travel, but if you ARE, I highly recommend the Bridge Creek Inn to anyone. San Luis Obispo is a perfect halfway spot when you’re driving from Southern to Northern California. It’s about 15 miles from the ocean, so enjoys lovely breezes in the heat of summer. Sally is very helpful and knowledgeable about activities in the area – she made dinner reservations for us on this trip at The Garden in Avila. We celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary at the Bridge Creek. Very fun. Sally keeps right on top of the latest and newest eateries. Thanks, Sally, for another lovely stay at the Inn.
The sign out on the road at the Bridge Creek.

The house of Bridge Creek B & B.


I could sit for hours with my cup of coffee staring out at this view from the deck at the Bridge Creek.

Posted in Travel, on January 4th, 2008.

Highway 1, near Big Sur, with the unique Cypress trees that grace that area of California.

We who live in California often take its majestic beauty for granted. We’re used to the jokes made about the crazy people who live here, about our healthy food habits and our dislike for cigarette smoke. And about the air pollution in Los Angeles, the risk of earthquakes, and the occasional mudslide that can destroy homes in about 3 seconds. Oh yes, the fires. Those too. And the fact that we’re very spread out, so there’s little or no rapid transit in this state. We all insist on driving cars everywhere. But if you take all that out of the equation, we’re left with some spectacular scenery, unlike any other place on this earth. We have Mt. Whitney, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Redwoods way up north, plus just the incredible awe of the city of San Francisco. We have really big mountain ranges from north to south, including nine (yes, NINE) national parks, countless state parks and beach preserves.

In the south, we have more mountain ranges, deserts (actually southern California is mostly desert land, but because we hydrate it, it’s become more like one big oasis), the Salton Sea and Death Valley.

It isn’t often that anyone who lives here drives Highway 1, though. It actually goes from the Mexican border to Oregon, but when we Californians talk about “Highway 1” we’re usually referring to a section of it that goes from Morro Bay, about mid-state to Carmel. It’s about 100+ miles of very curvy, torturous roads. Takes about 3-4 hours, depending on traffic. People driving on this road are mostly tourists, there just to soak in the vistas. Or the myriad of people who actually live along that coast. Every time I’ve driven the road I wonder about these people who live there – what do they do for a living, so far from civilization (they probably like that aspect of it), how often they go to the grocery store (not often, I’d guess), or how they manage not having a restaurant nearby to go out to dinner once in awhile (there are almost zip-zero-nada restaurants along this stretch of road).

We headed south from Monterey. The day was absolutely perfect. Sky a sunshiny blue, water perfectly clear. No wind. Temps in the 50’s. The plu-perfect day to drive Highway 1. We stopped often to take some pictures.


South of Big Sur.


Don’t fall! That’s a couple of hundred feet down there. You can’t see them, but there are hundreds of sea lions swimming all over this stretch of rocky shore. They were  cavorting and barking to beat the band.

Just one look UP rather than down.



And one short glance back toward the north.

Posted in Travel, on December 30th, 2007.


The town of Rothenburg (row-ten-burg) is along the Romantic Road in southern Germany, just north of Austria. One of the days on our cruise in November, we had almost an entire day there. It was cold. Bone-chilling cold, actually. I was bundled up in everything I had with me – scarf around my neck, gloves, raincoat and a sweater. I wandered the streets of town, which was great fun. DH and I had been to the town before on one driving trip many years ago. Stayed just outside the city walls at a cute country inn. There are lots of shopping opportunities in Rothenburg, I can tell you that. There were hundreds and hundreds of tourists in the town that day. Aisles were crowded. But on my way back out of the village, just outside the walls, I looked off at this pretty pastoral scene. The path just invited me to wander. The city wall is on the left, with the attached gate houses. If you ever get to Rothenburg, forget the shopping. Walk the walls, walk the parks (there are several) and be sure to have some local sausages. I posted a picture of the famous Rothenburg sausages when we were there. Oh, so good.

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