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Last I updated this thing -- prior to an impromptu rant on Kevin Smith -- I had just come off of a few good days in LA: quality time with the parents, real Mexican food with Benny and Hannah, and Dodgers-Angels with Dave.
To expound on the Dodgers game, a few highlights:
- All around the stadium are large pictures of Dodger greats. Including... Nomar Garciaparra??!?
- The Dodger Dog, of course. I'd include a picture here, but I was too busy wolfing it down to capture the moment.
- We all know that Juan Pierre is extremely upset that he's coming off the bench this year. But did he really have to express his disappointment in this photo, the one that they show on the Jumbotron every time he comes to the plate?? Saddest man ever.
- As always, the seventh inning stretch.
Friday morning featured breakfast with the parents at Huckleberry. For those in the LA area, for those who want to support Windward alum Zoe Nathan, for those who simply appreciate frickin' amazing pastries... GO! You'll enjoy. (And for a lovely dinner, I hear that Rustic Canyon, the sister establishment right down the street, is mighty good as well.)
And then: the weekend, the main event, la raison d'etre for this whole trip... it commenced.
Jack, Dave and I met up at Jack's house. Eager to leave but forced to wait for Jack's clothes to dry, Dave suggested we simply put Jack's underwear over his car's antenna and let them air dry on the way up. Problem solved!
We headed north. And we sang some songs of merriment:
We stopped for some Coffee Bean. Fan-frickin-tastic.
And within a few hours, we were in the lovely and supremely random town of Solvang. Why supremely random? Well, imagine a town from Denmark that's been dropped right into the middle of wine country in California. That's Solvang. Granted, its inhabitants aren't actually Danish, but still. Everything about the town, from the architecture to the food to the spirit, is Danish.
We promptly checked into our hotel, the Kronborg Inn, which we chose pretty much solely because of its name. I mean, it's called the Kronborg Inn! Come on!!!
As we got settled in the hotel, Jack thought it would be a great idea to pitch his new tent, which he had brought for the next night, in the hotel room. Dave and I were bewildered, of course, and we did everything in our power to make Jack's task as difficult as possible.
Eventually, Jack figured it out.
Before the night's main event, the three of us met up with Mike and Erika, who were conveniently staying in the hotel right next door, to get an early dinner at the Hitching Post, a steak house that you may remember from Sideways. I ordered the filet mignon. Now, I'm normally not one for hyperbole; in fact, I consciously avoid it as much as possible. But that very well may have been the best steak I've ever had. Perfectly cooked, unbelievably tender, mouth-watering seasoning. I was in heaven. Unfortunately, pretty much everything else in my meal -- clam chowder, French fries (the waitress swore they were mind-blowing), salad -- left something to be desired. But the steak... my LORD.
And then, the reason we came up north a day early: CHUMASH!!!! Set on an Indian reservation, Chumash Casino has become a bit of an institution with my friends. First lured by the 18-year-old minimum age, we've been going ever since we finished high school and have returned whenever possible. Opportunities to do so, however, have significantly decreased in the last few years, as the original core group has scattered at various times to New York, Washington, Toronto, Kyoto and Sydney. But this weekend presented us with the perfect storm, and we resolved to go for it.
We were excited. Pumped. Amped. Thrilled. Ecstatic. We let out a jubilant cry as we approached the lights of Chumash. We hit the casino floor and took over a blackjack table. And then, well... and then... let's just say that on this night, the casino had its way with us, as casinos sometimes do. And by 11pm, we all found ourselves back at the Kronborg. Beaten down, but comforted by the fact that we were staying at a place called the Kronborg Inn, we slept.
We awoke the next morning refreshed and reenergized. First stop: Paula's Pancake House, which was seemingly the only restaurant in town with customers. And those Danish pancakes absolutely did not disappoint, with Jack proclaiming them as possibly the best pancakes he's ever had. I can't make such a proclamation, with the banana and walnut pancakes from Clinton Street Baking Company in New York and my dad's matzah meal pancakes firmly entrenched in some order in my personal top two. But still, they were damned good.
Next stop was Los Olivos, as we killed some time before the wedding. Enjoying some wine and beer at Los Olivos Café, we just chilled. In retrospect, apart from the actual wedding, this may have been my favorite part of the whole trip. Three old friends, having some leisurely drinks, soaking in the beautiful weather, just chatting.
And then, to the wedding! But before we made it up the mountain to the farmhouse, we encountered some cows. They had been enjoying a nice, warm day under a tree. That all changed upon our arrival:
After we bored of harassing the cows, we made our way to the top of the mountain. And, my lord, what a location Hannah and Benny picked out. Here's the setting for their marriage:
And here's the farmhouse:
The whole day and night was amazing. The wedding itself was gorgeous, without a cloud in the sky. The dinner, with fried chicken and mac and cheese and mashed potatoes, was scrumptious. The reception got a little wild. Jack managed to climb up onto a beam 15 feet above the farmhouse. I was pantsed during an impromptu game of Twister. People were devouring challah dipped in Hannah's homemade fudge. And sometime in there, I called it quits.
The next morning, I was awoken to a lovely hangover and the crows of the ostriches that are kept on the farmhouse. Ever since my trip to Mission Beach, I've been terrified of large, flightless birds. So sleeping no more than 100 feet away from those beasts did not make for the most pleasant of experiences.
Before heading back off to LA, we said our goodbyes to Hannah, Benny et al.
Had half a dozen friends over to my parents' place on Sunday night; another non-wedding highlight of the trip. So good to spend some quality time with everyone in a relatively intimate setting. And along with some of my mom's amazing mushroom and barley soup and Moroccan chickpea soup, we enjoyed more breads and pastries from Huckleberry. Good stuff.
On Monday, before the beast of a flight back to Sydney, I made an obligatory stop at In N Out. Sooooooo good.
And there's the trip! From start to wedding to finish, it was perfect; I couldn't be more pleased.
Now it's back to reality. And I'll tackle that issue next.
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