SoCal Living

Huntington Beach at Sunset

Balboa Peninsula

Mission San Juan Capistrano

Jamie Cullum at the Avalon in Hollywood. No, I'm not zooming in. I was just that close to the stage.

Palm Springs and Joshua Tree

Those of you who use hotels.com know that if you sign up for their member rewards program, you get 1 night free for every 10 nights you stay. Prior to March 1^st, the value of that free night is up to $400. Starting March 1^st, the value of that free night will be the average of the prices paid for those 10 nights, so it seemed like a no-brainer that I needed to use my free night (a product of staying in hotels during internship and fellowship interviews) ASAP. I’d always heard good things about Palm Springs and have wanted to visit Joshua Tree National Park for a long time. Best of all, the area is only two hours from my house. In the spirit of soaking up as much California as I can before moving to Denver later this year, I hit the road and ended up at The Riviera Resort & Spa this weekend. Suggestions for those who wish to do the same at some point in the future:

1. Check out the Palm Springs Museum of Art. There is an emphasis on modern and contemporary, but it definitely merits about an hour of your time, especially if you like Calder, photography, and glass.

2. If you enjoy eating bacon, stop at Cheeky’s for breakfast and go on a “bacon flight.” Flights vary from week to week. My flight consisted of applewood, jalapeño, maple vanilla, and dark chocolate.

3. Bypass Shields Date Farm and go to Oasis Date Farm. I’m not a fan of dates (the fruit, although judging by my love life, I must not be an aficionado of the hey-are-you-busy-Friday-night variety of dates either). They are too sweet and kind of grainy. However, I now love date shakes. Still super sweet, but when you puree and mix them up with vanilla ice cream, you’ve really got something special…at least with the Medjool variety. Oasis offers over a dozen varieties of dates. Sadly, they did not have any Latter-day Saint dates in stock. Okay, so now we’re back to my love life? Speaking of love lives…

4. …was anyone else confused by John Mayer’s recent interview in Rolling Stone, particularly the quote that likened a certain part of human anatomy to a Joshua Tree? If John is being totally honest with us, then it seems as though he is searching for intimacy with something dry and prickly that has an expansive national park named after it. John, please don’t forget to bring water with you on your special night…hydration is key here. Also, if you stop at the Cholla Cactus Garden and wish to use your hands to explore this particular wonderland, please have the good sense to wear protection. I observed another tourist get out of her car, walk over to a piece of cholla cactus that had fallen to the ground, pick it up with her bare hands, and bring it closer to her eyes for further inspection. Shortly thereafter, she started screaming in a language I didn’t understand and tried to shake it off. Bad luck, my tourist friend. Cholla is harder to shake than an obsessive groupie, right John? She then reached over with her other hand to pull the cholla free and, well, yeah.
   

My Suite in the Riviera Resort & Spa

A Couple of Shots from the Palm Springs Art Museum

Bacon Flight at Cheeky's

Oasis Date Farm

Joshua Tree National Park

Day Three: Olives, Lavender, and the Danes

Our final morning at Olallieberry Inn consisted of fresh-baked orange cranberry scones, scrambled eggs, fresh squeezed orange juice, and pumpkin pancakes topped with warm pears and pecans. While Mom was getting ready, I read through our room’s guestbook, which contained various types of comments from romantic exploits to ghost sightings. After check-out, we went antique shopping in Cambria. Mom bought a lamp and I resisted the urge to buy an old schoolhouse desk, settling for a printer’s drawer instead. All the walking made us a bit peckish, so we settled down for some Linn’s famous Olallieberry Pie. I happened to be wearing a light yellow shirt I’d had silkscreened with the following:

it’s such a beautiful day.

the sun is shining.

the birds are singing.

i think i’ll stay inside

and work on my dissertation.

Our waitress noticed the shirt and asked me what my dissertation topic was. When I explained that I was studying the impact of religiosity on parenting behaviors in Latter-day Saint families, she informed us that she had many LDS relatives, raised a closed fist to the sky, and shouted “Power to the Mormons!” Indeed.

We hopped back in my Mazda 6 and meandered down the highway to Olea Farm, a local olive orchard nestled in the hills near San Luis Obispo. Olea not only grows the olives, they also harvest and produce five types of olive oil on-site: European, Arbequina, Crescendo, Lemon Blush, and Basil Blush. A tasting and description of each was provided by the proprietor. I walked away with two wine bottles of olive oil, one filled with Arbequina (an early-harvest blend with hints of freshly-cut grass) and another with Basil Blush.

Another quick trip down the road took us to Green Acres Lavender Farm. In contrast to Olea Farm, where the fruit was just beginning to ripe, the harvest at Green Acres had concluded several weeks ago. Lavender buds were strewn across bright blue tarps, lying in the sun to dry. Some of the lavender had begun the distilling process required for extraction of lavender oil. After spending several minutes hunting down the owners (who were lazily smoking out by the pool), Mom bought some lavender sachets for friends and I picked up a lemon verbena plant to sit alongside the large lavender bush growing in a pot on my porch.

The last stop on our Central California adventure took us to Solvang. Similar to the Scandinavian-themed village of Leavenworth in Washington State (but much less awesome), the storefronts and buildings in Solvang are modeled after Danish architecture. As Mom and I have some Danish ancestry, we decided to stop for dinner at The Red Viking. Mom ordered an open-face cheese sandwich on dense, think wheat bread, topped with radishes and green peppers. I had sausage, strangely-spiced cooked red cabbage, mashed potatoes and gravy. Sadly, I must confess that based on this gustatory adventure, the only part of me that seems to resonate with my Danish ancestry is the part of me that loves puff pastry drizzled with raspberry sauce. Apparently, Aebleskiver is Danish for “freaking awesome.”

Day Two: Hearst Castle

Our day started off with a breakfast of vegetable frittata and olallieberry granola French toast (drizzled with olallieberry syrup) plus fresh fruit with olallieberry yogurt. Our host informed us that olallieberry is 1/3 raspberry and 2/3 blackberry. According to Merriam-Webster, it is “a blackish berry that is a hybrid of a loganberry and youngberry, resembles an elongated blackberry, and is grown chiefly along the western United States coast.” I would classify it as 100% delicious.

As we stepped into the crisp morning air, we noticed tiny pinecones on the ground. Turns out they were from the enormous Sequoia sempervirens (a.k.a. Coast Redwood) growing in front of the Olallieberry Inn. Planted in 1885, it towered over all the other trees and homes nearby. It’s amazing how something so tiny can produce something so impressive and beautiful. It just takes time.

A short drive up the coast led to the gates of Hearst Castle. Before our tour, we watched “Hearst Castle: Building the Dream,” a beautifully-filmed documentary at the visitor’s center. The film chronicled William Randolph Hearst’s childhood along the Central California Coast (his family owned a huge chunk of California at the time) and many trips around the world with his mother, which inspired Hearst (along with architect Julia Morgan) to put sticks of dynamite in the side of a hill near San Simeon and level out enough ground to build an expansive estate. The estate, known today as Hearst Castle, consists of verdant gardens, a towering main house, and several luxurious guest houses (oh, and let’s not forget the swimming pools), all of which were constructed from a patchwork of architectural elements “collected” from around the world…obelisks from Egypt, a wooden ceiling from the Moors, brilliant azulejos from Spain, intricate statues from Italy…truly a home befitting of the term “castle.”

Some have argued that these historical treasures should be returned to the lands and people from which they came. Doing so would involve dismantling Hearst Castle and reducing it to rubble. I believe these artifacts should be regarded as objects in a museum; after all, how can we truly appreciate and develop a respect for other cultures and peoples if we do not have the opportunity to first experience them from within the comfort of our own familiar communities? Such exploration propels us forward, into the world, where we seek to learn even more. It’s why I watch so many foreign films…to experience the world and better understand the varied perspectives and life events of individuals other than myself. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that the cost of a movie ticket at a film festival is less than the cost of a plane ticket and lodging halfway around the world. And that the cost of a digital, 360º visit to some of the Hearst Castle highlights is only a mouse-click away (make sure you have your speakers turned up):

http://www.regal360.com/clients/hearst/hearstcastle/index.html

Our first tour of the day took us through the esplanade and gardens, Casa Del Sol guesthouse, Neptune and Roman Pools, and the first floor of Casa Grande (including the assembly room, refectory, morning room, billiard room, and theater). On our drive back down, we failed to see any of the zebras still roaming the grounds even after the rest of the zoo animals (yes, there was once a zoo on-site) have since moved on.

Prior to our second tour, Mom and I stopped for lunch at Sebastian’s General Store, just down the road from the castle. Mom had a BLT and I had a Southwest Turkey Stack: turkey, pepper jack cheese, cheddar cheese, Ortega chiles, pepperoncini, avocado, lettuce, red onion, tomato, pickle, and chipotle sauce. My hand could barely wrap itself around it. It was the thickest, most delicious sandwich I have ever eaten (yes, that includes you, Potbelly’s), and Mom rather enjoyed hers as well.

After lunch, it was back up the hill for tour number two. Highlights included the Doge suite, “The Cloisters,” the library, Gothic suite, kitchen, and Hearst’s private suite, library, and study. I think that one of my most favorite elements of the castle are the imported ceilings. I guess I’d never really thought of a ceiling as having potential to be anything other than painted a shade lighter than the walls. The fanciest ceiling I’ve ever had was the one in my childhood bedroom, across from the hall in the house on Mignon. It had the texture of cottage cheese with little sparkly plastic things mixed in (in lieu of pineapple, I guess). When I was little, I would sometimes close my eyes and throw my shoes up against said ceiling in an attempt to send down a shower of shimmering “magic dust” (a.k.a. little pieces of the aforementioned iridescent plastic). Sadly, when I opened my eyes, the only magical changes were a dirty shoe-mark on the ceiling and the presence of a bunch of powdery, white stuff I needed to vacuum up. That, and a healthy dose of asbestos.

With the sun drifting slowly toward the horizon, Mom and I headed back down the coast to Piedras Blancas to visit the elephant seals, followed by a walk along Moonstone Beach. It’s amazing how different beaches can be. Oak Street Beach in Chicago is a man-made fixture stretching alongside skyscrapers and multimillion-dollar condos near the Magnificent Mile, with lighly lapping “waves” from Lake Michigan. Playa Flamenco in Culebra, Puerto Rico (see March 2008 blog for photos) is a tropical paradise with soft, pristine sand, warm, clear water that slowly changes from clear to aqua to indigo and coral reefs perfect for snorkeling off-shore. Moonstone Beach features crashing waves, ruddy cliffs, monstrous beached kelp (home to an army of sand flies powerful enough to pick you up and carry you across the Pacific), and some interesting rocks that Mrs. Behling thought would be perfect for her second-grade science class.

By the time the sun went down, the temperature dropped below 65ºF (brr!) and we needed our jackets for the walk down the street to Indigo Moon. A cheese plate of Midnight Moon, Cotswald Cheddar, and I-can’t- remember-the-name Gouda was followed by mac-n-cheese with manchego and white cheddar for Mom and lobster bisque and cauliflower horseradish gratin for me. I. Love. Cheese. So. Much.