Golden Gate from Marin Headlands
We conquered every well-known eatery and devoured every famous food known to man in less than two weeks. Did we eat small servings? Hell no. Eating an average of 5-6 full meals a day, we ate till we hurt. And then some. A nap would normally be in order after such strenuous eating extravaganzas, but there was no time to waste! There’s too much to see (and EAT) in the Bay area. Let me give you a brief rundown of a typical day:
9-10: Wake at leisurely hours after sleeping in REAL BEDS (not the Jeep)
10: Eat breakfast at Arizmende (local/organic bakery coop in Oakland). Eat one large California style pizza and split 4 pastries.
10:30: Have second breakfast at The Taco Stand (small roach coach on International Drive in Oakland where they measure murders—drug related mostly—by meter squared). Eat 6 or 7 varieties of taco (fish, carnitas, carne asada, shrimp, etc)…we had 14 total tacos.
11: Have Elevensies in Chinatown (Oakland) at an awesome take out location…I wish I could remember the names of the foods, but the dumplings stuffed with sweet pork as well as the shrimp wrapped in bacon were my favorite.
12: Lunch time: We like to eat ice cream for lunch. We discovered that ice cream is soothing while full, so it makes sense to eat it even when you can’t eat more.
Afternoon: Walk around Berkeley and discuss dinner plans….grab a couple slices of pizza from Zachary’s Pizza Parlor (their veggie pizza rocks)
5:30: Dinner at the Siebens: Gorge on grilled ribs, corn on the cob, salad, and bread. Drink delicious red wine or some of Zachary’s Berea Broobs. After an hour, maybe eat more even though you’re in serious pain at this point—but it’s worth it. Greg Sieben is a God in the kitchen. The WOLF (the stove) is his faithful sidekick. What good cook doesn’t have an industrial style stove?
Oh…also, there are always appetizers at their house. Salami, prosciutto, cheeses, etc.
11: Go for a late night run to the doughnut shop in Oakland. Get 2 doughnuts each.
Sushi!
I found out later in the trip that Nick was trying to kill us just as he had tried with a friend visiting from Williams during Spring break. It’s clever really—who would expect someone to try and over nourish the soul with amazing foods 24/7 rather than simply starve a person? Though it’s not as clever as it could be since it didn’t work; we’re all alive and well—just a little fatter and a lot happier. I considered it part of my training regime for the farm. I needed to fatten up a bit before working 12 hour days. In retrospect, a good run would have been a lot more helpful, but there’s just TOO MUCH GOOD FOOD and somebody has to eat it! As beautifully worded by Greg Sieben in respect to our eating marathons, he said: “I watch the scale every day! It just goes up.” A wonderful philosophy in all of our opinions. Don’t you agree?
Alec, the giggly hacky sack champ
Now…the Sieben family dinners certainly deserve a round of applause and an encore or two. Given the chance, we attended every dinner at the Sieben’s house we could fit in our schedule. With exception of our trip to Yosemite, we ate dinner at the Sieben’s house about 8 or 9 times. Why, you might ask? There are two reasons. The food rocks. It always rocks. So do the beverages—especially Greg’s home brews. But there’s an even more important reason.
The Sieben’s are simply the most amazing family I’ve ever met—not that I’m undermining my own family, there’s just no possible way to compare. Each individual (Greg, Suzy, Allie, and TT) is entirely different and absolutely interesting to converse or spend time with. Between Greg, the Keeper of the Kitchen, Suzy’s energy and passion (she was always ready to play with us and even learned to play hacky sack), you could never find a more loving and more fun set of parents. Allie might be a bit quiet at first, but don’t let it fool you—after she opens up you’ll find her to incredibly sweet, smart, and hardworking. She’s a trooper too! I know traveling with us to Yosemite was probably not easy—ya know, just a jog up a couple o’ mountains with a boisterous crowd and no sleep—no biggie, right? Hope she was ready for that. Ready or not, she did it without a single comment—didn’t even complain about being out of breath or tired! In fact, I think it’s safe to say we showed her a good time. TT (Taylor) is exuberant and brilliant. Who knows what sort of academic scholarship to MIT she would pocket—that is if she were interested in engineering instead of saving the world. Ready to tell stories, both about silly moments and amazing experiences in Mali, she captivates her audience well, loving them as much as they love her.
When the Sieben’s came to Berea in February, they learned about Berea and met its awesome people. Impressed with the love and support we exhibit toward one another as a community and the passion we have for what we do, they understood why Zack loved Berea as much as he did. In doing so, they gave Zack to us—and welcomed us, in turn, to visit them in Piedmont. Who would be foolish enough to turn down such an awesome opportunity?
WOw...SO Much Food
Suzy took us all over the Bay area, breakfasting at Café Fanny and Tacubaya, and wandering throughout the Haight district, admiring the colorful kooks, hipsters, beggars, hippies, and average Joe’s strolling the streets, watching us with as much bland disinterest in us as we had curiosity. Chocolate shops, café’s, vintage thrift shops, and quirky jewelry stores lined the sidewalks with enough people to make things interesting without being too crowded.
I don't see what they see...
Greg's Saffron
It was fascinating to watch Greg cook. He talked to us about what he was doing as he did it, teaching us, rather than just showing what he could do. There was little we could do to help the master run his lair save one important job: Making sure the cook always had a hearty glass of wine or brew. Micah and Matt showed exceptional dedication to this important task, always ensuring that the cook remained happy with conversation and delicious beverages. The evening we had paella, Greg set up the paella grill on the porch, loading the specialized pan with rice, roasted red peppers, shrimp, oysters, clams, peas, lemons, and various spices. Greg showed us his prized tin of saffron shipped from distant shores to his humble home on Olive Avenue. The fragrant red spice complemented the dish perfectly not only drawing people toward the grill for a quick smell but a peek at the beautiful contrast of the various ingredients. It was a feast for the souls of the most revered gods—but instead a haggard group of footloose vagrants devoured the meal with the spectacular company of the Bay’s best folks.
California, is no doubt, an exceptional state. Redwoods, snow peaked sierras, deserts, Mt. Shasta, Yosemite, Death Valley, Lake Tahoe, the great agriculture belt, Pacific beaches, an international border, ghettos, small signless hippie beach towns just an hour from one of the world’s greatest cities….It’s endlessly entertaining. In an exploration of the outer reaches of the Bay, we toured Marin county, scampering over the rocky cliffs in the Marin Headlands and surfing the gentle waves of Bolinas (the above mentioned hippie beach town which always takes down its road signs so people can’t find it).
Shooting the Breeze
Marin Headlands
The headlands start as the Golden Gate Bridge ends, lush native plants and colorful flowers clinging to the cliffs despite the odds of the harsh elements against them. The sun’s powerful rays beat down on the exposed land while the wind whips unforgivingly—I can’t even imagine what it’s like with poor weather conditions if that’s what it’s like on a sunny day! The headlands are spotted with bunkers installed during WWII as a lookout for the enemy. They’re no longer in use, save random exploration by tourists and locals and mischievous endeavors by beginning graffiti artists. Point Bonita lighthouse stands on the outermost peak warning ships of the rocky shores, its white tower just out of reach of the crashing waves. Sea lions and otters scamper throughout the seaweed in calmer parts of the salty water, searching for food.
Incoming Tide
Bolinas, another hour from the headlands along the wildly curvy cliff-side turns of Highway 1, proved to be the most charming beach-side town I’ve ever visited. There’s one café (maybe two), as well as a general store, post office, visitor’s center (which doesn’t seem to be open very often), and a couple of surf shops. Otherwise the quaint town is littered with farms on its edge and lavish herb gardens in its interior, lavender and bougainvillea shooting sky high in the rich, seaside soils. Delightfully small, clap board homes line the road which sports an array of clever homeless hippies, stray dogs, and crotchety old men with horn rimmed glasses. After renting a couple of boards and wetsuits, we all dressed and got ready to hit the waves. Matt put his wetsuit on backwards, an innocent mistake which I was cruel enough to not bring to his knowledge (the clerk at the shop was much nicer than I) since I wanted to see if he would notice after he saw the rest of us in our suits. The zipper goes in the back—I doubt he will ever forget, especially after surviving my slightly malicious humor.
Nick collected us before we braved the 50 degree water and explained the basics of surfing to his eager pupils. Turned loose to apply our newly acquired knowledge, we paddled (against the current rushing into the channel which fed the coastal oyster flats) to catch some waves and learn how to sit on top of the world. At first I was frustrated—I wasn’t catching anything. Nothing seemed to come my way. After a while, I realized that waiting is simply a part of the sport. Meditating quietly on the water, fingers and toes bloated from the cold, but persistently paddling in the direction of the best formed curls, I wore a ridiculously huge grin on my face, wiping it away only to prevent from drinking copious amounts of the Pacific. After finally catching a small wave and managing a feeble crouch on my 8 foot foam board, I no longer bothered to wipe off the grin for oncoming waves. I was having too much fun.
I didn't want to stand...tide was outgoing and it was time to go so it took me long enough to catch this small wave!
Later I managed to stand fully (for a few seconds) two times, but usually toppled over, unsure of what to do with my weight once actually on a moving board projected forward by the force of the moving water. I usually leaned too far forward when trying to catch waves, clumsily nose-diving into the wake and tossed carelessly like a ragdoll in a dryer. Each time I told myself to learn from my mistakes, but couldn’t seem to quit my detrimental habits which led up to my thorough wave scrub. At any rate, I seemed to be well hydrated after swallowing a substantial amount of water during one particularly awkward nose dive. Micah and Matt had decent luck as well (skill too!) with their first day surfing, catching several waves, but missing more, and completely falling apart on others, just as I had done time and time again.
The last place I’ll tell you about is “The Spot”. I saved it for last because I didn’t know what exactly I wanted to say (as it is, I still don’t know) but I’ll give it a try. The Spot is located at the top of the Oakland hills. We visited a similar spot upon arriving in the Bay area where you can see the same general view, but without the stunning charm of native flora and fauna instead of a well traveled road at your back. Zack discovered the spot sometime back in high school during one of his random excursions to explore the region on foot. He stood looking at the red blinking lights adorning the cell towers and decided to find their exact location in hopes of finding something interesting along the way. He was well rewarded. A 15 minute drive from Olive Avenue, the spot not only provides an uninterrupted view of the bay, but it is off the road and adorned with shrubs and small trees native to the region. Turkeys scamper along the hilltop and deer can even be seen on occasion. For a city boy, this is quite an oasis. Nick and Zack frequented the spot in high school, camping on the crest of the hill despite the relentless wind. Zack described it to me many times during our first year at Berea so that when I visited the spot with Suzy, TT, and Zack last May, I already knew where we were before we had even crested the ridge. Now some of Zack’s ashes blow in the wind at the spot, which actually resembles the spot where he and I used to camp during our freshman year. Windy and exposed but affording a decent view of Berea within walking distance of the campus, some of his ashes rest there too, floating amongst the gnarled oaks and colorful maples of the Brushy Fork Woods.
The photo of the spot (in the Bay) hardly does it any justice. I often feel my photos depict far more than my words, but this time neither really serves to show how incredible the spot is or any of the other places I’ve been fortunate enough to visit on the road trip. Really all I’m saying is that YOU need to stop reading my blog and go for a drive so you can see these things and meet these people for yourself. If you can’t leave immediately, that’s okay—I just hope this serves as an inspiration to you!
Half Dome
I’ll think of other memories which I want to share when I’ve “finished” my blog. There’s no way I can think of everything and encompass the trip with objective accuracy. This story is entirely from my point of view, created from my fairly loose memory. As it is, I hope you have enjoyed the blog, reading its many stories, admiring the photographs, and maybe even sharing it with others.
A Random Farm (photo by Matt Quarles)
I’m working at Sunfield Farm and School in WA (I might have mentioned this earlier…). Perhaps I’ll start a blog detailing my experiences here, but we’ll see how my energy holds. Ten to twelve hour work days in the baking sun have a tendency to take a toll on my desire to write, even if I enjoy it. It’s much more pleasant to curl in bed with my fleece, a cup of Lapsang Souchang, and a book (currently reading Into Thin Air by Krakauer and Anna Karenina by Tolstoy
Taryn, Ruhiyyih, and I on the morning of our departure! They (along with Megan) served as a wonderful farewell crew, making sure we had everything we needed.
With love, I’m signing off!
Frances
Awesome. It seems as though you have adopted the eating schedule of a hobbit. Marvelous!
ReplyDeleteThe only things hobbits have that I lack are large bare feet and round doors.
ReplyDelete