Carmel: Memories Of My Father

Carmel, CA -- A haunting musical sound drifted on the wind from the luxurious Spanish Bay Golf Links at Pebble Beach.  A Scottish bagpipe player emerged, playing a soulful rendition of Amazing Grace in full regalia—a kilt, knee-high stockings and a wedge-shaped cap with a trailing ribbon. The last time I heard that song was at my father’s grave site.  He was a simple, old-world man who insisted our family emigrate from Brazil to the land of opportunity—California.  The memory of my beloved father, his simple life, and love of the bagpipe made me smile, and then I wept.  

Heart of Ireland Beats In Davis

Davis, CA -- The day I went to visit my son Jordan at his university in Davis, it was overcast and rainy.  Our first stop was a one-hour philosophy class deconstructing the skepticism associated with the writings of 16^th century philosopher René Descartes.  I don’t believe the professor understood when he wrote Cartesian Demon on the blackboard, it meant the demon Facebook because that’s what students were viewing on their laptops instead of listening to his lecture. 

 

After class, Jordan and I wanted some comfort food so we walked in a gentle rain from his frat house to de Vere’s Irish Pub in downtown Davis.   We sat in the library room on a plush red leather couch surrounded by antique fixtures, stained glass windows, polished wood, and yes, books.  If American Free Bird wasn’t blasting from the speakers, I would have sworn I was in Ireland. 

Our order of Bangers and Mash was clearly the comfort food we were seeking, wanting to sink deeper into Irish culture within this jewelry box of a restaurant.  The creamy mashed potatoes and mushroom gravy were worth the price of admission alone.  I asked our waiter Josh to bring us some gnarly mustard and he laughed.  A few moments later with the gnarly addition, the meal took on new heights as I dipped the housemade sausage into a zesty brew of brown seed mustard with a horseradish kick—my whole mouth zigging and zagging resounding with Zing!  My only regret was not ordering a pint of Guinness to balance the zig and zag.

Sadly, our time together was coming to an end.  Jordan and I walked back to his frat house and hugged goodbye.  He would pull an all-nighter to complete a term paper.  My heart was heavy for the parting once again, but made lighter by the memory of our precious time together.  I got in my car, turned on  the XM satellite radio to the 70s station hoping that Free Bird would float through the speakers, sending me back to the happy place once again, at de Vere's, with Jordan by my side. 

A New Yorker In San Francisco

San Francisco, CA -- “Drink it.  Enjoy it.  What could be simpler than that?” 

Eric Asimov, author of How To Love

Wine talks with Virginia Miller of the

San Francisco Bay Guardian.

New York Times chief wine critic Eric Asimov shared this insightful tip with an audience of 150 eager oenophiles, or wine lovers, at San Francisco’s Commonwealth Club.  Asimov was in town to promote his memoir and manifesto: How To Love Wine.   I admit, the talk was a little high-brow for me, but I did learn that Asimov thinks tasting notes, or wine descriptions such as tastes like black current with a hint of a rare leather-bond book, are a total waste of time. “Do they convey anything relevant at all?” asked Asimov. 

I hit the jackpot at the end of the conversation, led by Virginia Miller, San Francisco Bay Guardian head food and wine writer, when my question was selected from a pile of handwritten queries.  “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done under the influence of an awesome bottle of wine?” Bingo.  Seriously Asimov, I’m handing you my Carte Blanche card to go wild.  His answer: “I’d open up another bottle of wine.”  Really? That's your wild story?

After that response, I was ready to bolt out the door toward the wine tasting reception—the challenge was so were 150 of my closest oenophile friends.  Given that there were only two people pouring wine, the lines were very, very long and I was growing very, very desperate.  Still, I waited. 

In line I met vintner Christopher Buchanan owner of Redwood Country Wines.  His operation is in Humboldt County along a mountaintop ridge in Miranda near old-growth redwoods, the Mattole and Eel rivers, and the Pacific Ocean.  His terroir—the combination of geography, geology and climate might just be the recipe for an award winning bottle of wine that I will be eager to try.

After waiting in line for 20 minutes, I sampled a flight of pinot noir, made by Bravium winemaker Derek Rohlffs.  My favorite was a Jackpot Black 2011.  I didn’t even bother with making up silly tasting notes to impress the winemaker.  I’m actually quite good at saying stuff like tastes like crushed blackberries and cassis with a hint of black pepper aged at the Bancroft Library in John Fremont’s journal from his 1843 expedition over the Sierra Nevada.

Taking the advice I’d heard earlier from New York Times wine critic Eric Asimov, I drank it and enjoyed it.  What could be simpler than that? 

Derek Rohlffs, winemaker at

Bravium with a bottle of Pinot

Noir "Jackpot Black 2011."

 

Noe Valley: Rin’s Thai Restaurant

San Francisco, CA – Noe Valley’s 24^th Street is a sweet spot in the city with charm to spare—Victorian row houses, flower shops, antique stores and an overlooked Thai restaurant: Rin’s.  This Zen themed eatery is a sanctuary of grace and relaxation tucked away at the corner of 24^th and Douglass.  Low-lighting, soft terra cotta-colored walls, and photographs of Buddhist monks add to the serenity of this fairly priced restaurant. 

Kim, my friend from Humboldt State and I marveled at the diversity of their hand-picked wine selection—she chose a 2008 Kim Crawford Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand, and I stayed true to California, selecting a 2007 Taz Pinot Noir from Santa Barbara which was soft and silky with a floral undertone and a red-fruit finish. 

            “Tonight I want it to be about you,” Kim said to me, “you’ve been through a lot and I want to listen.”  She was right.  My mom suffered a stroke in early September and I’d been away from Basecamp for over five weeks.  Still, I was grateful for the gift of a true friend, and a flavorful meal in a lemon-grass, ginger-scented restaurant with low-key jazz playing in the background.

            Over a green papaya salad with egg, grilled pork, mint and peanuts I told her about hiring two caregivers to support my mom around the clock.  Soothing my frazzled nerves was an aromatic dose of chicken soup and mushrooms in coconut broth.  A healthy serving of chicken satay with cucumber salad, peanut sauce and brown rice strengthened my resolve to continue caring for an aging parent. 

            The evening ended too quickly, but the memory of a loving friend and a gentle meal at Rin’s remained in my heart. 

Newport Beach: A U-Turn To Re-Turn

Newport Beach, CA – Sometimes on the road of life there are U-Turns, a chance to return on the same path where we came from.  For me that place is at the end of 32^nd Street in Newport Beach at the Pacific Ocean.  This U-Turn began more than a week ago when I received the dreaded phone call that my mom suffered a stroke.  I left Basecamp near San Francisco and went straight to Hoag Hospital in Newport Beach to visit my mom.  Luckily, since my brother was with her at the time of the stroke, she came through with minimal injuries—mostly spaghetti legs and left-side weakness.  Still, we’ll have to step up her care to round-the-clock vigilance for the next month.  Now I am eye-ball deep in strategic planning for her estate, retrofitting her home to accommodate a wheelchair and walker, and interviewing full-time caregivers.  One Southern California evening when it had been a 100-degree day I gave in to the endless task of caring for an aging parent and gifted myself with a beach trip to watch the sunset.  I went back to my childhood place—32^nd Street, and stood knee-deep in the warm ocean water and melted into the watercolor painting that was my life.  As the sun drifted down on the water, my spirits began to soar and take flight like the seagulls on the horizon.  Suddenly, there it was—the gift of grace, the U-Turn, the sunset on the water enveloped in air so light and warm that if I was a feather, I would have floated on the breeze to Catalina Island which on this day I could see the outline with clarity.  I began to twirl and dance in the water, on the sand, with immense gratitude at the gift of life without regard to how it presents itself—in sickness and in health.  There is only one time and it is now.  Carpe diem—seize the day.

Two Years Later: Every Step of the Journey is Still the Journey

The things I carried with me on a
one-year journey of California.

Basecamp, CA – Two years ago I packed up six suitcases, put them into my car and launched on a one-year pilgrimage across California.  I lived in one California city per month for a year.  My desire was to discover the meaning of my life—the overarching goal was to write a book about this experience. 

            On the journey, I learned so many lessons—the most important was to release attachment to outcome.   Allow things to be what they are, rather than what I think they should be.  All suffering comes from holding on to a certain way of being in the world.  This holding on creates a rigidity that can often break a person in half.  There are many broken people in the world.

            After the journey—which was one long daytrip, is when I learned more about the meaning of my life, which is to help others through their process of transformation.  Visit my new website and you’ll see that I am now a “personal project manager” – helping make my client’s dreams come true. 

            Now, about that book…I’m happy to report that the first draft of the manuscript is complete.  Since I embody the lesson learned about releasing attachment to outcome, it has been made very clear to me that the book will not be just about the one-year pilgrimage through California, but rather about my own process of transformation from ages 48 – 52.  I release attachment to what I once thought the book should be, and accept what it will reveal itself to be. 

            This gentle release creates a sense of well-being because it’s based on faith and trust that all is as it should be.  We are all on a journey and I believe if we treat this journey as one-long daytrip, we would discover that it can be joyful.  Further, if we release attachment to outcome and allow it to be what it is, we would once again be made whole.

Tahoe City: the first place I lived on

the journey.  Everything was bright, shiny

and new...so grateful.

            Here’s to wherever you are on your journey, may it be divine.

In A Daze at Pinot Days

Pinot Days in San Francisco

San Francisco, CA – When it comes to drinking I have the heart of an alcoholic, but sadly not the stomach for it—after two drinks, I’m quickly done-in.  Luckily, wine is meant for sipping and Pinot, the delightful thin-skinned grape is one to savor, so my heart and stomach were in communion for Pinot Days, a wine festival held at Fort Mason on June 16.   

This event calls itself the largest gathering of Pinot Noir producers in the world and I believe it—the place was packed.  My college roommate from 30 years ago invited me to go with her and our goal was to find the best wine of the event, a huge challenge considering there were over 140 exhibitors there.  Still, we were up to the task and here’s our unscientific strategy.  First: we only tasted California wines; second: we isolated two geographic areas including the Central Coast and the Napa Valley; and third: we asked random people, mostly cute single guys, whom they recommended. 

Next, we conjured a strategy.  One of us would sit at a table and take notes, while the other would go to a booth and ask the winemaker to “pour me the best stuff you have—you’re in a contest to win winemaker of Pinot Days.”  We’d taste the wine at the table and use the Robert Parker 100 point rating system. 

Bob Wait, Grand Prize Winner

Luckily for our grand prize winner, I immediately violated our unscientific strategy and asked a big, burly, bearded guy who had a camera around his neck and a spiral notepad in his hand what his favorite wine was and he told me to try Wait Cellars and he was right. Owner and winemaker Bob Wait’s 2009 Green Valley Pinot Noir is made from 100 percent hand-picked and hand-sorted fruit from the Russian River Valley in Sonoma County.  Plus, he melted our heart by pouring his prize-winning wine from his grandmother’s decanter. At $36 a bottle, it’s a steal.  We gave him 99 points. 

Kevin Deschamp (l) and winemaker
Gary Brookman (r) First Place Winner

Our first place winner was Miner Family Winery, the very first wine that my roommate tried at the event, even before we devised our scheme to run the unofficial event contest.  I was busy eating French bread and Kerrygold white cheddar cheese at the time—starving as usual.  Winemaker Gary Brookman’s 2010 Rosella’s 777 is made from grapes grown along the southwest facing slopes of the Santa Lucia Mountain Range on the Central Coast.  At $75 a bottle, it’s an investment that will last until 2018—if you can wait that long!  We gave him 97 points.   

Honorable mention goes to Manzoni EstateVineyard, mostly because my roommate is good friends with the owner, Mark Manzoni.  But we do recommend their 2010 Manzoni Home Vineyard Pinot Noir.  

At the conclusion of the event, both of us had a good buzz going, but we were ready to pay the piper.  We went to the volunteer booth, put on our day-glo orange vests, and began our jobs as closing logistic technicians.  This was the price to pay for a free entrance to the event—picking up used wine glasses, breaking down tables and collecting garbage.  Still, we had a blast and look forward to doing it again next year. Cheers.