How Many Light Bulbs Do You Need?

For this week’s Change the World challenge please remove a light bulb from a fixture with multiple bulbs.  For example, in our ceiling fans we have one out of three sockets filled (with compact fluorescents of course).  At work I am fortunate enough to have a south facing window, so on sunny days I don’t use my overhead light.  If you’re up to it, join the challenge and spread the word; for more ideas check out the honor roll.

 

Fog

Our last day in San Francisco, we awoke to fog.  The weather punished me for being so grumpy on Sunday morning and not riding across the Golden Gate Bridge.  My wonderful husband optimistically suggested that we run up Telegraph Hill to Coit Tower so we could we get a good view and see if the fog might lift so we could ride across the bridge.  Rather than head down to Union Square, we walked up Leavenworth a few blocks then over to Hyde where we caught the cable car and rode it to the waterfront.  We got to ride past Lombard, but we opted not to walk down it.  We tried to catch a bus up Telegraph Hill, but much like the rest of our trip we failed to note where we to catch the bus and which number so we hoofed it.  Unlike the forced march down the Embarcadero, the chilly weather was in our favor.

From Coit Tower, our chances didn’t look good for biking across the bridge.  We took the Greenwich Steps down, and although the picture I took at the top of stairs looks lush, the Filbert Steps have much better scenery.

We meandered around trying to decide what to do in lieu of our bike trek.  Ina Coolbrith Park and Macondary Lane and the Octagon houses were on my wish list so we set off for Ina Coolbrith based on my shorthand notes but without the benefit of a map (no free wi-fi!).  We ended up finding Macondary Lane and walking through it, and then realizing that we had missed the park by a block.  The park has nice views, but for the hike I preferred Buena Vista.  After walking in circles to find the park, I forgot about the Octagon houses that were only blocks away (although most likely steep uphill blocks away) so we caught the cable car that runs on Mason and took it back to home base for much deserved shower.

On our last San Francisco night we dined at Le Colonial; it is a very lovely Michelin starred restaurant with elegant decor.  Of course we were underdressed, but our server didn’t seem to mind.  He did, however, seemed determined to sell us the most expensive items on the menu even though we did not request his opinion.  Our entire meal was delicious and eclipsed by the superiority of The Slanted Door.  I enjoyed an ahi tuna tartare with taro chips for my appetizer and spring roll dish that I was instructed to eat like the bánh xéo from earlier in the week.  Le Colonial provided the best service of any of the restaurants we dined at, and their food was good (if not divine).

The Wedding

After our amble around Nob Hill, North Beach, and Chinatown, we returned and got ready to bake in our finery.  Fortunately, the dress code was casual with the bride and bridesmaids in embellished daisy flip flops and the groom and groomsmen in Chacos.  Even so, it was hot.  We have lost the record for having the hottest wedding ceremony ever (Key West in October at 10am, and everyone was pouring sweat).  Hot is hot is hot, and I hate sweating in dry heat just as much as I hate sweating in Georgia.  We had a ten minute stroll to the Powell St BART then a forty minute train ride (the fare is less than five dollars!) out to Pleasant Hill then a fifteen minute shuttle to the ceremony, which provided ample opportunity to get mussed up.

I know it sounds cliched, but the ceremony was just beautiful.  They were married under this fantastical oak tree on top of a hill with views of the surrounding valley.  Her parents’ home was full of light, and the ground were littered with little touches (like the sunflowers in the bowling balls and the flower fountain).

While I expected my favorite part of the ceremony to be the reading of “Invitation” by Shel Silverstein by a friend of the bride’s son accompanied by an interpretive dance by a friend of the groom’s daughter, I was really touched by the bride’s sister-in-law’s reading (“The Invitation” Oriah Mountain Dreamer).

As to my concerns about the wedding fare, they were washed away with the first hors d’oeuvre I popped into my mouth (Checkers Catering handled it).  I saw three trays circulating; one of shrimp on a wonton chip (I don’t do shrimp so I didn’t try this one), a stuffed mushroom, and a caprese slider.  The sliders surpassed the others, with cherry tomatoes so ripe and sweet and tangy coupled with creamy fresh mozzarella and a basil leaf; the serving trays had a balsamic vinaigrette in them so each slider came dressed.  The main buffet started with a fresh spring mix salad then a mashed potato bar followed meat and poultry stations with rolls (I didn’t find the portabello mushrooms and when I was directed to their location I had missed them); of course, there was plenty of beer (two from New Belgium Brewery and Miller Lite with a Sierra Nevada keg making a late night entrance) but with the heat the white wine was hit hard and early.  The cake was nice and moist, and its frosting was not overly sweet.

Between the heat, sweat, the morning wander with another full day planned, and an hour trip back to the city, we were ready to head back around nine.  I begged to wait to see them off, but the taxi had already been called.  If only we had known that we would pass the limo on the way down the driveway we probably could’ve held out to send them on their mini moon.  Like we did, they will be taking their real honeymoon after the wedding dust (and excitement and stress) has settled.

We used a taxi five times during our week long stay with two trips being to and from the ceremony.  The forty minute train ride cost $4.90 one way, and it runs every twenty minutes from around 4a to after midnight five days a week (Saturday it starts around six am, and Sunday it starts around eight).  Public transit done well rocks!

Chinatown and Top of the Mark

On Wednesday, my honey dubbed me Drill Sergeant because I was determined to take in as much of the city as we could during our week stay (with days eaten by travel, wedding events, and weather) so before we had to get ready for the 40 minute BART ride to Pleasant Hill, we checked out Union Square and Chinatown.  My favorite part about San Francisco’s and Vancouver’s Chinatowns were the gates and the bilingual street signs (although Vancouver has a better gate).  I also loved how CitiBank and Bank of America gussied up their buildings (the Bank of America we drove past in the Castro actually had rainbow flags hanging in the lobby).  For his lunch and dim sum fix, my honey ate at the Four Seas; I did not partake as I was not yet hungry, but the service was abysmal.  Although we arrived at lunch, he only saw two dim sum trays before our time constraints required us to leave.  After several minutes of being by passed I gave my credit card to the hostess which she delivered to the wait staff; we waited another several minutes for someone to appear with the receipt.  A lady we had not seen arrived with our check, but rather than drop it she hovered over our table while my husband completed it.

After all the waiting and watching him eat, I realized that I might not be eating for several hours (depending on the wedding reception fare) so we wondered around Chinatown making our way back to North Beach, but Italian wasn’t calling my name.  Somehow (I cannot be trusted to navigate), we missed Portsmouth Square but (walked several blocks north and out of the way and) found Washington Square and St Peter and St Paul Church so we caught a bus back down Columbus where I did take this neato shoot of Cafe Zoetrope and the TransAmerica Pyramid.

Heading back to the apartment, we caught the California car that led us to the Top of the Mark which we had missed on our previous day’s itinerary as a drink spot.  I am glad we visited during the day as my honey took some gorgeous photographs of the city.  I enjoyed a lovely fourteen dollar Valley salad (baby spinach, grilled endive, Point Reyes Bleu, tomatoes, and candied walnuts)  along with my fourteen dollar a glass pinot noir.  I must say that the salad was delicious with a surprisingly generous portion, and my pinot noir was rather tasty (Gloria Ferrar).  I decided to forgo the $23 a glass Moet White Star (please note this bottle retails for around $60), but I did understand that I was paying for the breath taking views not whatever was being served.  In fact our server assumed we just wanted to take the pretty pictures as he brought us our drinks and the check before I had a chance to order lunch.

After such delightful daytime views, I insisted we return for evening views.  Unfortunately, the loudest New Englanders imaginable sat one table away recalling their days of drunken debauchery; however, I did get to sample a 12 year old Jameson pour with my molten chocolate cake.  The pour wasn’t as enjoyable as I wanted (it was more like scotch than my beloved Jameson), and the cake was dry and missing the super chocolate divinity of the last molten cake I enjoyed (thanks Rezaz).  My honey did enjoy his $13 Mojito more than his $10 chardonnay from our previous visit.

Wine Country

Thursday forced us to split up for pre-wedding events; the boys went golfing at Lincoln Park (the fog killed all Golden Gate Bridge photo ops), and the ladies were driven around by a lovely designated driver of a bridesmaid to three Dry Creek Valley wineries followed by a truncated Muir Woods visit (we arrived so late thanks to the congestion we didn’t even have to pay the $5 admission).  Our first winery was Dry Creek Vineyard; this was my first wine tasting (thanks Biltmore for being so understaffed and overcrowded!)  Unfortunately, we did have to pay at each winery (unless you purchased a bottle or more), but at Dry Creek we were able to choose which wines we wanted to sample.  I ended up buying a bottle of their chenin blanc at a grocery store, and at 12.50 I think it’s a nice little bottle.  Our next stop was a short walk across the street at Passalacqua; it reminded me of Biltmore: the grounds were much better than the wine.  Our final stop was Forchini, and it combined a lovely tasting area with pleasant wines.  The tasting room was closed when we pulled up, but by the time our awesome driver got the fifteen passenger van turned around in the small driveway, we were flagged down by (who I assume was) Jim Forchini.  We ate our picnic lunches on his shaded patio, and Jim poured us several glasses of his wines.  With all of the wines he gave what sounded like detailed discussions of the wine making.  I really enjoyed the chardonnay, cabernet sauvignon, and reserve zinfandel; much to my surprise I preferred the cab to his Chianti styled Papa Nonno.  I thought it was cool that the Forchini wines are estate bottled, and they sell their chardonnay grapes to Sonoma-Cutrer (my overpriced chardonnay of choice).  On our return trip we drove over the Golden Gate Bridge, but the fog was so thick that even driving over the bridge, one would have been hard pressed to identify it.

After wine country and Muir Woods, the ladies joined the boys at a dive bar briefly before we adjourned to our twenty top dinner reservation at a sushi restaurant in the Noe Valley, Hamano Sushi.  Of course in classic cliched fashion the boys failed to communicate our dinner reservervations so all twenty of us crowded the tiny doorway to wait for the restaurant to find a solution.  The restaurant threw together several tables with room for most of our party, but the North Carolina contingent ate apart in lieu of being crammed beside the stairs.  The sushi was much cheaper than in North Carolina according to my darling husband (however, we spent more than we would have at a normal sushi outing), but I cannot say that the quality was significantly better.  The selection of nigiri, however, was another plus: I had my first toro.  Of course my first encounter comes as my love of sushi and flesh in general is waning; therefore, I will not be reviewing Hamano other than to say they did a wonderful job of handling our mob.

After our long days and not really knowing which buses to take, we took our second cab ride of the trip home.

San Francisco (part one)!

Our awesome neighbors got married at the bride’s parent’s home outside of San Francisco two weeks ago, and we were fortunate enough to be able to witness it.  We took advantage of the opportunity to enjoy the city by the bay.  Many of the guests stayed close to the wedding site, but we rented an apartment in Nob Hill which was furnished with the best, most fantabulous mattress I’ve ever had the privilege to sleep on.  We couldn’t see any famous buildings, but there is a view of Twin Peaks and a tiny view of the bay on clear days.  The entire apartment was filled with light from the windows, and a massive palm tree provided a bit of privacy in the front room.  The building is only four floors so I mostly climbed the stairs while my honey mostly took the old fashioned elevator (the door with its separate gate were manual).

I’ve decided to serialize my trip since I’ve been trying for over a week to finish one loooonnng post, so stay tuned for plenty of amateur photos and restaurant reviews along with my opinions on other things related to the trip!

Thirsty Monk South!!!

These pictures are not the best or most clear, but fuck it!  I drank good beer in South Asheville after nine pm (actually all of these photos were taken after 11:30 pm)!

In addition to the expected bar stools, Thirsty Monk South has a couch and coffee table area, two dart boards (with plenty of other board games), and a dog friendly patio (also smoker friendly).  I played some cricket with my honey, and he schooled me.  In my defense he was the designated driver.

We are so stoked about good beer in South Asheville, even if we still cannot catch the bus back home.  One step at a time.

The Sky Bar!

Finally after many a failed attempt (Sorry we’re at capacity), we made a first visit to The Sky Bar last year right before they closed for the season.  We knew the bartender, so the drinks were great and the service was prompt.  Our most recent visit didn’t give us the same personalized service, but hey what can one expect on Bele Chere weekend?  There is no food, just drinks and the skyline.  If the top tier is crowded, there are two more below; however, the better service is on the top tier as it is closest to the bar, and each tier is a different section so you might be asked to transfer your tab if you move down a tier for a table (the top tier is table free for maximum gazing and snap shooting).  The views are great, and this time I had my camera (but I was also a few drinks in so this is really the only one I like).

Why oh why don’t we have more roof top bars or restaurants (a number of other buildings have better views)?  As a pittance for being such a stain on our skyline, BB&T needs to sponsor a wonderful restauranteur to open another restaurant up there.  The drinks should be good without the Grove Park price tag, and the food should be something other than boring, overpriced steaks (again avoid the Grove Park).  With the Asheville city primary fast approaching, I hope one of the candidates (Mr. Miller this is your specialty, right?) will bring this important issue to the forefront!

Weekly Green Challenge (aka Change the World Wednesday)

Small Footprints over at Reduce Footprints has targeted one of my numerous pet peeves with this week’s Change the World Wednesday Challenge; a more informative (and ranty!) post is forthcoming on why the question shouldn’t be paper or plastic at the check out line.  Our household will be striving to remember to bring the reusable bags to every trip to the store.  Hope you’ll do the same!

French Broad River Festival

We both mentioned packing the camera at separate times, but somehow it failed to get packed.  Maybe next time.  Last weekend it rained every day, and it wasn’t soft sprinkling rain.  Needless to say everything was wet and muddy caked in mud after three days of being exposed to those conditions.  However, the rain did little to dampen our spirits.  Whoo-hoo to the French Broad River Festival!  Town Mountain was smokin’, and Jen and the Juice were fun (surprised to see Debrissa from Laura Reed).  One of my biggest regrets is leaving The Trainwreks at the end of their set to see Acoustic Syndicate; Acoustic was too mellow, but The Trainwreks were hot and fun (plus the Flood Stage had one of those funky tents that I last saw at TriNum).  Brushfire Stankgrass started our Saturday right, and I also enjoyed Rosie Ledet and the Zydeco Playboys.  I had never heard Reverend Horton Heat, and I had plenty of fun, albeit in the rain, grooving (and balancing beer and umbrella) to them.  However, I think Larry Keel and Natural Bridge were my weekend favorites.  Larry was having a good time on stage, and the energy was just right.  The worst part of the festival was missing the Unifire Theatre; due the rain, their set was moved from the end of the night to some other time that we didn’t hear about.  I love fire; watching fire, especially after a good bit of alcohol, is one of my favorite things, and when the fire isn’t isolated to the fire pit and is dancing around on hula hoops and the ends of swinging chains I become entranced.

Not only is the Hot Springs Campground lovely and beside the river, the hot tubs are right across the street.  I wasn’t as energetic as I normally would have been watching Brushfire Stankgrass or Jen and the Juice as they were post soak.  My honey booked a tub early Saturday afternoon, and he took the advice of those in the know and picked the best tub available.  It had a wooden deck with plenty of room and two chairs and  a table as well as a fan and a heat lamp.  However, the best part is the infinity pool effect you get when sitting in the tub; this is compound by the fact that the water is on both sides of the tub.  While you are close enough to hear loud engines climbing a hill, one can easily drown those noises with the singing of the river.  If you have never been to Hot Springs, you will be shocked at the velvety softness the waters impart on your skin.