Tableau Vivante

We departed LA yesterday morning for The North. Our intentions? To escape the usual heat and mayhem of May, to enjoy the time off JJ has between Spring and Summer classes, and did I mention the heat? It was going to be 100 in Pasadena on Thursday. Surely SF and our final destination, Sonoma, would be a weather paradise…

…which I’ll get to after I tell you first how neat Virgin America is.

I’m actually really disenchanted with flying. But I’ll put up with the increasingly surly flight attendants, the salted-everything lunches and dinners, and the poorly chosen kids movie for the ‘convenience’. We could have driven to Sonoma - it would have taken us about 9-10 hours with traffic in parts. It would have probably depleted us completely for adventures, though. Plus, the tickets on VA were $39 one way to SF. And even with TSA lines and security checks, it took us less time and hassle to fly. It’s an hour and change by air to SF. That leaves time for ‘splorin.

Virgin America made it fun…or at least way less annoying and much easier. The ambiance, pictured above, is very Space: 3000 - lucite and acrylic lit up in Disney-esque ways, with private video screens that offer your choice of many movies, music (you can construct your own playlist or go with a theme), video games, TV, radio, and seat chat. Chat with a neighboring seat mate via a cellphone like keyboard, or join the plane’s digital chat room and see what other folk are up to. I ignored the food, but allegedly on longer flights, you can order from a digital menu at your seat. They also managed to make the in-flight safety video entertaining.

But I digress! Onward!

On our side of the plane, we could see the approach. We’d eventually be crossing that tiny little bridge in the distance, but not until some wee battles with a non-working AirTrain at SFO and a jungle steamy waiting line in the rental car terminal.

The drive into Sonoma is quite pretty, though surprisingly hot (seems we brought the 100 degree heat with us). We passed rolling hillsides, golden with faded grasses and dotted with hunched and leaning oaks. There were redwood groves, farms, orchards, vineyards (of course), and a whole lot of blue sky. As I was driver-lady, I didn’t take any shots. I was extremely eager to get into the hotel, wash off the travel grime, and find something local to eat.

The Bohemian, Sonoma’s local independent weekly paper, has the usual ‘best of’ list that reflects local tastes and hidden gems. JJ had bookmarked some of the pages. On this first post-travel meal, we wanted something not chain-like and friendly with good, simple food. We zeroed in on Sonoma’s Best Burger – Mike’s at Crossroads.

The first Mike’s was a little burger joint attached to the Petaluma Livestock Auction Yard. The folk at a livestock auction have to know their beef, so Mike Condrin pushed patties made from California’s central valley Harris Ranch beef. The approval was lucrative enough that Mike opened his Cotati restaurant, where we ended up, shortly after.

This is the KRUSH burger, a nod to the local wine culture with sautéed mushrooms and onions in a rich zinfandel glaze on top of a cheesed up, hand-pressed patty. She doesn’t look like much, but she’s got it where it counts. I was determined to eat this like a burger. It was…challenging. The mushrooms and glaze had soaked into the grilled bun so as to make it unstable (but god…so tasty). I plowed forward, animal like. I had last eaten before we took off (around 9AM) and it was now after 6PM. JJ was equally focused. His choice was the Nauvoo Burger.

A giant patty covered in Nauvoo’s finest, award-winning crumble. There are no fries at Mike’s – he lists 11 reasons why he doesn’t serve them on his website, namely he just doesn’t like them. Your side choices are limited to that which Mike can scoop onto your plate – macaroni salad, potato salad, garden salad, or chips. JJ and I opted for the mac salad and weren’t in the least disappointed. They may be out of a tub in his fridge, but they aren’t average. They held their own against the true star of the plate, which for both of us was nothing short of decadently sabrosa. Tasty. Savory. Messy, sure. But these are burgers, not sashimi. And the beef tasted like beef- cooked to Mike’s recommended medium and juicy to a fault.

The tables were filled with families and local work crews - Sonoma is not this idyllic, wine-soaked land of toga-clad bohemians who run around praising plummy veneers and recycling (though there is a little of that).  Sonoma is farm country, with hard working men and women bringing the world not just the country’s best wine, but all manner of organic foods and industry.  Oh they know their food.  They know it deeply - from seed to salad.  This is what attracted me.  But the people that make it happen will be what keeps me.

An older gent in yard stick suspenders and a Nascar cap came up to us after our meal and asked about my camera. He had a Nikon D300 and simply loved the thing. I trotted out my D80 and he went on about how he loved that he had a beast of a camera that could kill his son’s resolution simply by being in the same room.  We laughed and chatted. The camera is a funny sidekick. It either repulses folk or draws them in. When it does the later, it sparks instant friendly conversation and companionship. It’s a welcome mat that continually surprises me.

After dinner we sauntered home and enjoyed the sunset over wild fennel and blackberry canes. Today? We hopefully have a tour set up at the Cowgirl Creamery and some wine tasting to do. Hasta!